Page 23 of Sincerely Not Yours

Never fast, always furious,

Harris

P.S.–Rudy loves the treats. This has become our midnight snack. I eat crackers. He gobbles up chicken-cheddar treats. Also, he sleeps with me now instead of in his kennel. Does that make me a bad foster parent?

To: harrison.ryan@ryan&ryan.com

From: gianna.ricci@ryan&ryan.com

Re: Spring line packaging

Harris,

First, yessssssss on the packaging! You won’t regret it! I promise! Also, who knew you were so funny?? AFast & Furiousreference perfectly morphed into a snarky signature? Touché, Mr. Harris. Touché! You get a gold star today!

Warm regards from the high horse I’m on,

Gigi

P.S.–I’ll be stacking my desk with kitten treats. I’ve also noticed he loves my scarf, so I will knit him one of his own.

P.S.S.–Letting Rudy sleep with you makes you an amazing foster parent. And thank you for sharing your sweet kitten with me.

Chapter Ten

Harris stepped out of the elevator onto the tenth floor, a small grin tugging the corners of his lips upward. He held a paper bag in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, feeling uncharacteristically lighthearted as he made his way back to his office.

The paper bag contained a mouthwatering chicken salad croissant sandwich and a chocolate chip cookie from the bakery around the corner. But that wasn’t what had put a skip in his step. It was the way Gigi had broken into a huge smile when Harris had delivered the same lunch order to her desk.

“For me?” she’d asked, peeking into the brown bag.

“You mentioned you like the chicken salad croissant from Sweet Breads Bakery, and that Rudy was napping, so you couldn’t move from your desk.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she’d said, but her eyes had lit up in appreciation. “But thank you. The croissant sandwich is myfavorite.”

“Consider it a thank you for watching Rudy while I’m in board meetings today.” He’d glanced at the purring kitten, lovingly wrapped in a scarf-swaddle on Gigi’s lap.

“Anytime.” Her smile had widened further.

When Harris returned to his office, he was surprised to find Dean waiting for him, perched on the edge of his desk.

“What’re you all smiley about?” Dean asked, as though Harris had just peddled in on a unicycle.

Harris pushed away the blissful memory of Gigi. “Nothing. Just hungry and looking forward to my lunch.” He raised the brown bag and piping hot coffee, not wanting to give anything away. He shouldn’t be having these thoughts about an employee. He was aware. But the pull to Gigi was getting hard to ignore.

Dean raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Come on, spill it,” he urged, leaning in closer. “You haven’t smiled like that in forever. Did stock in GambleOnLove go up?”

Harris shrugged, irked that Dean would go straight to financial gain, like there was nothing else that could make Harris happy. Then again, he hadn’t run across anyone in years that lightened his heart the way Gigi could.

“Yep,” Harris replied, and Dean pumped a fist.

“Nice!”

Before Dean could press him further, their father strode into the office. He’d just returned yesterday from a week in Mexico with Karen, apparently eager to get back to work. Harris recognized the folder in his dad’s hand as the financial analysis he’d completed on SheTime, before he started working with Gigi and the team.

“I’ve been reviewing this, and I see your point about dissolving SheTime.” Their father slid right into business. No time forgreetings. “It would raise our profit margins by fifteen percent overall.”

Harris’s good mood evaporated at his father’s words, replaced by a surprising surge of protectiveness for both Gigi and SheTime. He set his lunch on his desk before replying with, “I might have jumped the gun with my recommendation to dissolve the business.”

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