Page 14 of The Final Draft

As lunch winds down, getting to know Harper takes center stage. “Tell me about yourself, Harper Cartwright.” I stare at her beautiful face and she’s positively glowing. While I’m very attracted to her, I want to know the details that make her special.

“What do you want to know?”

Everything. “Let’s start with the basics. Age, birthday, favorite color. That kind of stuff.”

“You mean like my dating profile kind of thing?”

“You’re on dating sites?” The thought of her meeting random guys sets me on edge. I clench my jaw and attempt to dial back my displeasure. There’s no way Lawson would approve of her having an online profile. Dating is hard for women, but dating in New York City is absolutely brutal. I'd rather have her with Zac than on the local dating scene. My thoughts are some kind of fucked up. I need to focus.

“Not anymore.” Shit. Is it because of Zac? Always comes back to that, doesn’t it?

“Okay, but only if you reciprocate.” She tries to quirk her eyebrow at me, and I laugh.

“Deal.” She looks exactly like Lawson with that expression. Only a hell of a lot prettier.

“I feel like I’m auditioning forThe Bachelor,” she mumbles.

“Well, if you were, you’d get a rose every single time,” I confess. “They keep hounding me to do that show. Every Thanksgiving it’s a standing conversation if I’ll ever say yes.”

“Seriously? Would you consider it?” She seems genuinely curious.

“Absolutely not. I’m a one-woman kind of guy.” I get another surprised look, which morphs into disbelief. “What? You don’t believe that?”

“You seem to have a different woman on your arm every week.”

“Why Ms. Cartwright, are you stalking me?” I love teasing her. She blushes and gets flustered for a moment before she composes herself. It’s endearing. And it’s totally Harper.

CHAPTER

NINE

HARPER

“Why Ms. Cartwright, are you stalking me?” I can feel the heat rise in my face. Do I admit I stayed up way past my bedtime cyberstalking him? Hell no. I’m taking that confession to my grave.

“You’re hard to miss, Mr. Decker. You’re all over my social media. I can’t get away from you.” Okay. Only slightly true. More like I googled him until my algorithms assumed he’s all I wanted to see. Stupid computers.

“Well, for your information, you can’t believe everything you see on the internet. While I often go out in the company of beautiful women, I haven’t had a relationship in the past four years. Contrary to popular opinion, the internet does not know all.” He seems sincere. “So back to your audition, as you called it. Hit me with thirty seconds of Harper.”

I take a big gulp of champagne, and he goes to refill my glass to find a few drops left in the bottle. Did I drink most of that?Oh, I’m feeling tipsy and giggly. So yes, it’s possible. He casually slides my water toward me, encouraging me to hydrate.

“Okay. First, I’m not usually a day drinker, so this is already out of character.” At the mention of day drinking, I hiccup. He holds back his laughter, and I roll my eyes.

I shimmy in my chair, sit up straight, flash my pageant queen smile, and try to compose myself. I’m going to pull out my Southern accent for this audition. Although I moved to Atlanta in high school, it’s difficult to replace my Minnesota accent. I’m going to try anyway.

Julian pulls out his phone and starts the timer.

“Hi, I’m Harper Cartwright.” I hesitate for a second. I recently had a birthday, but with the move and everything, it was just another day. “Twenty-seven, a fan of most things hockey, except the smelly gloves. I enjoy reading, love animals, would like to get a kitten, but don’t think Noodle would appreciate that. Oh, and I adore otters. Love them! I want to take a cooking class in Italy. Huge fan of anything banana flavored but don’t particularly like bananas. Enjoy live music, but I’ve never been to a big concert venue like a stadium or arena. I want to be good at line dancing, but I’m quick to get offbeat and out of step. Oh, and I’m double jointed.” I reach over and stop his timer. Thirty point two seconds. I sit back and cross my arms, damn proud of that performance.

“Did I pass this round?” Is that what he wanted? Did I share too much? I’m sure I’m boring compared to his life. But based on the growing smirk on his face, I think he’s amused.

“With flying colors, but I have so many questions. A little concerned you stumbled on your age, though.”

I giggle at that. “Yeah, my birthday was last week. With everything going on, I kinda forgot I’ve made another rotation around the sun.”

“Well, we’ll do a belated birthday celebration to make it memorable.”

“Unnecessary. Now it’s your turn.” I reset the timer and hold up his phone. I can’t wait to hear the insight he’ll share. “Go.”

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