At 18, being filthy rich was a wonderful thing. In my life, I'd been fortunate to travel the world, and indulge in any and every hobby, no matter how expensive. Essentially, I lived footloose and fancy free.
But over the last year, since having to deal with the stalker and watching my brother marry my best friend, and have a baby, I'd been feeling uneasy. My life didn't seem to have focus or meaning.
I kept that news to myself, because I knew my brother would try to put me to work in the family business. He was always harping on me about having a sense of purpose and direction. I wasn't about to tell him he was right and have him gloat about it.
"All right, just one more Harper. I want you to continue reclining, but turn so that you're facing the couch and your back toward me."
I did as he said, trying not to roll my eyes that he was going to get shots of my ass, which was clearly outlined in the satiny dark blue dress I wore.
"Okay, now I want you to turn your head, keeping your body facing the back of the couch. Dina, adjust her hair."
I contorted into the position he wanted, wondering why some of the sexiest poses required the most flexibility.
The camera went off and finally, Miles said, "All right, that's a wrap. You're gorgeous as always, Harper."
I immediately stood up, reaching my arms over my head to stretch out all the kinks in my body.
"That was outstanding, Harper. Your image is going to make this company bigger than Bran's." Anne grinned from across the room. Next to her, my brother, Bran, stood holding their brand-new baby girl, Brandie.
To be honest, I wasn't sold on the name, but I guess it was their answer to naming their child after him.
Another truth was that I had a tough time seeing Bran as a father. Oh sure, he had the strict bossy part down, but the tenderness and caring that he showed toward the baby and Anne surprised me.
Over the last few years, my relationship with Bran slowly grew strained as he pushed me into having more direction in my life and I resisted.
The last six months or so had been better, but I still wasn't sure I could trust him to stay out of my business.
"Can I see some of the shots?" I asked Miles.
I went to stand with him, and he tilted the camera as he scrolled through the shots he'd taken. Of course, I couldn't see them all because there were hundreds. But I saw enough to know that Anne was right. She was going to sell a lot of jewelry and be very successful, although it was unlikely that she'd make more than Bran. There weren't many people in the world that were as rich as my brother.
"They look great as always, Miles," I said.
"You make my job easier. Really, if you rethink coming into modeling, I'm going to Milan next week. I know they'd die to have you."
"It could be fun," Bran said as he handed the baby over to Anne and strode toward me and Miles. I understood his comment to mean that I needed to get a life. Maybe not a job, but I needed to dedicate myself to something.
Because it annoyed me when he did that, I said, "No. I enjoy living the life of leisure." I left them, heading toward the staging area. I sat in the makeup chair and grabbed makeup remover tissues to begin removing the piles of shadows, liner, blush, and foundation off my face.
Bran followed me. "Thank you so much for doing this. Anne is giddy with excitement over this new campaign."
I looked at him through the mirror, arching a brow. "Don't thank me. I'm doing this for Anne, not you."
He frowned, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Why are you pissed at me now? I haven't done anything."
"It's only a matter of time. This is a preemptive being annoyed at you."
He rolled his eyes. "Just when I think we've gotten beyond everything that happened last year, you decide you don't want to let it go."
He was right that I was more irritable these days. He was wrong in thinking it was because I couldn't let go of last year. Sure, I was still guarded around him and his motives, but my agitation in life had more to do with feeling unsettled.
I was trying to figure out what I needed to do, but answers eluded me. I thought a change of scenery might help, so I was in search of a new home. I kept thinking if I could find the perfect house away from the hustle and bustle of the city, I'd have time to think and figure out my life.
But finding just the right home was proving to be more difficult than I'd expected. It had been over a year since I started the search. I was pretty sure my realtor was getting ready to fire me.
"Is there something that you want?" I asked, not hiding the irritation I felt at life in general.
He blew out in the next exasperated breath. ""I need a favor. Kind of like back in the olden days."