Harper stood at her parents' doorstep, exhaustion etched across her face. She tucked the exposed bandages on her injured hand deeper into her sleeve, making sure nothing looked suspicious before finally knocking.

“Who’s there?” her mother called from inside.

When Mrs. Coulson opened the door and saw Harper, her jaw dropped. “Harper? You actually came back? I thought you were…”

Mr. Coulson jumped up from his recliner and hurried to the door. He grabbed Harper’s suitcase while Mrs. Coulson linked arms with her daughter, practically dragging her inside.

“So you actually came home. What happened with Dylan?”

“Mom,” Harper cut in quickly, “I was in a car accident. I have amnesia; I don’t remember anything about him.”

Hearing about the accident, her mother immediately started to inspect her for injuries. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you call us? We should get you to Dr. Peterson right away—”

Harper deftly evaded her, not wanting her to discover the burns. “I’m totally fine now, seriously. The doctors in New York…” She took a deep breath. “About that arranged marriage you mentioned—I know I’ve been difficult about it. I’m ready to meet him now.”

Her parents exchanged glances before bursting into laughter. Mrs. Coulson pulled Harper into a gentle hug. “Honey, there’s no arranged marriage. We completely made that up,” she admitted. “We were desperate to get you away from that Rodriguez guy. We could see how miserable you were.” Her father joined the hug. “You can date whoever you want—just not that emotionally constipated trust-fund kid who’s been stringing you along for years. You deserve someone who actually shows up for you.”

Hearing her parents’ confession, Harper’s eyes welled with tears as she hugged them tighter. “I should have listened to you guys all along. Maybe this memory loss is the universe hitting the reset button. I’m done with that chapter of my life.”

Over the next couple of days, Harper enjoyed being home, ready for a fresh start. She sent out several job applications and quickly received an interview invitation from Scott Industries.

“Mom, heading out for that interview!” Harper called toward the kitchen while slipping on her ankle boots.

Her mother poked her head out, spatula in hand. “Knock ‘em dead, sweetie!”

Standing outside the Scott Industries building downtown, Harper realized she was early and decided to grab coffee at the trendy café across the street.

She reached for her drink, accidentally brushing against another customer’s hand.

“Sorry about that,” she said, quickly withdrawing and double-checking her receipt. It definitely said 627.

Looking up in confusion, she found herself staring into a pair of striking blue eyes.

The man smiled, holding up his cup. “Mine’s 126. They’re a digit off.”

“My bad,” he said. “Mixed up the orders. This one’s yours.”

Harper accepted the coffee with a polite smile. “No worries.”

“I’m Tyler Scott,” the man said, extending his hand. “I work at Scott Industries. Judging by the portfolio under your arm, we might be colleagues soon.”

Harper shook his hand, noting his firm grip. “Harper Coulson. Nice to meet you.”

Tyler’s expression flickered with recognition before returning to neutral. “Good luck today. The design team is pretty chill,” he said before heading toward the exit.

Neither expected their next encounter to come so quickly. When Harper walked into the conference room for her interview, she nearly dropped her portfolio seeing Tyler sitting at the center of the interview panel. She momentarily blanked on her prepared introduction.

Tyler, absorbed in his phone, looked up when he noticed the silence, equally surprised to see her.

“Good morning, everyone,” Harper recovered smoothly. “I’m Harper Coulson, with a BA from RISD and formerly a senior designer at Rodriguez Group in New York.”

The interview went brilliantly, and they quickly settled on a start date.

As Harper was gathering her materials to leave, Tyler caught up with her in the hallway. “Small world, huh? I’m actually the Executive Creative Director here.”

“Since we’re going to be working together, how about grabbing dinner? There’s an amazing place around the corner.”

Tyler’s eagerness caught Harper off guard. “Thanks, Mr. Scott, but I actually have plans tonight.”

“With your boyfriend?” Tyler asked, then immediately looked like he regretted the question.

Though confused by his interest, Harper answered simply, “No, not with a boyfriend.”

Tyler visibly relaxed at her response, a subtle smile playing on his lips. No boyfriend was definitely promising news.