Chapter 31

Harper’s POV

"Where's Eric?" I scanned the pub, weaving between low-lit booths and the thrum of late-night noise.

"Over here!" his voice rang out from the back.

He waved both arms above a table cluttered with shot glasses, an untouched bowl of peanuts, and enough empty bottles to supply a recycling drive.

I practically jogged over. "Eric, how much have you had?"

He stood—barely—and pulled me into a clumsy hug. “I missed you, friend”

The way his chin rested on top of my head like we were puzzle pieces that somehow still fit after all these years… it wasn’t fair.

"Okay, drama boy. Let’s get you some water—"

"I broke up with Historia," he blurted, eyes glassy.

I blinked. “You what?”

"She said I don’t like her. That I spend too much time with other people. With work. That I’m too... loose?"

I sat down beside him, slowly pouring us both shots. “Loose? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You just like people.”

He shook his head. “Apparently I like them more than her.”

There was a beat of silence. He swirled his glass.

“And she said... maybe I like someone else more.”

I went stiff. He didn’t look at me—just leaned forward, elbows on the table. “There aren’t even any girls around me.”

Ouch.

He glanced over lazily, eyes bloodshot. “Oh, but you’re a girl, Harper,” he said with a grin, ruffling my hair like I was a dog he’d had since kindergarten. “Almost forgot.”

My stomach dropped.

“Okay! That’s enough alcohol therapy for one night,” I said, grabbing my bag.

He caught my wrist. “Wait. Don’t leave. Drink with me.”

“I have work tomorrow.”

“I’m sad tomorrow too.”

My mouth twitched. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“Not tonight.”

He laughed and poured another round. “To eternal friendship!”

I raised my glass and smiled. It cracked halfway to my lips.

“To... whatever this is.”

And just like that, I drank to the man I loved—who never even noticed I was a woman until the fourth shot in.

Riley’s POV

"I thought we were getting dinner?" I said, walking toward the window seat Rachel had already claimed.

She looked up from her wine glass, smiling like a Cheshire cat. “I was starving. You’re late.”

"You texted me fifteen minutes ago," I deadpanned, sliding into the seat opposite hers.

“And yet here you are.” She poured me a glass without asking. “So. How are you?”

I forced a smile and reached for my fork. We worked at the same company, but not the same building—and not the same planet, apparently. Rachel had the remarkable ability to turn every conversation into a performance, with her as the dazzling lead and the rest of us as confused extras.

[RACHEL vs. RILEY]

ROUND 1:

Rachel: “You must be swamped lately. All those international contracts—our division’s really blowing up.”

Me: “Sure.”

Translation: I have literally no idea what she’s talking about and I’m too tired to care.

WINNER: RACHEL

ROUND 2:

Me: “Must be why I’m getting a ‘measly bonus.’ You know, the kind barely worth depositing.”

Rachel flinched. That one landed.

WINNER: RILEY

FINAL ROUND:

Rachel stabbed a piece of steak, smiling too sweetly. “Make sure to save that bonus. You’ll need it soon.”

I paused. “Why?”

“You’ll be buying me a wedding gift.”

I choked.

“You’re getting married?” I asked, barely hiding the shriek.

“Well... not yet.” She beamed. “But I’m going on a blind date next week.”

I blinked.

“With the CEO of GlowMira.”

I dropped my knife.

Game over.

WINNER: RACHEL BROWN.

Harper’s POV

Later that night, I had collapsed into bed, still half-tipsy and fully drained. Eric had passed out halfway through his fifth ‘To heartbreak!’ toast. I’d made sure he got home safe. But my chest still ached from the weight of what hadn’t been said.

I stared at the ceiling. When did it stop hurting the way it used to? Maybe that was worse.

Maybe I was starting to accept it.

A different voice pulled me out of my spiral.

“Harper Adams!”

My eyes flew open. My head was still slumped on my desk, cheek smushed into the neck pillow I kept hidden behind my monitor.

Jean—who, for some reason, always managed to appear exactly when I was embarrassing myself—was staring at me, unimpressed.

"WAHH—Yes?! What?!" I jolted up.

She crossed her arms. “Did you check the group chat?”

“Why?” I grabbed my phone.

Keith (Dept Head): Team dinner. Mandatory. CEO’s joining. No excuses. Or you die.

Sasha: IS THERE MEAT?!

Keith: BLOUSE. WORK.

I dropped the phone. "Oh no."

"The big boss wants to eat with the little people,” Jean muttered, sipping her coffee.

Connor popped his head over our cubicle wall. “Attendance is not optional.”

"I'm going to die" I whispered, already mentally rehearsing my fake cough.

Ethan’s POV

David handed me another report. “Associate Director Max was tied to the fraud. We have evidence.”

“Fire him.”

“Sir, there might be backlash—”

“Let them try.”

He exhaled. “Also… team dinner. You're still attending?”

“Yes.”

“You're overbooked. I’ve pushed everything but weekends.”

“I'll manage.”

He hesitated. “The chairman says you agreed to another blind date.”

I didn’t respond.

“You’re still doing it?” he pressed.

"So… you’ve given up on Harper?"

I looked at him evenly. “No. I’m marrying Harper Adams.”

David blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“You’re still going on the date though?”

I slipped on my blazer. “No. You are.”

"...Excuse me?", His jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

I gave him a look.

"You’ll go in my place. And smile."

“...I hate you,” he muttered.

“You’ll look great in a suit.”