Page 144 of The Bodyguard Situation

“I believed in you. I still do,” I say, remembering how hard she worked to save Bellamore after her ex tried to take everything away from us.

“You stood by me when I didn’t believe in myself, Harp.” She looks away, toward the window, like she’s trying to hold back her emotions. “You stayed by my side anyway.”

I nod, throat tight. “That’s what we do, right?”

“Yes,” she whispers. “It’s what we do. Love you, Harp. Thank you for being my very best friend. I will walk through the fire with you.”

I feel my emotions bubble. “It’s mutual.”

The silence that fills the room is the kind that lives in truth. In shared history. In all the versions of us that got buried along the way and all the new ones we’re still becoming.

She leans forward, her eyes on my ring now. “Brody’s good for you. He doesn’t try to take anything from you. He just shows up.”

A smile touches my lips. “That’s what Brody hasalwaysdone best.”

She reaches over and squeezes my hand once, then leans back with a little sigh. “All right, enough emotional vulnerability. Let’s pick floral palettes before I start crying and have to fire someone for seeing it.”

* * *

By the timeBillie launches into an argument over table arrangements—“Round tables are elegant, Harper, not basic”—I slip out of her office and into the hall, needing a snack. Or air. I could be a little drunk. Okay, I’m tipsy.

I slide onto the bench beside the showroom window and pull out my phone. A new text is waiting, time-stamped five minutes ago.

Brody

How’s the day drinking on the clock?

Brody

Should I send a rescue team or a pizza?

I smile before I can stop it.

Harper

Billie is currently rage-pinning silk ribbon colors. Pray for me.

Three dots appear immediately, then disappear, then appear again. I can almost see him pacing our penthouse, shirtless and barefoot, pretending he’s not waiting for me like I’m his plan.

Brody

Tell her I’ll forgive her for stealing you during your lunch break … if she sends me a cake.

Brody

Or you in nothing but frosting.

My cheeks flush as I bite back a laugh.

Harper

That could be arranged.

He replies with a photo—him on the couch, shirtless, legs stretched out, a glass of whiskey in one hand and that lazy smirk on his face that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

Brody

Remind me again why you’re planning a wedding right now? Seems like a lot of work when we could be naked.

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