TAMING MR. WHITMORE: THE CEO FROM HELL.

HARPER'S POV:

I did it.

I finally stopped being the responsible one. For twenty-one years, I'd lived by rules, obligations, and sacrifices. Las Vegas had exactly seven days to convince me I didn't have to.

I came here with one goal: to make the worst decision of my life and not regret a single second of it.

Hopefully, my little sister never found out what that decision was. She'd either faint... or kill me herself.

"WE'RE GRADUATES, BITCHES! WOOHOO!" Nivea exclaimed.

I flinched, quickly looking around to see if anyone was staring at us as we walked into the hotel lobby. Thankfully, everyone was far more engrossed in the affairs of their lives than to pay attention to loud fresh-out-of college partiers, making a fool of ourselves.

A bride-to-be in a glittering sash stumbled past with half a dozen equally loud bridesmaids, while an Elvis impersonator posed for photos beneath a chandelier.

Still, I elbowed my friend and hissed, "would you tone it down? We haven't even started drinking."

Grinning, Nivea tossed her silk onyx ponytail over her shoulder, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "You're the sober one," she corrected. "had four rum punches on the plane. No... make that five. Six? No, six is too many. Oasis! How many Rum Punch did I have on the plane?"

Oasis, my espresso-haired, breathtaking-disaster of a best friend, with the face of a runway model, shrugged. "I don't know. Can't even remember how many vodka shots I had."

"Me either," slurred Mila, the last of our group. She held out her right hand, inspecting her manicured fingers, her blonde hair flopped over her forehead.

I'd met Nivea and Mila during freshman year at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah. They were roommates in the apartment next to mine, where I lived with Oasis.

Oasis wasn't just my roommate. We'd grown up together, and she'd been my best friend for as long as I could remember.

We'd bonded with Mila and Nivea right away, becoming inseparable, throughout our four years in college.

My jaw dropped as I looked between the three of them. "What the hell? Y'all were having all the fun and I missed out."

Nivea giggled, looping her arm around my shoulder. "Oh, please," she rolled her eyes. "It's not like you've joined. You're the responsible one and would've scolded us if anything." She pinched my cheeks and I swatted her hand away.

"You guys are ridiculous," I scoffed, but couldn't help the grin that tugged at my lips.

"Don't worry, Honey pie," Mila said. "I'll make sure you're nothing but reckless on this trip."

Oh, she didn't have to tell me. I'd made that decision for myself before we hopped on that flight.

"Okay, you three drunks," I pointed at each of them, "stay here while I get us checked in. Try not to get us in trouble before I come back, all right?"

Oasis and Nivea saluted me as Mila said, "Yes, Mom."

"Eww, gross. Don't love that," I scolded her, even though I was feeling very much like I was in a mom-mode as I gazed at their goofy expressions. "Just stay put. Good girls."

I turned and headed for the reception desk. Halfway there, I slipped my hand into my jeans pocket, pulled out my phone, and sent Nicole, my little sister, a quick text.

"We arrived safely. Checking in now. Love you. Let me know if you need anything."

A cocktail waitress glided past balancing drinks without spilling a drop

By the time I reached the desk, the receptionist was already looking my way. He greeted me with an easy smile, as if the shouting match that had erupted across the lobby didn't exist.

I couldn't help noticing how put together he looked. His burgundy shirt sat crisply beneath a tailored dark suit jacket, not a wrinkle in sight.

The lobby was one step away from total chaos, yet he didn't seem rattled in the slightest. No annoyance. No curiosity. Just quiet professionalism.

Either he was the sort of person who refused to let other people's drama ruin his day... or he'd worked here long enough that scenes like ours barely registered anymore.

"Hello." The receptionist smiled as I reached the desk. "Welcome to Preston Vegas Hotel. How may I help you?"

"I'd like to check in." I slid my ID across the counter. "Reservation's under Harper Sullivan."

***

Ten minutes later, after collecting key cards, wrestling our luggage onto a trolley, and dragging Nivea away from an embarrassingly flattered bellhop, we finally made it to our suite.

The moment the hotel room door clicked shut behind us, I spun around to face the others.

"Alright, graduates." I clapped my hands once. "Freshen up, throw on your swimsuits, and let's go celebrate. We did not fly all the way to Las Vegas to spend our first afternoon sleeping."

Nivea groaned and collapsed face-first onto the nearest bed.

"Nope. I'm dead. Wake me tomorrow."

I laughed and unzipped my suitcase.

"Not happening. I'm here to let loose for once. To stop overthinking everything and make at least one terrible decision."

Silence.

I looked up.

Three pairs of eyes were staring at me like I'd announced I was joining a motorcycle gang.

Mila blinked twice.

"Who are you?"

She marched over, grabbed my shoulders, and gave me an exaggerated shake.

"What have you done with Harper?"

I peeled her hands off me, laughing.

"It's still me."

"I don't buy it," Oasis said, dropping onto the other bed. "Our Harper voluntarily making bad decisions? Someone check if Mercury's in retrograde."

"You'd be surprised." I rummaged through my suitcase. "I want to hit the pool before dinner, maybe explore the Strip tonight..."

Mila gasped dramatically.

"Oh my God."

She pointed at me like she'd solved a murder.

"The good girl is finally going wild."

"I never said wild."

"You didn't have to."

She bounced on the balls of her feet.

"Please tell me you're about to do something completely out of character."

I bit back a smile.

"I do have... a mission for this trip."

Three synchronized groans filled the room.

"Oh, no," Oasis said. "Why does that sound like you've made a spreadsheet?"

"Because she probably has," Nivea muttered.

I placed a hand over my chest.

"I'll have you know strategic planning is exactly why I survive."

"Boring," Nivea sang.

"So boring," Oasis agreed.

I rolled my eyes.

"You two can bully me after you've showered. Bathroom. Now. Swimsuits. Move."

Still laughing, they disappeared toward the bathroom, shoving each other through the doorway.

The room fell quiet.

Mila scooted across the bed until she was sitting beside me.

She lowered her voice.

"So..."

I kept folding a dress into the drawer.

"...what exactly is this mission of yours?"

I folded the last dress, closed the drawer, and looked up.

God, even saying it out loud felt wrong

I let out a slow breath. "I'm going to lose my virginity."