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Chapter 138: No Apron?
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2026-07-26 14:00:36“You can leave your things in the hallway,” Oliver said, gesturing toward the entryway. “Would you like something to drink while you wait? I have a decent white wine, or I can make you some tea if you are still in ‘work mode’.” “Tea sounds lovely,” Harper said moving to sit on a bar chair by the island. She leaned on the counter with her elbows. “I am a little disappointed you are not wearing an apron or something.” Her tone was play
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“It is nothing like that,” Harper said standing up, walking over to the fridge to place the Parmesan cheese inside. “I am waiting for an email from one of those organisations about collaboration.” She walked over to her purse and got her phone out. “Love self-esteem got back to me, they said they only collaborate with companies advertising feminine hygiene products and they are not currently interested in the fashion industry.” Oliver lets out a long, weary sigh, the sound of a man who has just been pulled back from the brink of a very pleasant evening into the mundane realities of corporate logistics. He turned back to the stone, picking up the spoon to give the risotto one final, vigorous stir. “Love Self Esteem,” he repeats, his voice flat and utterly unimpressed by the name. “The branding is as predictable as the rejection. They are looking for a specific demographic niche, and fashion is too... volatile for them.”
Paperwork and Hearthbeats Chapter 139: Parmesan Cheese
Oliver leans over her slightly to reach the cheese, his body creating a small, warm enclosure between her and the counter. “You are being incredibly disruptive to my cooking process,” he says, his voice low and dangerously calm. “I am, aren’t I?” Harper said playfully. “You want me to stop?” he stops mid-motion, the grater held poised over the plate. He turns his head toward her, his face only inches from hers. The kitchen is filled with the savoury, heavy scent of the risotto and the quiet hiss of the stove, but is focus is entirely centred on her. He does not answer immediately. His blue eyes search hers, dark and unreadable, as he weighs the logical choice against the impulse currently screaming in his mind. “If I were a rational man,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, vibrating hum that she can feel in her own chest. “I would tell you to focus on the cheese and let me finish this meal without burning the house down.
Paperwork and Hearthbeats Chapter 138: No Apron?
“You can leave your things in the hallway,” Oliver said, gesturing toward the entryway. “Would you like something to drink while you wait? I have a decent white wine, or I can make you some tea if you are still in ‘work mode’.” “Tea sounds lovely,” Harper said moving to sit on a bar chair by the island. She leaned on the counter with her elbows. “I am a little disappointed you are not wearing an apron or something.” Her tone was playful and she had a smirk on her face as she recalled Knox’s drawing. He pauses, a wooden spook halfway to the pot. He turns to look at her, meeting that smirk with a deadpan expression that does not quite hide the glint of amusement in his blue eyes. “An apron?” he repeats, as if the very concept is beneath him. “I am making risotto, Harper, no deep-frying chicken. I think I can manage to keep my clothes clean.” He moves toward the kettle, his movements fluid and eff
Paperwork and Hearthbeats Chapter 137: Modelling Logistics
Knox’s parrot green eyes were darting around, already envisioning the catastrophe. “They will trip! They will sneeze! They will stare at the camera like it is some terrifying beast crawled up frae the bottom o' the North Sea!” he pointed a finger at her, his expression one of mock horror. “Can’t we get someone to help out?” Harped asked, already calculating options. “A modelling coach or something?”Knox stopped dead in his tracks, his finger still pointing at her. He held the pose for a moment, looking like a statue of a man experiencing a sudden, profound existential crisis. Then, his shoulders slumped, and he let out a long, whistling sigh. “A coach,” he muttered, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. “A professional... poser. Somebody tae come in an' teach them how tae walk without lookin' like they're marchin' aff tae war.” He slumped back into his chair, spinning it once around before facing her.
Paperwork and Hearthbeats Chapter 136: Snoring???
Knox began pacing the small space behind his desk, his movement jerky and caffeinated. He was gesturing wildly with his hands, carving shapes in the air as if he were trying to sculpt the very concept of Oliver’s laughter. “Ach, Harper, if he is laughin', ye're in danger. No' physical danger—guidness, naw—but emotional peril! Ye're fallin' for the most dangerous kind o' man... the one who's secretly interestin'!” he stopped abruptly, pointing a finger at her with a sudden, piercing look of intensity. “Haud on a wee minute. If he's cookin'... an' he's laughin'... an' he is smilin'...” Harper interrupts him before he can finish. “Will you stop,” she said playfully. “He is just am man, he has even snored on occasion.” Knox let out a sound that was halfway between a gasp and a choke, clutching his throat as if he had been physically struck.Knox stumbled back a step, his parrot green eyes bulging. “He snores?
Paperwork and Hearthbeats Chapter 135: Smiling?!
Knox leaned back so abruptly his chair screeched against the floor, a sound that felt deafening in the sudden tension. “Oliver Williams?” he hissed, his voice strangled, high-pitched rasp. “The CEO?!” his voice rose to a pitch that could likely shatter fine crystal. He scrambled to his feet, nearly knocking over a mannequin draped in unfinished muslin. He looked around frantically, his face turning a shade of pale that even his finest foundation could not hide. "Oliver Williams? The man wi' the personality o' a damp bit o' cardboard? The man who thinks 'fun' is an unnecessary line item in the quarterly budget?" he leaned over the desk, his eyes darting wildly. "An' he's cookin'? For you? In his ain hoose? Is he... does he even ken how tae work a cooker, or is he gaun tae serve ye somethin' painfully efficient an' nutritionally balanced, like steamed celery an' lukewarm water?"Knox grabbed a handful of fabric swatches, clutching them to his chest as if
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