“No men, in my sight at all times, sir,” I repeated.
“Set rules if you have to. Keep her at home. I can send her friends over for vacations and your dear mother too if she’s up for it. I know it’s asking a great deal of you, Wyatt, but I can’t have her here in Wexler and running amuck—getting into this kind of trouble.”
“I understand completely, I can take care of Harley for six months or a year, or however you see fit, sir.”
“I’ll send along a hefty compensation, Wyatt. I know it’s a lot to ask. Are you papers in order?”
“I have a passport.”
“Perfect, then Mrs. Patterson can help Harley pack and I’ll put you both on the nine o’clock out of New York, you’ll arrive in Rome tomorrow morning. I’ll tie up your trailer in the Banks and have your belongings shipped express to Italy. I’m so glad we could all come together on a solution.”
I nodded at Brooks and winked discreetly at Harley.
“Good man,” Brooks said, clapping me on the back. “She’s an obstinate child, a bit of a hellion, but she’s got a good heart, Wyatt and with your guidance, I think this could be a good turn for her,” he cleared his throat as if he were hiding the words from his daughter. “There’s a matter of significant importance that Harley will have to debrief you on later.”
…
Forty-five minutes later, Harley bounded down the stairs in a red velour hoodie and her signature short-as-can be cut-offs. She had on black sandals and a stack of Louis Vuitton suitcases were arranged by the front door. She walked up to me and put her hand in mine, tipped her head up and batted her long lashes. It took everything I had in me not to ravish her right there.
“How do you feel about Italy?” she asked me.
“If it’s the only way to get you to behave, Harley Brooks, then I guess Italy it is.”
She nodded her head and after a quick hug with her father and brother and hearty handshakes for me, we walked to the garage with one of the new hired hands pulling a dolly of fancy suitcases.
“Birdcage?” I asked her.
“Let’s take the spider,” she said, raising an eyebrow at me.
Chapter 11
WYATT
The jet was chartered and we were the only ones on it. I thought Italian luxury cars had smooth running engines, but apparently it was nothing compared to a Boeing 747-430. I’d never left the country, hell, I’d never really been out of Wexler, but Brooks had seen to it that I got a passport last year in case he ever needed me in Italy on account of the new venture.
Right now, I didn’t care if I ever went back. If I could live the rest of my life with Harley by my side, I didn’t care where the fuck we were, heaven, hell, a trailer in South Banks or a chateau over-looking the ocean. I’d live the rest of my life on this airplane if it meant I got to keep Harley tethered to me.
I grabbed a down blanket from a cabinet in the back and brought it back to Harley who was fully reclined on white leather seat drinking grapefruit juice. She had the chills and was coming down off of something. I covered her and tucked in the edges, sat down beside her and crossed my legs.
To say I was in awe of this woman was an understatement. I didn’t even know how to begin a conversation about what just transpired from when I’d last seen her to where we were now.
She took a sip of juice and pulled out her ear buds.
“I wanted to tell you—”
“We don’t have to talk about it.”
“I know that, Harley, but I have to say something. I wanted to tell you that while you packed, I destroyed all the security footage from this morning all the way back to the day of the blackout.”
“You’re so handy, Wyatt.” She cheers’ed my glass of ice water with her juice. “Thank you for doing that.”
“I thought it would work in our favor if I left the pool maintenance guys arriving when they were not supposed to be there.”
“Good thinking.”
“I know who he was, but what I don’t know is what you had to go through to make that happen, but I’m grateful and indebted to you. I guess I want to say thank you. Thank you from Kat, too.”
“You’re welcome,” she said. Harley grabbed my face and kissed me sweetly on the lips.
“What was the other matter of “significant importance” your dad wanted us to discuss?”
“I’ll tell you only if you promise not to get mad.” Harley flung her long leg over my lap and I touched her cheek, looking into her big blue eyes.
“I can’t get angry at you. I can lose it on people who try to fuck with you, but I don’t get mad at you, Harley,” I told her.