I stood in the hallway with Harlow in my arms, watching Sabrina disappear around the corner like she'd never been there at all. Great. Somehow I was now alone, carrying a sleeping Valentine sister who weighed about as much as a basket of laundry.
"Harlow," I whispered, giving her a small jostle as I walked. "Wake up."
She mumbled something and burrowed her face deeper into my neck. Her breath tickled my skin, warm and soft.
God, this was a terrible idea. If someone saw me like this—an employee carrying his sleeping teenage employer through the mansion at night—I'd be fired instantly. Or possibly shot. Did billionaires keep snipers on retainer? Probably.
Finding Harlow's room wasn't difficult. The door at the end of the hall was painted pale pink and covered with stickers of anime characters, K-pop idols, and sparkly hearts. Very subtle.
