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“I feel like I have missed something important,” Gwyneth stated, flopping on the bed as they arrived back in their apartment in Seattle.

Compared to their hotel room in New York, their apartment flat was small and humid. Harper opened the windows and let some fresh air come in, fanning herself with her hands.

She then sat in front of her luggage and watched her friend sigh with relief after coming home from a 6-hours flight. While Gwyneth immediately savored being back on her bed, Harper unloaded her luggage.

She wanted to salvage the white dress by throwing it in the washer.

“I could sleep like a baby,” Gwyneth shut her eyes close for a minute before sitting back up and gazing towards Harper.

“Woman,” she called out. Harper lifted her head up from pulling out her things inside the small suitcase. “You need to tell me honestly; you weren’t talking to your brother last night, were you?”

Harper pursed her lips. Nothing seemed to have gone unnoticed from her friend's keen observation.

She contemplated telling Gwyneth the truth or sticking to the lie she had already started.

With a sigh, Harper knew she could trust Gwyneth with her life.

She could keep a secret. That was proven over the period they had been roomies and friends.

The secret would no longer be safe only if Gwyneth got drunk and accidentally heard a trigger word.

Harper blew out a sigh, skipping the part where she was going to wash her used clothes and joined Gwyneth on her bed.

The mattress hollowed at her added weight.

There were only two beds around their apartment. It was mainly a room for her and Gwyneth to sleep in.

There was a bathroom and a small corner where they could eat a meal and a sink to wash their dishes.

The small space rarely allowed them to cook or prepare anything else. But for Harper, who was not a fan of cooking her meals, that was fine. She couldn’t say the same for Gwyneth, though.

Yet they learned to live peacefully in the shabby space they considered home.

“I was talking to Ro, you know the one I told you about who spilled coffee on me and became my date?”

Gwyneth immediately gasped.

“Did you happen to learn his full name?”

Harper bit on her lower lip. She stared at the ceiling, Roland Bretford’s handsome face appearing in her line of vision.

“Umm, hello? Earth to Harper?”

Harper chuckled.

“Yes, I did.”

Gwyneth squealed, tickling Harper by the neck. The latter was out of the bed in an instant. She raised her hands in surrender. Gwyneth’s hair was a jumble on top of her head after getting up from lying down.

“So, what’s his name?”

Harper held Gwyneth’s gaze. Her friend waited expectantly.

“Promise me you will never tell anyone about this.”

Gwyneth nodded vigorously.

“I swear on everything I could swear on that I will never ever tell a single soul about this super-hot soon-to-be boyfriend of yours.”

Harper had to snort but give it to Gwyneth to be serious and hilarious at the same time.

“If anyone outside our circle knows this secret, I won’t talk to you for an entire month.”

“You could put your bet on it, babe. Come on, and you already made me wait for too long.”

Still swimming in uncertainty, Harper took a deep breath and sighed. She stared at Gwyneth.

“His name is Roland Bretford, and yes, that Roland Bretford. I’m not kidding you.”

Gwyneth blinked. And then blinked again. She narrowed her gaze towards Harper, trying to see if she was pulling her leg or not.

“Your coffee-man is Roland Bretford? The famous, smoking hot Roland Bretford? No way!”

“Yes, way. I had the same reaction, you know. But I needed to stop myself from gushing, or that would have immediately given me away.”

Gwyneth had her phone in her hand. She was typing furiously before she looked at Harper, flashing her phone’s screen towards her.

A photo of Roland Bretford was displayed on it.

“You were at your ex-husband’s wedding with him?”

“Yes, Gwyn. And you might not believe it, but Adeline was so thrilled to have him there. She couldn’t stop boasting about it to her guests.”

“And then throw insults towards you after admiring your date.”

Harper scoffed. She went back to unloading her luggage and tried not to recall the part about Wilson’s family mocking her.

“They can say anything about me. But they better not insult my entire clan, or I’ll be sure to make them regret that.”

--

“I like it,” Roland murmured, admiring the pieces presented before him from the small studio he chose to visit after the plane landed.

His personal assistant was calling him unstoppably. He rode the plane on a whim, ruining the schedule that Hyacinth had carefully prepared.

The staff present had all been ogling at him. Roland knew they were probably wondering what he was doing in their studio.

Roland didn’t bother to introduce himself, neither did he say what he wanted or who. He just welcomed himself in and had a brief look around.

Once the person he was looking for would arrive, they would know. They would then know who he came for and why.

“Are you looking for a newly tailored dress for your special someone, sir?” An older woman who Roland could estimate must be around in her fifties approached him. Her dark-rimmed glasses allowed him to see enough of her greenish irises.

Roland glanced at his watch and tried to smile at the woman. He had no intention of giving them a wrong first impression.

Although he was quite certain, he already appeared as someone rude in their perspective.

“I’m actually just buying time. Is my presence not welcomed here?”

The woman gasped, shaking her head vehemently.

“No,” she stated. “We don’t mind at all. Would you like some coffee?”

Roland realized he might have gone too far with that reply. The woman wiped away the sweat that had instantly appeared on her forehead.

Or maybe it was because of the humid atmosphere inside the studio. There was only one air conditioning to be found in one corner. So it was to be expected that the studio wouldn’t be ice-cold.

Roland had wanted to redeem himself. But the sound of the wind chimes with the door opening got his and the older woman’s attention.

‘Finally.’ Roland exclaimed in his thoughts, catching sight of Harper’s surprised expression.

It was actually not a surprised one. The emotion on her face was that of shock.

“Hello, Harper.”