Sinclair Publishing House was a family business for everyone in the family except Arthur Sinclair's youngest son, Harris. Harris wanted nothing to do with it, which was fine until his grandfather left Arthur in charge with a rather problematic conti...
A/N: We officially have a new character. Meet Iva Brunner.
Oups ! Cette image n'est pas conforme à nos directives de contenu. Afin de continuer la publication, veuillez la retirer ou télécharger une autre image.
Iva stood in the hallway, looking me up and down in my leggings and Harris' tattered NYU sweatshirt. Her words seemed stuck in the back of her throat. One of us had to speak and cut the tension and it was going to have to be me. "Hi. Can I help you with something?" Like finding the way out?
"Um, I'm looking for Harris Sinclair. I was supposed to get a hold of him later tonight, but I thought I'd just stop by..." she looked past me and into the apartment, seeing my blanket strewn across the couch and my drink on the table, then focused back on me. "I should have called first. I'm sorry." She was fumbling her words and clearly flustered as her once pale cheeks turned a bright red and her freckles seemed to darken.
"You're Iva, right?" I boldly asked.
"Yes." She didn't reply with a 'you must be Atty', so she clearly didn't know my name, even though she knew he was 'seeing someone'.
"He is going to be back in a little while. I can call and get any exact ETA if you want- he just told me late afternoon last time he called."
She shook her head, seeming embarrassed. "No. I... I'll just text him." She went to leave and turned back. "Thank you." She looked broken and puzzled- searching for my name and clearly not ready to see someone had already replaced her.
"I'm Wyatt, but people call me Atty. I can tell him that you stop by."
"Thanks," she said softly before descending the stairs. I didn't even let her get to the second landing before I closed the door and locked her out. I hated that she was in the city. Hadn't she come with friends? Where were they? Why was she at his door by herself? I picked up my phone and dialed my non-boyfriend to tell him that his ex-girlfriend just paid him a visit.
- "Hey, baby!" he said as he answered, clearly still in the car with his dad who also greeted me, but more formally.
- "So, I'm on speaker?" I asked him.
- "You don't have to be." I heard him shifting things around in the car, then he answered, clearly with the phone up to his ear.
- "What's up?"
- "I just met Iva." There was a long pause on his side of the call. He didn't know what to say... kinda how I didn't know what to say when she knocked on the door. "I didn't know that she knew where you lived?"
- "She has my address for shipping stuff. I knew she was flying in tomorrow, but not today and I certainly didn't ask her to come over."
- "I know you didn't. Her shock when I answered the door in your clothes instead of you made that clear." He giggled at that little tidbit of information. Then, there was another long pause.
- "I do have to see her, but not today." A smile grew on my face. He was choosing me over the stunning woman who had just stopped by his apartment. In the one minute I had with her, I could tell that Iva was nothing like me. She was shorter than me, with the most incredible red hair and perfectly placed freckles. Her eyes were kind, and innocent- she hadn't lived through the kind of life that I had growing up. Then she spoke. Her accent was delicious and if that hadn't given away that she wasn't American, the way she dressed and carried herself definitely did.
