But there it is, right on my phone screen. The Larkspur, Park Avenue. I tilt my chin up, examining the building. It says Larkspur right on it.

  But this can’t be right.

  “You made it!” a familiar voice says.

  I turn and see Jason walking down the street. Though it’s Saturday, he’s in his suit again. Does this man ever not look like he just stepped off of a movie screen?

  He sweeps past me, heading toward the door. “I only have an hour—I need to catch a flight to Chicago at noon. Come on, I’ll show you around!” he says. “Hey, Don,” he adds, nodding at the doorman, who seems to snap to attention.

  I jog to catch up to Jason, whose long strides have taken him straight past me in thirty seconds flat.

  “Mr. Raynes, nice to see you, sir,” the doorman says, as he opens the door wide for us.

  “Did you drive?” Jason asks me. “There’s a parking spot that goes with the apartment. It’s in the garage, below the building. I’m sorry, I should have told you.”

  “I didn’t drive…” I say. “Jason—is this really where my new apartment is?” I’m still trying to catch up to him as we head for an elevator. My flip-flops slap against the marble floor, and the suitcase I’m dragging has one squeaky wheel. It’s embarrassing. Jason turns and looks over his shoulder.

  “Yes. Will this do?”

  Will this do?

  “I—yes—yes, it’s great. I’ve just never lived somewhere this nice.”

  He looks confused. “You haven’t even seen it yet,” he says.

  “I know, but…”

  The elevator arrives, and we step inside.

  “Jason, I don’t need anything this fancy,” I say.

  What is wrong with me? It’s like I’m allergic to wealth or something. Don’t I think that I deserve a nice apartment?

  I blame my middle-class upbringing. Once, my mom scolded me for using a whole paper towel when a half would do. I guess the stuff I learned in psych 101 was spot on—those early memories stay with you. As we’re being carried upwards, toward my new home, I feel strangely guilty.

  I’m still rambling on in protest. “I mean, I appreciate your offer of housing, but I didn’t expect something like this. I’d be fine with—”

  “Harper,” Jason says, interrupting me. “You’re going to like it here. And it’s safe. I want you to be safe.” When he says this, his eyes burn with intensity.

  “Why are you worried about my safety?” I ask. “New York is no more dangerous than Boston, is it?”

  He gives me a weird look, opens his mouth, and then closes it again. I feel like he wants to say something, but he’s holding back.

  “What?” I ask.

  He sighs. “Sure, New York is similar to Boston.”

  I sense that there’s more to his concerns, but the elevator stops and the doors open before I can press him further. Jason steps out and I follow him down a hallway of doors. Each door is uniquely decorated, and I can tell they are permanent residences. Brass plaques announce last names. The Dursts live in 109, and the Steins are in 110. There’s a wreath of flowers hanging on 111.

  When we reach 112, I feel a thrill run through me. This is going to be my new home.

  “Charlie’s last tutor, Mrs. Thompson, lived here up until last week,” Jason says, while he opens the door with a key. “She had to move back to Michigan to care for her mother, but before that, she was with us for five years. I think she enjoyed it.”

  Jason steps into the apartment, and I follow.

  The space feels more like a house than an apartment. I’m used to small, dark apartments, ones with narrow hallways and just enough windows to remind you that an outside world exists.

  This apartment is open and bright. The ceilings are high, and there isn’t a narrow hallway in sight.

  I think I’m still in denial. This can’t be my new home. We start to walk through the rooms, taking a quick little tour. Jason is still moving fast, and it’s hard to keep up with him.

  “You’ll have cable, Wi-Fi, air conditioning… The neighbors on either side of you are very quiet, and the building has strict rules about noise control, so no loud music after ten. There’s a gym on the first floor, and a pool on the roof. Mrs. Thompson had a dog and I know that there was some kind of a dog-walking service that she signed up for. Do you have pets?”

  “No. No pets and, uh, no car either. You asked earlier—about the car. I didn’t drive here. I took the train.”

  “The train! I didn’t realize people still took trains. You should have said something; I could have sent a chopper.”

  The mention of flying seems to jog Jason’s memory, and he looks at his watch.

  “Damn it, I really have to get moving,” he says.

  He looks up at me. For the first time all day, we’re both still. We’re standing in the middle of the living room. For a brief instant, I’m reminded of our last night at the Roussillon, when we practically cuddled on the couch. The thought makes me feel lightheaded. I bite my lip and look down.

  “What do you think?” Jason asks. “Will this work for you?”

  “It’s amazing,” I say. “Thank you.”

  I glance up at him, and there I go, batting my lashes again. I’m going to have to get this flirting under control if I’m going to work for this man.

  He smiles, and for an instant, I feel that invisible electric field flowing between us again.

  It’s a good feeling.

  His teeth are white and perfectly straight. Now that he’s clean shaven, I notice that when he smiles, a dimple appears on his cheek. How did I miss that before?

  He reaches into his pocket, and takes out his phone. Inwardly, I groan. There’s that pesky phone again, interrupting at the worst possible time.

  He starts typing something. “I’m going to send you my driver’s number now. Here’s the home address, too—this is where you’ll be working with Charlie. We have a great learning space set up. See you Monday morning?”

  My phone buzzes in my purse with the message he’s just sent. “I’ll be there,” I say.

  “Wonderful.” He heads for the door. “Well, happy housewarming! My housekeeper stocked the fridge for you, and there’s a bottle of champagne in there too. I thought you might like to celebrate your arrival in New York. Sorry that I can’t stay longer.” He looks at his watch again.

  “Go,” I say. “I’ll see you Monday.”

  “If you think of any questions, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll check my phone between meetings.”

  I follow him to the door, and stand there in the doorway as he heads for the elevator.

  “Safe travels!” I call out.

  “Thanks, Harper!” he calls back.

  He’s gone. And I’m home.

  When Monday arrives, I feel completely ready and excited to start work. I’ve been brushing up on first-grade curriculum all weekend, and I even communicated with Mrs. Thompson, whose contact information was provided by Jason. I know exactly where Charlie is in his studies, and I’m prepared to make the transition to a new tutor as smooth as possible for him.

  What I’m not prepared for is the size of the Raynes mansion. It’s palatial! The driver, who kindly picked me up in the city, drops me off at five to eight at the top of a U-shaped driveway. A flight of stairs stretches before me, and then, beyond that, I see the front of the mansion. It’s far larger than any house we’ve passed on the street, though they did get bigger and bigger as we neared the address.

  I get out of the car, my work bag and purse over one arm. I’m struck speechless by the size of the mansion, so I’m sure the driver thinks I’m a bit nutty as he waits patiently for me to answer the question he just asked.

  “Ma’am?” he prompts me.

  “Uh… What was that?”

  “I asked what time you’d like to be driven back to the city this evening.”

  “Oh… I’m not really sure. Could I… Do you mind if I call you? I don’t want to be a bother, but—”

  He waves off my concerns. “It’s no trouble. Have a good day, miss.”

  “Thank you.” I whisper it so quietly that I’m sure the driver doesn’t hear me. But he walks off anyways, and soon the car pulls away. I’m left to climb the flight of stairs leading up to the twenty-foot tall double doors all by myself.

  There are towering white columns on either side of me, connected by high arches. As I wait for the door to be answered, I look out over the grounds. There’s so much manicured green lawn that I almost feel like we’re in the middle of a golf course. I know that property is expensive in Queens, but apparently that doesn’t stop Jason from owning enough land for half a dozen homes.

  The door opens behind me, and I swivel around.

  Jason greets me warmly. He’s just straightening his tie, and he doesn’t have a suit jacket on yet, though the rest of his business attire is intact: perfectly fitted pants, check. Shining black belt, polished dress shoes, white top that highlights his subtly tanned skin? Check, check, check.

  He smells good too, like aftershave, and his hair looks slightly damp. I wonder if he’s just gotten out of the shower.

  “Come on in!” he says. “Welcome. Let me show you around.” He holds the door open.

  I step tentatively inside, looking around in amazement.

  The interior is contemporary chic, with white-washed walls. I note a few abstract paintings, and a floor-to-ceiling sculpture of a bear standing on its hind legs, carved out of black stone. As Jason leads me through the house, I find myself wondering if I’ll ever get used to being surrounded by such beautiful settings.

  We enter a vast kitchen, and I see Charlie, perched on a stool at one of the granite counter tops. He’s lifting a spoon that’s dripping with milk toward his mouth, but when he sees me, he drops it back to his bowl. It lands with a splash.

  “Harper!” he signs.

  “Charlie! Hi, buddy. Your house is awesome!” It’s easier to say this to Charlie than it would be to say it to Jason, and I feel myself relax a little now that I can communicate on kid terms.

  “Thanks!” he signs. “Wait till I show you the arcade room! And we have a movie theater. And a pool!”

  I look at Jason, with questioning eyes, as if to say, “Really? Or is Charlie pulling my leg?”

  “True story,” signs Jason. He walks up to Charlie, smooths back his hair, and kisses him on the forehead. “Finish your breakfast, buddy, and then you can show Harper around. But don’t spend too long in the arcade room—you have to do your school work.”

  “Okay, Dad,” Charlie signs.

  Jason continues. “Harper’s your tutor now. I want you to be very respectful, and listen to what she says. Harper’s the boss, okay?”

  Jason tosses a wink my way, and then moves swiftly around the edge of the counter. He lifts a coffee cup, drains the last sip, and then places the mug in the sink.

  He checks his watch—a gesture I’m well familiar with by now. This man seems to have his schedule finely tuned.

  Before he can hustle out to work, Charlie jumps off of his stool and runs toward him. So much for finishing his cereal! Charlie seems too excited to sit still. He barrels into his dad’s body and hugs him around the waist. Then, he tugs on Jason’s sleeve, and signs, “Dad, didn’t you say the new tutor was going to live with us? Where is Harper’s room? I can show her.”

  Jason glances over at me, and I pretend to be fascinated by the sleek, silver LED lights that dot the kitchen’s perimeter. I don’t want Jason to know how interested I am in his answer. But when I see, from the corner of my eye, that he’s delivering a response, my eyes swivel in his direction.

  “I did say that, but that was before I knew that your new tutor was going to be Harper. I think Harper will have more fun living in the city than here with your boring old dad.”

  “But what about me? I’m not boring!” Charlie protests.

  Jason laughs, and ruffles Charlie’s hair. “Not at all, champ,” he signs. Again, Jason looks over at me, and this time I can’t look away fast enough. “Go finish your breakfast,” Jason signs. Charlie scampers back to his seat.

  Jason speaks as he lifts a jacket off of one of the bar stools, where it was draped, and puts it on. “I told Charlie that his new private tutor might move into the house. That’s the arrangement that a few of his friends have, and the parents say that it works well. Cuts down on expenses, and the commute—very convenient for everyone.”

  I nod. Jason’s heading toward me, on his way to the kitchen’s exit. I feel myself blushing just at the thought of living with him.

  “But then you accepted the position—which I’m very happy about—and I thought… Well, I thought it would be better if you had your own place.”

  As he nears me, a rush of attraction fills me from head to toe. I feel lightheaded until he passes by.

  “You’re young,” he says. “You’ll have more fun in the city than stuck out here in Queens.”

  I beg to differ!

  “I don’t know about that,” I say playfully. Whoops! There I go, flirting again. Neither of us quite know where to go from there, and I feel that simmering chemistry continue as he laughs.

  “Well, hopefully you’re finding the apartment comfortable?”

  “It’s perfect,” say. “No complaints.”

  “Good. Well, Charlie will show you the ropes! Make note of anything that you need that you don’t find in the classroom and I’ll have one of my assistants place an order. Our housekeeper is here, and Charlie’s nanny will be in and out during the day. I’ve asked her to run a few errands for me. Oh, and of course, the chef will be preparing meals…and, what else? I always have my phone on me in case of emergencies.” He pats his pocket.

  A few minutes later, I hear the front door slam, and I know that Jason’s gone for the day. Charlie slurps up the rest of his puffed-rice cereal, and soon he’s running through the mansion, taking me on a tour that I’m sure, in his six-year-old mind, is the most organized, informative tour possible.

  To me, it feels like I’m traveling through a maze of rooms learning random facts, like “This is where I lost my tooth when I was five and three quarters,” all in no apparent order. I have to laugh to myself.

  We have a quiet moment before I start up the lessons for the day. Charlie gathering his books, and I’m sitting at the table we’ll be working at, waiting for him.

  I rest my head in my hands, thinking about the morning so far.

  Mostly, my mind wanders toward Jason, and I find myself analyzing the words he said.

  What did he mean that I’ll have more fun in the city? Does he think I want to be going out to bars, or dancing at clubs? Does he think that I’m that kind of girl? Or maybe he thinks I’ll want to strike up friendships, and relationships, and go on wild adventures with a pack of other twenty-somethings.

  Or does he think that it would be too tempting if I was here? For both of us?

  The thought sends a shiver up my spine.

  He’d be right, of course. It would be nearly impossible to keep things on the up and up if I was living here…at least for me. I’ve been good at keeping at least some kind of a guard up so far, but I’d be bound to slip up.

  No matter how much I’d like to live here, it’s best that I don’t. Acting on my attraction would be irresponsible, now that Jason’s my boss. If he doesn’t feel the same way that I do, my job would be on the line. It’s for the best.

  I let out a long sigh.

  Charlie slides into his seat, a pile of books in hands. He plops them down onto the table, and they form a tower that I almost can’t see past.

  “All right,” I sign. “Let’s get started!”

  Chapter 12

  Jason

  I didn’t expect to be getting home so late. It’s already seven, and I wonder if Harper’s left for the evening.

  I hope not.

  I want to see her. I’ve wanted to see more of her ever since we parted at Zurich Airport. Why have I been cutting all of our interactions so short? As the CEO, I have control over my schedule. I don’t always have to rush off, away from her.

  Yet, I have been.

  I’m scared, I think as I walk up my front steps.

  I’m scared of how I feel, when she looks at me through those long lashes. Her blue-green eyes always seem to hold more than she’s letting on. I can tell that she’s a thoughtful person, and I’d love to talk to her more—one of those long, intimate conversations just like we had on our last night in Switzerland. But I always seem to pull away from her.

  The house is quiet. Walking through the entryway, I listen for sounds. Charlie loves to play basketball in the gym, and I pause by the east wing to see if I can hear the reverberating thud of a ball.

  Nothing.

  I keep walking.

  Of course, I know why I keep running from Harper. It’s because I haven’t felt this way about anyone since my late wife.

  It scares the crap out of me.

  Well, perhaps I’ve fixed the problem. By inviting Harper to be Charlie’s tutor, I’ve won on several fronts. I’ve secured a position for her in Charlie’s life, so that he can benefit from her warmth and nurturing nature. I’ll get to see her often, but she’ll be on the periphery of my life. I’ll get to see her and talk to her, but all from a safe distance.

  That’s going to have to be enough.

  I enter the living room and right away I know why the house is so quiet. There’s Charlie, lying conked out on the couch. And there, at the opposite end of the couch, is Harper. She’s almost in a seated position, though her head is curved to the side against one of the couch’s many throw pillows.

  Captivated by the sight of her, I find myself unable to tear my eyes away.

  She looks adorable. Her checks are rosy as if she’s been outside all day, her lips are parted, and they look soft and…kissable.

  Damn it. No matter what my good intentions with this woman are, I can’t deny the fact that a part of me wants to lie down on the couch next to her and wake her up with a kiss.