Page 24 of Sincerely Not Yours

Dean cocked his head at Harris, as though that was the last thing he’d expected. “Really?”

“You’re saying the financials are wrong in here?” Dad raised the papers again.

Harris shook his head. “No, the financials are right.” He’d never pull together numbers haphazardly. “But I think we can improve profits with the right strategies. I’ve started making some changes, working to implement them as quickly as possible.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Dean said, giving Harris a brotherly push. “I knew you’d see the light once you started working with Gigi.”

Their dad’s forehead creased, not as excited about this revelation as Dean was. He shook his head. “Here.” He offered the analysis to no one in particular. Harris took it. “You two figure this out together. I don’t want to see it again until you’ve come to a final conclusion about SheTime. These are the kind of hard decisions you’ll need to start making without me.”

The heavy weight of responsibility settled back on Harris’s shoulders. He wasn’t planning to stick around. He was here to set Dean up for success. Had Gigi distracted him from his mission? From what was best for his brother? After all, if everything went as planned, Dean would run Ryan & Ryan by himself, and Harris needed to give his brother every advantage possible.

Setting the papers on his desk, Harris said, “We’ll have a revised analysis and recommendation to you by Christmas.”

By the time Harris and Gigi packed up the booth at the Sip & Shop—an evening gift market and hot cocoa tasting event—they stepped outside to a foot of fresh snow. It blanketed the streets and was still coming down. The usually bustling roads were muffled under a mattress of white. Only the scrape of plows cut through the snowfall and biting wind. Even the tops of the surrounding buildings were barely visible, their outlines blurred by the storm.

“I feel like the morning weatherman completely missed his mark today,” Harris said, trying to block Gigi from the wind as she pecked away at her phone, looking for an Uber. His scarf whipped at her, and he stuffed the ends into his coat. “There’s a lot more snow than expected. I should’ve checked on the weather at some point today. Or even stepped outside.”

“We were so busy, I didn’t even look at my phone until we were packing up.” Gigi glanced up at him, her eyes going wide. “The closest Uber is fifty-eight minutes away.”

“What?” Harris swiveled, checking their surroundings. The street was desolate. Even the conference hall they’d just left was locking up.

“Maybe there’s a restaurant still open? We could get dinner and wait for Ubers?” She covered her eyes, squinting down the street, looking for signs of life.

“Actually, I walked here.” Harris grimaced as icy flakes stung the back of his neck. He tugged on his knit hat. The storm was getting worse. “I only live a few blocks from here. Why don’t you come to my place? You can wait for an Uber there and I canthrow something together for us to eat.” The offer hung in the air, laden with both excitement and apprehension. He wanted to spend more time with Gigi but was afraid of where it might lead. Yet there was no other option. He wouldn’t leave her here to wait for an Uber that might never come.

When Gigi hesitated, he held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable or pressured by his invitation. He just wanted to ensure she was safe and warm.

“I’m sure the plows will catch up with the storm in the next few hours and then you’ll be able to get an Uber, or I can drive you home,” Harris offered. “Plus, I know Rudy would love to see you.”

Gigi’s apprehension eased. “Okay, that’d be great. I really appreciate it.”

He smiled, tugging his scarf further up on his neck. “Follow me.”

Harris and Gigi trudged through the snow in silence, focusing on each step and trying not to fall. Though Harris wouldn’t mind having a reason to catch Gigi—again. Finally, after what felt much further than a few blocks, they arrived at his brownstone. Harris unlocked the door and ushered Gigi inside, relieved to escape the biting cold.

“We made it,” Gigi said on a sigh, unwrapping the scarf that had covered her face like a ski mask.

Harris did the same, bits of ice hitting the floor. “Just barely.” He flicked on the light, casting a soft glow in the foyer before setting down the tote bag he’d been carrying for Gigi. “Can I take your coat?”

Gigi shimmied out of her peacoat. She handed it over. “Thank you.”

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Harris gave their coats a shake and hung them on the iron coatrack to dry.

“Wow, there are never any vacancies in this area. You got really lucky finding this place.” Gigi eyed the arched doorways and ornamental tiled ceiling. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He grinned. “I actually bought the building about fifteen years ago.”

“Building? You own the entire brownstone? All four floors?”

He nodded, tugging off his hat and scarf. “It was an investment. Also, I couldn’t bring myself to sell it when I moved. I put a lot of time and effort into the restoration. Plus, I rent out the top two floors.”

“Wow,” she reiterated. She was clearly impressed, and a surge of pride moved through him. “Well, it’s gorgeous. Beautifully decorated.” Gigi removed her hat, running a hand through her tousled hair. Her cheeks were rosy red.

“Make yourself at home.” He took her hat and scarf, adding them to the coat rack. They both removed their boots, and Harris waved a hand at her. “Come. I’ll turn on the fireplace and we can warm up.” Leading her through an arched doorway and into the formal sitting room, Harris headed straight for the gas fireplace. He flicked it on, and the room filled with a comforting glow. Gigi gravitated to it like a moth. After clicking on a lamp, Harris joined her, and they soaked up the heat together.

“Marble mantel? Stained glass accent windows? Wingback chairs? Tiffany lamps? My sister wouldlovethis place.” Gigi did a little turn, assessing the room. “She’s an interior designer. Super creative and talented.”

Harris held his hands out toward the fire. “Sounds like creativity and talent run in the family.”

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