How to Date an Asshole

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

"Lauren?" Harper's voice came from her office. I stood from my chair to see her. She waved for me to come to her.

"Uh-oh," Dominic said.

"Oh, shut up, Dominic," I said then walked towards Harper's office.

"Anything I can do for you, Harper?" I asked by her door. She motioned for me to sit.

"Not for me, no."

"Oh." I stilled before I sat, "What is it?" I asked, my back straight, ass occupying half the space.

"Oh well, I..." she fiddled with her thumbs. "I really shouldn't be telling you this." She looked everywhere but me.

"You're making me nervous, Harper," I said with a low chuckle.

"Oh, I really shouldn't." she waved her hands in dismissal, blatantly ignoring me.

"You can tell me if I'm in trouble... right?"

She stood from her chair and walked back and forth at the back of her desk.

"Harper?"

"Oh, but I can't take it any longer."

"What is it, Harper? You can tell me." I felt my forehead crease.

She stopped pacing around and took a deep breath, "Okay," She said, mostly to herself.

"Harper, you're making me worry right now."

She closed her eyes for a second and shook her head. "I can't. I shouldn't."

"What? Why?"

She hissed in a breath, "I'll just show you." She grabbed her bag and coat from her back-file cabinet.

"What?" I stood from my seat.

"Get your things. Follow me."

I know she's my boss but this is getting weird. I pursed my lips and nodded slightly, "Okay."

She walked out of her office. I followed her and we earned a couple of glances from the office area.

I quickly went to my cubicle and grabbed my stuff.

May raised her brows at me in question. "What's happening? Are you being sacked?" she whispered, worry evident in her eyes.

"I don't know," I whispered back and looked over to where Harper is. She's now exiting the room. "I gotta go," I said to her then jogged to keep up with Harper's pace.

"Sharon, call the car to the front," Harper said as we passed by the reception area.

"Will do, Ms. Campbell." She nodded then immediately picked up the phone and rang up downstairs.

"Where are we going, Harper?" I asked as we reached the elevator.

"Just... Follow me, okay?"

I cleared my throat, "Okay."

I followed as Harper strutted down the downstairs lobby. No doubt she's part-owner of an International modeling agency. Every bit of her screams elegance and grace. She pulled out an oversized sunglass from her coat and put it on as the doorman opened the door for us.

A limo pulled up in front of us.

This is the car?

She stepped inside and I followed.

"The Met." She said to the chauffeur and the car started to move.

I was about to ask her what we'll do at The Met but she pulled out her phone from her bag and began typing away.