to answer that question. My body was telling me I wanted it to happen again, I wanted it a lot. But my mind was telling me Harry spelled trouble. “I’m still processing. I don’t really understand why it happened.”
“You don’t understand why people kiss each other?”
I narrowed my eyes at Ash. “You know what I mean.”
“No, actually, I don’t. He clearly likes you. I can’t imagine he goes around kissing every girl he meets.”
“I’m not so sure. He’s used to getting what he wants. With that face and his money? I’m probably the first girl who didn’t fall at his feet as soon as they saw his Aston Martin. Maybe I’m just a challenge.”
“You’re certainly that.”
I threw a cushion at her.
“You didn’t say whether or not you liked him,” Ash said.
I shrugged. “Like I said, I’m still processing. I’m not supposed to like men like him.” Harry seemed dangerous and out of my league. There was plenty of disappointment in life without encouraging it. “I’m not a glamazon like Millie.”
“No, you’re way more beautiful than Millie, you just don’t show it off in the same way. Listen, you don’t often get to the kissing stage with men. You must like him. I think you need to give him a chance. Don’t write him off.”
Ash was right, I didn’t kiss many men. I certainly didn’t feel the passion I’d felt for Harry in that moment but he had a girlfriend and so whatever I felt didn’t matter.
I did a pretty good job of distracting myself all weekend, but I struggled to get to sleep on Sunday night. I couldn’t wait to get to the office to see Harry. I wondered if he still wanted to talk about our kiss.
I tried not to seem too interested as people filed into the conference room for our Monday morning meeting. The last few meetings we’d sat opposite each other, but as I looked up from my to-do list, it was Emily who had taken the seat in front of me. I quickly scanned the faces of those around the rest of the table. No Harry. I hadn’t brought my phone with me. Had he texted? Or emailed? I tried to think back to Friday. Had he said that he would see me today? Maybe he’d left and was never coming back? He was only filling in, after all. My heart began to race and I swept my hands across my hair, smoothing the stray hair back into my bun.
“So, Haven, I thought you could give us an update on the Sandy Fox piece. How’s it developing?” Robert said.
Shit, that was the last thing I needed. I reached for my Diet Coke and took a swig. “It’s going okay. We’re getting a good amount of time with her and she’s very friendly. I just need to find a good angle.”
“This isn’t the New York Times. You’re not doing an expose,” Emily said from across the table. My stomach clenched. Emily had once told me I acted like I was too good for Rallegra, but the opposite was true—I always felt like an imposter amongst the shiny, glamorous, upbeat staff. I never felt good enough. I guess that was part of the reason I wanted the promotion so badly. It would be evidence that I belonged.
“I think what Emily meant to say was, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Take lots of notes. I’m sure Paris will give you more insight.”
I’d sent Robert an email about our invitation to Paris over the weekend. It sounded like he’d approved it. My stomach clenched at the thought. I’d not been to France since I was a student. Going to interview Sandy in Paris, with Harry . . . I had to force back a smile. It did sound romantic.
Robert didn’t mention Harry, and neither did anyone else. Where was he? I couldn’t wait to get back to my desk to check my messages.
When the meeting finally broke, I quickly went to retrieve my phone. Nothing. Bloody hell. We weren’t due to be back on set until Thursday, but even so. I decided to text him.
Haven: Where are you?
I slung my phone into my skirt pocket and tried to keep myself busy. I had three articles to check. Two were from