Chapter 2
I hired Grace a month ago, right after I scheduled my surgery date.
Melissa had volunteered to cover for me during my medical leave, but I declined her offer.
I had my own agenda.
Four years ago, fresh out of college, fate pushed me into Reed Harlow’s orbit. Back then, he’d just broken away from his family’s company, Harlow Industries, to start his own venture.
In just four years, he’d turned it into an industry leader.
I’ve ridden his coattails to success, but that comes with its own problems. Everyone at the company treats me with respect and calls me ‘Ms. Palmer,‘ but only because I’m Reed’s right hand. The moment I’m not by his side, I know that respect would vanish.
The whispers of doubt have never stopped. Even in Reed’s mind, I’m probably just someone who could be replaced at any moment.
Only by leaving him could I prove that I’ve kept my position for so long because of my abilities, not his favor.
Plus, I’d heard the rumors from day one. They said he’d decided to hire me after just one glance, solely because I resembled his ex who now lived in Paris–his “one that got away.”
I didn’t really believe it at first.
Until the day Grace came for her interview. Reed looked up, and for a split second, something flickered in his eyes–recognition, almost. Like he’d seen a ghost.
That’s when I started believing the rumors were true.
Only this time, when people joked about it, they didn’t mention “the perfect
match” anymore.
“Grace looks a bit like Olivia, doesn’t she?”
“Seems Mr. Harlow has a type.”
Late at night, alone, I stared at a photo on my phone, and everything became clear.
Grace didn’t resemble me–she looked even more like his ex than I did.
The photo was a snapshot of a small picture I’d found. A year ago, a cleaning lady had come to me with a photograph she’d found in Reed’s trash.
“Ms. Palmer, Mr. Harlow threw this away. Should I keep it?”
“I’ll take it and ask him.”
The photo showed Reed with a boyish smile, around seventeen or eighteen. Beside him was a beautiful young woman with a sweet smile. They stood together like the prom king and queen–both radiating the same air of privilege, a picture–perfect match.
Something possessed me to secretly snap a picture of it with my phone before returning it.
When I placed the photo on Reed’s desk, he glanced at it. His hand froze in midair before he pulled it back.
“I threw it away for a reason,” he said flatly. “She’s married now.”
I silently cursed my meddling.
“I can shred it for you–safer that way.”
“No, just give it to me.”
As my fingers touched the photo, his hand came down almost simultaneously, covering the back of my hand. When he looked up, I pulled away, my throat
suddenly tight.
“Yes, Mr. Harlow.”
That electric warmth from his touch replayed in my mind over and over. Reed had surely forgotten it by now.
