Chapter 3Reshone tapped Harris’s knee. “What’s on your mind? You look a little gloomy tonight.”
They sat side by side on Harris’s black leather couch, and leaning back on the seat, Harris turned his face to hers. “I don’t know…just tired, I guess. Maybe a bit worn out or something.”
She sipped her green tea. “Okay. Talk to me.” They’d had dinner together again tonight, and Reshone had made her amazing jerk chicken. “Are you scared? Is that it?”
He was excited, maybe. But scared? No.
“I just want everything to go exactly right.” Harris sat up and looked around at his home. Every item in here had been handpicked to fit a certain persona. Those Guerlain flasks he’d purchased through the years spoke of his passion for perfume. Every piece of furniture he’d carefully chosen was meant to sho
