“Harper texted?” Amanda asked predictably. “Can you ask her if she’ll come help me get ready for the dance? I want her to do my eyeliner just like hers.”
I put my phone back on the counter. “No, I’m not asking Harper to come out to Connecticut to help you get ready. She’s not your personal stylist.”
“She’s too busy attending to someone else’s needs in this family, isn’t she?” Scarlett joked and I shot her a dirty look.
“What?” Amanda asked.
“Let’s talk about your dating life, shall we, Scarlett?” I asked.
She tilted her head. “Oh, so you admit Harper’s part of your dating life then?”
Shit. I was usually better at avoiding Scarlett’s interrogations. I turned toward the refrigerator. “Have you eaten?” I asked Amanda, trying to ignore my sister.
“Tell me more about Harper, Amanda.”
Inwardly I groaned.
“I want to be just like her when I’m older. You’ve seen her, right?” Amanda babbled on about how great Harper was, how wise she was about boys and what a great fashion sense she had. It sounded like Amanda’d known her for years rather than only spent time with her twice.
“So, dinner?” I asked, hoping to get them to change the subject.
“Can I have the cold lasagna in there?” Amanda asked, gesturing to the fridge.
Sounded like a great idea. Marion had even left a salad, too.
“Harper’s great, isn’t she?” Amanda asked.
I glanced at my sister, who held my gaze and asked Amanda, “Do you think she likes your dad?”
“Scarlett,” I warned.
“Does she have a boyfriend?” Scarlett asked, which was a question I had a little more interest in. Had Harper talked to Amanda about anyone?
“No, she says she’s too focused on work,” Amanda replied. “When I talked to her, she pretty much agreed boys were douchebags who should be avoided at all costs.”
I couldn’t hold back a chuckle, which won me a suspicious glance from my sister. “She’s a very sensible woman.”
I put the salad on the counter. “Can you get plates?” I asked Amanda. She hopped off her stool and began to set things out as I dished up the lasagna.
“You know we just want you to be happy,” my sister said, lowering her voice. “And from what I can remember, Harper is beautiful.” She clinked her glass against mine before taking another sip. “Amanda clearly likes her.”
I handed her a plate of food, pretending I wasn’t listening.
“Have you thought about asking her out?”
Ignoring Scarlett, I spooned pasta onto mine and Amanda’s plates, then placed the dish back in the refrigerator. My sister bugged me about getting a girlfriend almost as much as Amanda did, but why were they fixating on Harper? That was my job. When I turned back to the counter, Amanda and Scarlett were both staring at me as if waiting for me to say something.
“What?” I asked, grabbing the seat next to them and taking a forkful of food.
“Have you thought about asking Harper out on a date, Dad?” Amanda asked, as if I were the most ludicrous person she’d ever had to deal with.
I swallowed and put some salad on my plate. “What is with you two? I’ve told you, Harper works for me. What is your obsession with her?”
“I like her.” Amanda shrugged.
Scarlett grinned. “And that should be reason enough. Why don’t you take her to dinner? What could one evening hurt?”
Little did they know trying to keep time spent with Harper limited to just one evening would be impossible. Whatever boundaries I set with her got torn down and overrun. We’d never really been in Vegas. Well, I hadn’t managed it anyway. Even here, with my sister and daughter, a situation that had only ever been completely consuming, I was wondering what Harper was doing, who she was spending time with. Did she feel the same? And if she did, then what? Would she come out here to Connecticut? Meet my family?
Did I want her to?
“You think I should date, huh?” I asked. Scarlett was right; it was good that Amanda seemed to like Harper. If my daughter was open to it, maybe I should ask Harper out. Officially.
Amanda tapped on my head with her fist. “Come on, Dad, duh. I’ve only been saying this my whole life.”
“Okay,” I said.
“What does okay mean?” Amanda said.
“It means please don’t speak with your mouth full,” I said, glaring at my daughter.
She giggled and swallowed. “Sorry. But what does ‘okay’ mean?”
“It means, okay, I’ll think about asking her out.” The situation with Harper felt like a jigsaw puzzle with too many pieces. Harper working for me complicated things, and her father was the founder of JD Stanley. We also lived in the same building. I’d never really dated before—I was bound to fuck things up. There were a lot of downsides. One of Scarlett’s friends would probably be less complicated to date. There would be fewer aftershocks if it didn’t work out.