He's a cynic. She's a romantic. One deal, one wedding, and one gigantic secret stand between them.
**
Harper Lane wants to believe in true love. After her parents split, she began photographing evidence of it. Couples holding hands. Valentine's Day...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The living room was occupied.
Lawson stood in the doorway, blinking. Yellow rubber gloves. Buckets of soapy water. A hoover covered in a fine layer of dust (or maybe soot — it was difficult to tell, in their flat). And there was Griffin, down on his hands-and-knees, scrubbing the floor with single-minded determination.
Lawson cleared his throat. "What are you doing?"
"I'm cleaning," Griffin said.
"Cleaning?"
Griffin looked up in surprise. "Should I not be cleaning?"
He sounded uncertain, as if Lawson might be genuinely offended that he was making their flat hospitable again. An invisible cloud of bleach hung in the air, and Lawson did his best not to cough as he walked into the kitchen. No need to discourage Griffin from any future cleaning. This was an early Christmas miracle.
"Yes," Lawson said. "I mean, no. It's just..." He surveyed the fridge shelves soaking in the sink. "When will you be done?"
"Soon," Griffin said.
"When?"
Griffin tilted his head. "Wednesday?"
Lawson's horror must have shown on his face because Griffin frowned, rising. He crossed to the bookshelf, picking out a book. It took Lawson a moment to place it: Diana's Sunday Times bestseller, How to Clean (And Change Your Life). She'd given it to them for Christmas two years ago. It had sat on their shelf ever since, collecting dust.
Griffin waggled the book. "Do you know there's something called tile grout?"
"I'm familiar with the concept."
Griffin shook his head, leafing through the book. "You have to pour cleaning stuff on it and then scrub it off with a toothbrush. Mad."
Lawson hid a smile. This was typical Griffin; he got obsessed with projects. Lego-building. Poker. Mapping the best pubs in Clapham. At Wilder Academy, Griffin had even drawn up an Excel spreadsheet to track the best time to shower and still get hot water. It was no surprise that he would get obsessed with cleaning the kitchen and living room, too.
Then Lawson remembered why he needed the living room in the first place, and his amusement evaporated.
Ah. Shit.
"Right." Lawson cleared his throat. "I need to see Harper."
Griffin flipped a page. "You see her all the time."
"No, I..." Lawson twisted his signet ring. Realized what he was doing. Dropped his hand. "I need to speak with her. And I can't do it with you banging about in the kitchen."
"Oh." Griffin shrugged. "Go into your room, then."
