Being Harrison Bloom's Girl (That Forbidden Love Book 2)

by Ellie Etienne

  But it didn’t feel like it.

  Maybe she should’ve called Emily, but there were times, Leigh was coming to discover, when even her oldest and truest friend wouldn’t be enough. So, Leigh made the long and lonely drive back to campus, getting there when it was still dark and the only people outside were joggers and cyclists, and dragged herself back to the place that now had to be home.

  It wasn’t home, rebelled her heart, but there was nothing else for it. She had nowhere else.

  She couldn’t go to her parents, even if they would stand by her, because she had promised herself when she and Harrison had gotten together that she would never place them in a position where they had to choose between her and Harrison. They loved him, like a son. She would never give them reason to resent him.

  Besides, it would be unfair. She had put them through so much already. They’d had to deal with the idea that she and Harrison were together. Then they’d had to deal with all the media attention, so intrusive and unwelcome. They’d stood by her through it all, even when they’d found it unbearable. She knew it.

  So, Leigh was, for once, completely alone. The knowledge threatened to crush her.

  Leigh decided that she could hide from the world and from reality for a while longer, and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up over herself and willing herself to sleep.

  But sleep left her, too, forsaking her when she needed it.

  All she could think of was that she’d had everything, and now she’d lost everything. There was nothing she could do.

  Harrison had looked at her with such coldness, when her body had still been heated from his.

  He had looked at her as if he wanted nothing to do with her.

  He would get his wish now. After all, it wasn’t like she’d been left with a choice of any sort.

  She would have to accept that she had lost him, and move on.

  She would, Leigh promised herself, but she couldn’t convince herself.

  She couldn’t.

  Harrison knew the moment Leigh left.

  Of course he knew.

  He had always felt like he was attuned to her. He could feel her presence before he saw her, and he could feel her leave.

  He clenched his hands into fists and stood at the window of the guest room, without moving a muscle. He focused on not moving, on each muscle staying still, because if he didn’t, he knew that he would find himself pulling open the door and dashing out, reaching for Leigh, holding her there and with him.

  Promising him that he would be fine with half-measures and compromises, middle grounds that meant nothing to him. Even if he knew very well that he could never be happy with middle ground, not the kind that Leigh wanted.

  Twice, he thought, as he heard the click of the elevator doors, the little beep as it moved down, taking Leigh farther and farther away from him, until she was out of reach. Maybe she had always been out of reach and he had just refused to see it. Maybe he had just overestimated the power of his own will, and assumed that everything would be fine because he would make it fine.

  He heard the little beep as the elevator reached the parking lot, and knew that Leigh was walking away, slipping out of his reach.

  He didn’t make a move to leave the guest room. It was the only room in the penthouse that didn’t remind him of Leigh. It was impersonal, neatly and functionally designed with elegant touches, meant for people to impose their own tastes and personalities on the space, even if only for a day, or a few hours. Leigh had never had reason to come in there to sleep, or to make any changes there. Why would she have? She had never been a guest.

  And now she was gone, and she had taken the warmth with her – for the second time.

  He should have known, thought Harrison, not moving a muscle as he stood there, looking out over the city that still sparkled. It never slept, after all, did it?

  There would be lives out there – happy ones, sad ones. Most of those people would consider him very lucky.

  He could understand. He knew he was a lucky man, though he had made his own luck, too. To think that it had all started from a gaming app – that he had built it all, from people’s desire to compete with each other and be the best.

  Leigh had been part of the reason why he had diversified. He had found new challenges, because finding her, finding that joy in her, had made him feel energized again.

  Now he had even more than he’d had then.

  So, he was a lucky man.

  He had been the right person at the right place at the right time, and now he had more than most people could dream of spending in a dozen lifetimes.

  He had never felt poorer, not even when he had deliberately chosen not to pursue connections that his name could give him, and he had worked his ass off to get those few first breaks. He had always known that he could have help if he needed it, but he had never asked for it.

  Now he was beyond help.

  Leigh had left him.

  No, he had left Leigh, because she didn’t love him enough to stay with him. To say she would be with him forever.

  He had, once upon a time, believing that he could never have Leigh, buried himself in work. It had never made him forget, but it had dulled the pain a bit.

  He would have to find that challenge in work again. For the last few weeks, he’d been letting things slide a bit. He knew that. Well, there had been more than enough of that. Things were going to change.

  Once Harrison made a decision, he didn’t dither. Walking with precise movements, he went to the bedroom – and, ignoring the bed that Leigh had made so neatly, he got his laptop out and settled down in the little nook where he and Leigh had cuddled over breakfast, or nightcaps, so often.

  No, he wouldn’t think of that. That was over.

  Now he had to focus.

  If there was one thing Harrison had always been able to do with nearly fearsome success, it was channeling everything in him to one goal. Now he had a goal – find a way to forget Leigh and move on with his life.

  He would take whatever way he was offered to make that happen.

  As if he had conjured up a solution to his problems, his phone beeped.

  Harrison went still.

  He couldn’t stop his heart’s initial leap of hope that it might be Leigh – Leigh, telling him that she had been wrong, that she would be his, after all.

  But it was a matter of strength to quell that hope, and he felt some sense of accomplishment as he did it. When he did check his phone, he frowned.

  The face on the phone was that of a very beautiful blonde with piercing green eyes, and he knew that she had a body that could make a man weep with the wonder of it.

  Diane Masters, the only woman other than Leigh that he had ever really dated. Diane Masters, the only woman who had, at least for a time, helped him forget about Leigh.

  Diane could help a man forget about anything. She was just that skilled at just about everything she put her mind to.

  They had been only twenty-two when they’d met, and he’d still be struggling for his big break.

  For the first time in years, he let himself sink back into those memories.

  “Hello, cutie. I find my glass empty. Would you like to do something about it?”

  He’d been at a bar he couldn’t really afford, after a meeting with an investor that he thought had done well. He’d been about to go home and celebrate with something he could afford better, but there she was, in that skintight dress that didn’t play at modesty or coyness, looking so absolutely gorgeous that he knew that every man in there envied him in that moment.

  It had almost been enough to make him blow the rest of the month’s peanut butter budget on a fancy drink with a little pink umbrella in it, to keep that blonde bombshell with siren’s eyes as luscious lips next to him for a while longer.

  But he’d always had enough sense to know when he was batting out of his league.

  “I would like to, but I can’t, if I’d like to make rent. And I do enjoy having a roof over
my head.”

  She had tilted her head just a little, making her curls sway around her face, and her lips had curved in an intrigued smile.

  “I think you might be the first man to ever turn me down. At least since I turned sixteen. For that, I must buy you a drink.”

  She had slid on to the stool next to his as if she belonged by his side, grinned at him, and ordered him a whiskey – an excellent whiskey – and herself another margarita.

  “There, now you have to stay and talk to me. Tell me your story, handsome.”

  Harrison had smiled, and shrugged.

  “My story is nothing special.”

  “Well then, we should make it something special, shouldn’t we? What’s the point of living if every moment isn’t a part of a special story? I’m Diane Masters.”

  Harrison had raised his glass to her.

  “I’m Harrison Bloom. Here’s to an excellent story, Diane Masters.”

  “I like how you’re thinking now. Here’s to all the stories in the world, and may they all be excellent.”

  Harrison came back to the present and looked down at the phone, to find that it had gone dark. Diane had made him laugh, and pushed him to take chances he might not have otherwise. Of course, she had been a rich woman, at ease in places like that bar where he had met her. She had worn that privilege as easily as she would a designer gown, but she had done so without any of the pretensions that had always driven him mad.

  Maybe it wasn’t surprising that, once they’d been thrown together, they had found in each other something they’d needed. Diane had needed a distraction from the life she led, where the only accomplishment expected from her was to marry well.

  Harrison had needed a release from the nerves and tension of trying to build his own business. He had discovered that the skills involved in building an app came more easily to him than the skills needed to sell it – or the idea of it, which was what he had been doing then.

  Of course, he had learned. Experience is a very tough teacher.

  But he had needed a release and a distraction, and an outlet for some of the frustration that simmered just under the surface, so dangerously.

  Diane had become that.

  He had no illusions about the kind of relationship they’d shared. It had had nothing to do with love. Neither of them had pretended that it did.

  It had had plenty to do with need, compulsion, even a fair range of obsession. They had embraced it, unhealthy or not, and had, in turns, brought out the best and worst in each other.

  Then he had found his funding, sold the app, and found himself with more money than he’d ever wanted. He had lost the edge of desperation, and Diane had lost interest.

  The parting hadn’t been amicable. There had been fire and ice. But time dulled all things, even resentment that had burned in him so deep and hot seven years ago.

  So, why had Diane Masters called him?

  Diane didn’t simply cross bridges. She burned them. They both knew that.

  She only left behind people she could do without. For all her flaws, and she had plenty, Diane didn’t go back on her word. She had told him that he would never have her again.

  So, why was she calling him now?

  Curiosity made his finger hover over the button that he could tap to call her back. To be honest, it had been a shock to see that old photo of hers again. He had taken it himself, once day, after a night out on the town that had nearly ended in them both getting arrested for public indecency.

  It would’ve been worth it, she had declared, and he had agreed.

  Impulsively, he made up his mind and hit the button.

  The phone rang, once, twice, three times, and he was about to cut the call when she answered.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Harrison Bloom.”

  The reaction to her voice was visceral. It hadn’t changed in seven years. Her voice felt like the caress of soft lips touching him everywhere, promising him pleasure beyond anything he could possibly imagine.

  Diane’s voice had always made the promises that she never made. She had always been so careful not to make any.

  No, he would not think of Leigh. He would not compare.

  “And if it isn’t Diane Masters. Turning up like a bad penny?”

  Diane chuckled.

  “You used to say that to me quite often. I’m afraid that’s what bad pennies do, Harrison. I see you’ve made something of yourself.”

  “You’ve been off the radar.”

  “I married a baron in exile and decided that Europe would be my playground.”

  Harrison smiled. Of course she had done that.

  “I’m surprised that Europe isn’t burning.”

  “It’s too wet to burn, Harrison. You must know that. Or you would, if you decided to travel a little. I just got back in town. I’m no longer married to the baron, and no longer in exile. How about a drink?”

  He should say no, of course. That would be the sensible thing to do.

  And yet, why should he say no?

  He was single, too, wasn’t he? Leigh and he had made that quite clear. They were both single. They were both entitled to see other people if they wanted to.

  The thought of Leigh seeing anybody else made him squeeze the phone so hard that it was a wonder it didn’t break.

  Single and free, he reminded himself.

  “Why not? But it’s six in the morning. A bit early to be calling people about drinks, isn’t it?”

  “Time zones. Jet lag. I don’t get the feeling that you mind. You sound quite awake. Why, don’t you have somebody warming your bed these days, Harrison? You never used to have trouble finding people to do that.”

  “Times have changed.”

  “We’ll see just how much we have changed, shan’t we? I’m looking forward to seeing you, Harrison.”

  Harrison wasn’t sure he could reciprocate the sentiment, but it did do his ego a little good. He was a man, after all, and one who had been rejected by the woman he loved twice in about the span of a week.

  Ruthlessly, he tamped down any suggestion from his own traitorous mind that he wasn’t being loyal to Leigh.

  Leigh could no longer claim any of his loyalty. She had left him. She had broken his heart and walked away, tossing aside everything he had offered her – his heart, his hand, his life.

  No, he definitely shouldn’t be entertaining any notion of loyalty towards her. She had forfeited all claims to it.

  “When and where?”

  “I’m at your disposal, Harrison. Remember how much fun we used to have when I put myself at your disposal?”

  Harrison could hardly have stopped the memories that flooded his mind. They were intoxicating.

  He and Diane had been very…compatible. They had worked very well together.

  Many people dismissed Diane as a bimbo. They usually found out that that was a huge mistake, when it suited Diane to let them figure out how badly they had miscalculated. But they had shared that in common. People had dismissed them as charming shells so often, until they’d had no choice but to set them straight.

  She was also very inventive with intimacy.

  Oh yes, he remembered how much fun they used to have.

  “Evening, around seven. We’ll meet at…”

  “Where we met first, Harrison. I’ll see you then. Oh, and please do wear a nice suit. I remember your inclination to forget what you’re wearing when you’re coding.”

  Harrison chuckled. In the last few years, he’d gotten used to getting decked out in the nice tuxes when necessary.

  “I have a few now.”

  “I know you do. I’ve been watching you, Harrison. Now I’ll get to take a good look at you, up close and personal. Don’t keep me waiting.”

  Diane hung up, and Harrison sat still for a few minutes.

  So, he was going to go out with Diane Masters. It was just a couple of friends getting together, of course. There was nothing more to it.

  But even as he told himself that,
he knew that that wasn’t the complete truth. If there hadn’t been anything more to it, he wouldn’t be trying to justify it, even to himself.

  He had no reason to justify it to anybody, he reminded himself, but there was a part of him that felt dirty for even spending an evening with an old friend – an old friend with whom he had such history.

  So, Harrison set it aside, and set his phone aside, and got back to work. He threw himself into it, and for the next two hours, he managed to stop thinking about Leigh. Maybe he hadn’t quite managed to stop himself from hurting, but he’d pushed it to the background and let it hum there.

  He would not mope around, wishing that Leigh would come back to him.

  He didn’t want Leigh to come back to him anymore. He had had enough of her dithering, her shock at the idea of a solid commitment. He’d had more than enough of Leigh throwing everything he offered back in his face.

  He had also had enough of living like a monk, arranging his schedule to suit Leigh’s, only for her to cut and run, over and over again.

  All of that was over.

  It was done.

  He would make things right with Martha and Samuel, of course. He would find a way to make things right with them.

  And then he would go on with his life. Leigh had obviously made her choice.

  He would have to live with it. Well then, he would live well, because there was no reason why he shouldn’t.

  Deliberately, Harrison got up, and walked to the bathroom. He opened the cabinet and methodically gathered up everything he had stocked for Leigh. He put it all in a bag, and set it aside.

  It felt cathartic. At least the bathroom felt like his own again, thought Harrison, looking around.

  But he was kidding himself, at least a bit. He could get rid of everything he had bought for Leigh, but her scent seemed to linger in there, as if she had walked in there and washed up before leaving.

  Leaving without a word, he reminded himself, after turning him down.

  She had turned him down.

  He had offered her everything, and she had turned him down.

  Whatever it took, he would put the past behind him and move on. Harrison promised himself that as he shut out the pain and focused on getting ready for work. He chose the nice suit that Diane had demanded over his usual casuals for work.