Page 49 of One Night in Paris

I’d honestly avoided going to her apartment. Ever since she’d moved in a couple of years ago, I’d only visited her a time or two. It wasn’t that I didn’t love spending time with her, but Kylee was so successful, it made me jealous to see everything she had that I didn’t have. Not to mention I never had time to visit her before I came to work for Logan.

I even had money to take a cab from the office to her building. Handing the driver his fare, plus a tip, I hopped out and headed inside.

A kind doorman greeted me, asking me who I was there to see. I gave him Kylee’s name and my own, and he said, “Oh, yes. She’s expecting you, Miss Reynolds. Please, go right on up.”

“Thank you, sir.” I headed to the elevator and pushed the button for the sixth floor, bopping my head along to the musicthat was playing, even though it was so synthesized, it was hardly recognizable.

Not that I was in a good mood. After Logan had told Dave to go fuck himself, Dave had replied that Logan had better be careful who he talked to like that because Dave wasn’t the kind of guy one messed around with. Logan had hung up the phone, and I could see in his eyes he felt apologetic toward me that this had happened.

It wasn’t Logan’s fault, though. How could I blame him for not wanting to give in to the demand of bullies? And working on a project with these people would be absolute torture for everyone on our team. No, Logan had made the right decision. Of that, I was certain.

I was just terrified of the consequences.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened with a ding. Kylee’s apartment was right around the corner, so I headed straight there, giving the door a knock. She knew I was coming and was already home. Sometimes, Kylee got to work from home, which she enjoyed. I, on the other hand, loved working in the office. For a few reasons—my hot boss being the main one.

Kylee threw the door open. “Hey, girl!” She stepped out into the hall and wrapped her arms around me. “How are you?”

“Good,” I told her, hugging her back. I hadn’t seen her since we went to the amusement park with Logan and Trevor, but we’d talked. Kylee wasn’t sure what to think about Trevor, but they’d had fun together. I had to wonder if there was a chance she might be interested in more.

Taking a quick look around, I noted some changes Kylee had made. She had new furniture—white leather with matching end tables and a massive coffee table that had plenty of storage. I could see into the kitchen, which was impeccably clean as always. Her double oven had always been impressive to me, aswas her pot filler. This place was modern with a lot of perks and pluses a house as old as my mother’s would never have.

The view out the window was stunning. Lots of older buildings that had been converted to apartments dotted the cityscape. The windows were double-paned, so it was hard to hear anything from outside.

“Want a drink?” Kylee asked me. “Wine cooler? Or wine?” She giggled, knowing I was there because I’d had a rough day and needed to chill—and dish to someone about what had happened.

“Wine would be awesome, thank you.” There were some bonuses to not having a car.

I sat down on the couch, sinking into the plush fabric, while Kylee got us each a glass of wine and then settled down across from me. “Okay, girl. Spill the tea. What’s going on in Loganland?”

A chuckle escaped my lips despite my irritation at the situation. “Well, something ridiculous has happened, and I need to talk it through with you.”

“Go on!” Kylee winked at me and took a sip of her drink.

Inhaling deeply, I paused for a second before I began to tell her the situation. Kylee listened quietly, letting me finish while her eyes widened with each word. I told her about our business trip, our sightseeing excursion, and then what we’d done in the hotel—without too much detail. Then, I told her about Dave’s phone call, what Logan and I had discussed, and how we’d decided to stand up to that bully.

When I’d finished, Kylee said, “I think you’re doing the right thing, Harper. But this is gonna be tough. I’ve heard about situations like this. You know that Logan’s kind of a big deal, right?”

I didn’t keep up with pop culture or social media much. Before I’d seen that article in the newspaper, I had no idea thatLogan was considered an eligible bachelor. Now, I wasn’t sure what to think about any of it. After all, he was just Logan to me. “What kind of ramifications do you think it’s going to have, Kylee?”

“I mean, people will say awful things, Harper. It doesn’t matter if they are true or not—and obviously most of them won’t be. I don’t just mean about what you’re allegedly doing with Logan either, sweetie.”

Listening to her words, I considered what she was getting at for a second, but I wasn’t sure. “What else could they possibly say?” I asked her.

She cleared her throat. “Uhm, the same kind of shitty comments people on social media always say. Personal things. Things that are absolutely false, but they don’t care because they’re keyboard warriors or just asshats to begin with.”

Kylee was doing her best to explain what she meant to me, but I really wasn’t on any of those apps enough to know much about how any of them worked. I’d watched my fair share of funny cat videos, but that was about it. And who would dare say something mean about a kitty? “What kinds of things do you think they’ll say?”

“Do you want specifics?” she asked, taking another drink of her wine so that it was almost gone.

Nodding, I said, “Yeah, spell it out for me.”

Sighing, Kylee shrugged. “I doubt I can think of anything that mean to say about you, even when I know I’m supposed to be lying just to be mean, but things like, ‘That girl’s boobs are too big anyway!’ while someone else will say, ‘Damn, that girl’s got small breasts!’ Someone will say, ‘I don’t know why he’s going out with her when she’s not even pretty,’ and someone else will say, ‘She’s only so beautiful because she’s using his money for plastic surgery.’ I’m just saying, my friend, people can be unbelievably rude and ruthless.”

Taking that all in, I tried to imagine how I would feel if people were typing things like that about me all over the Internet. It wouldn’t feel nice, I was sure. But I rarely even opened my phone to sites like that, so how would I know? And if I didn’t know, it couldn’t hurt me, right?

There was my mom to consider. But she didn’t look at that sort of stuff either. If we were lucky, Mom wouldn’t even know about any of this. Telling her about it would be up to me. I’d have to decide whether or not she needed to know and use my best judgment when I disclosed it.

None of this really mattered now anyway. I’d already told Logan that he shouldn’t work with Dave. What else could we do? If he had pictures, we wouldn’t be able to get them back. Dave would do whatever the hell he wanted to with them now that we’d turned him down.