A Forever Kind of Family. Brenda Harlen
rise in the bowl. “Yes,” she finally admitted. “There is part of me that wants to do exactly that.”
“And another part?” he prompted.
Harper plunged her hands into the water and began to wash the pots. “We had a long talk when Melissa asked if I would be the baby’s guardian,” she said, not directly answering his question. “While she was pregnant, when he was still ‘the baby’ and not yet Oliver. I thought it was strange that she would be thinking about such things before her child was even born, but Melissa always did like to be prepared, to run her life according to a specific plan.”
“It’s a good thing she did,” Ryan said. “Because Darren wouldn’t know a plan if it bit him in the butt.”
She smiled at that. “True. Anyway, I asked her—why me? Aside from the fact that I was her best friend, what made her think I could ever be the right choice to help raise her child?”
Harper remembered every word of their conversation, could still hear the echo of her friend’s voice in the back of her mind so clearly that it made her chest ache and her throat burn.
“What did she say?” Ryan prompted gently.
“That she chose me because she knew if anything ever happened to her so that she couldn’t raise her child, I would love him as much as she did,” she confided. “And that’s the part that won’t let me walk away—the echo of Melissa’s voice in my mind, asking me to love her little boy for her. Because I already do.”
He touched a hand to her shoulder. “Then I’d say it’s obvious that she made the right choice.”
Harper still wasn’t convinced, but she knew that she wasn’t going to let down her friend. Not if she could help it.
* * *
Ryan considered it progress that he and Harper had actually managed to have a fifteen-minute conversation without sniping at one another. It was a minor step, and he knew they were going to have to do a lot better than that if they were going to figure out a way to make this guardianship situation work for Oliver, but at least it was a step in the right direction.
Considering that he’d known her for so many years, he really didn’t know her at all. And maybe that was his fault. He’d never made much of an effort, because it had seemed like too much of an effort.
The first time he’d met her, he’d been willing to consider all kinds of possibilities. Darren had assured him that it wasn’t a setup; it was just his girlfriend wanting his best friend to meet her best friend. And since Ryan liked Melissa well enough, he’d figured he’d like her friend, too.
And he had. Harper was attractive—even more so than he’d hoped. About five-five, he’d guessed, with brown hair and dark chocolate-colored eyes. She was a little on the skinny side, but her perfectly shaped lips enticed him to hang on to her every word.
They’d talked about college: she was studying journalism at NYU and hoped to work in television; he was in his final year of business at Columbia. She’d asked about his future plans, he’d said that he didn’t have any specific plans, and she’d shut down.
It wasn’t exactly the truth—he’d always known that he would go to work at Garrett Furniture, but he’d learned to be cautious about revealing his connection to the company. Too many women wanted to be with him because he was a Garrett and heir to at least part of the furniture empire of the same name.
Harper had decided then and there that he lacked ambition. Later, when she found out that he was one of the Garretts, the information had done nothing to bolster her opinion of him. In fact, she’d insisted that it only proved he was too lazy to make his own way outside the family business. He didn’t care what she thought—he liked what he did and enjoyed being part of the continued success of the company his grandfather had built.
Yet despite the obvious personality conflicts between Harper and himself, there was an undeniable sizzle in the air whenever they were together. It had been there from the start and was still there. Even when one or the other—or both—had been dating someone else, the air fairly vibrated with electricity between them. It was a phenomenon that he found as baffling as it was intriguing.
Not that he’d had any intention of ever acting upon it. Especially considering that Harper had always given a clear and unequivocal hands-off vibe...right up until the night that she’d begged him to put his hands on her.
And that was definitely not something that he should be thinking about now.
Going forward, he had to keep his focus on Oliver and not let himself be distracted by the memory of Harper’s warm, naked body wrapped around his.
“You are doing a great job with Oliver,” he said now, as he helped load the dishwasher. “But between your work schedule and the demands of a grieving infant, it’s obvious that you’re exhausted.”
“I’m so flattered that you noticed.”
His brow lifted in response to her sarcasm. “I’m dragging, too, and I’m only working part-time right now.”
“Part-time isn’t an option for me.”
“Then maybe you should think about taking some time off.”
“I did think about it,” she said bluntly. “I can’t.”
He pressed on anyway. “You went back to work only days after the funeral—when did you think about it?”
“In the time between learning about the accident and returning to work,” she told him. “I would have taken more time if I could, but there’s too much going on with the show right now. In fact, we’ve got Lucy Gibbs on the schedule for tomorrow morning, so I have to go in half an hour earlier because she likes to review all of the questions with me beforehand.”
“She can’t do that with someone else?”
“The last time she was on the show and I wasn’t there, she bullied and harassed one of our production assistants to the point that he almost quit.”
“She sounds charming,” he said drily.
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter that she’s a prima donna when her name is money at the box office.”
“If you’re going in early, will you be able to leave early?”
“I’m going to try,” she said. “But there were a couple of day-care centers that I wanted to check out on my way back.”
He frowned. “You want to put Oliver in day care?”
“I don’t see that we have any choice.” She neatly folded the dishcloth and draped it over the towel bar inside the cupboard.
“Don’t you think we should talk about this—to see if we can’t figure something else out? For God’s sake, Harper, the kid just lost both of his parents and you want to abdicate responsibility for his care to strangers?”
“It’s not what I want. It’s what the reality of the situation demands.” She braced her hands on the edge of the counter behind her and faced him. “I don’t have the luxury of working for a company owned by my family,” she told him. “If I don’t go to work, I don’t get paid.”
“If the issue is money, I’ll pay—”
“No.” She cut him off sharply. “It’s not only about money.”
“I know how important your career is to you,” he said.
But Harper didn’t think he did. Because her career was more than important—it was what defined her.
She’d started as an assistant to the property manager at WNCC-TV fresh out of college and worked her way through the ranks to become an associate producer of the award-winning morning program Coffee Time with Caroline. In the process, she’d sacrificed weekends and vacations, missed get-togethers with friends, turned