Meet Me at the Starlight

Chapter 10

HARLOW

The package on the porch came from Buckhead, Atlanta. Mom. Harlow plopped the box on the kitchen table, along with bags from Lloyd’s Hardware, Weldon’s Five & Dime, the Haberdashery, and Biggs Market.

While the beach house was beautifully decorated and stocked with the best cookware, cutlery, flatware, dishes, and linens, it lacked the real essentials. Band-Aids, Scotch tape, dish soap, laundry detergent, scissors, bottle and can openers, bathroom soap ... the list was long.

She’d been here over a week, and it was time to move in. She wore her beach hat, without the price tag now, hoping no one would recognize her. Especially Matt Knight. Three days had passed since their meet-cute at Tony’s. Did he say how long he was in town? If she was lucky, he’d been called back to Hollywood.

Removing her hat, she fished her new scissors from the hardware bag and cut open Mom’s package. Did she even want to know what was inside? The phone rang, giving her a momentary reprieve.

“Did you get my package?”

“Hello to you too, Mom. I’m opening it now.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Do you like them? I talked to Jane Fonda’s people, and they recommended—”

“Mom, do not talk to people about me.”

Of all Mom’s antics, this one bugged her the most. She had a ridiculous habit of sharing Harlow’s business with everyone. Nothing was sacred.

“Why not? You’re my daughter, and you need help.”

“I do not need help.” Oh, she needed help.

“I thought new workout clothes would inspire you. I bought one size too small and—”

“You don’t know my size, Mom.”

“I have an eye for these things.” True. She did. “The leotards will be tight at first, but when you lose ten pounds or so, they’ll be comfortable. Then I’ll get the next size down. I wish I could see you. The blue will be stunning.”

Harlow cradled the receiver and sliced open the box with the edge of the scissors. Sure enough, it was packed with blue spandex.

“They’re really nice, Mom. Thank you.”

“Anything for my girl. How’s it going?”

“How’s what going?”

“Harlow—”

“It’s going.”

And it was. During the day, she faithfully ate salads and grilled chicken, even though she yearned to work her way through the menu at the Blue Plate Diner. But at night, when the small town of 6,981 settled down, Harlow’s pulse thumped in her ears. If only she had the sounds of the city or the anticipation of Jinx’s key in the door to drown out her thoughts.

Sea Blue Beach was quiet. And she was alone. A deadly combination for a girl trying to forget her heartbreak and move on.

The worst part was she’d convinced herself the house on Sea Blue Way had no memories of Xander. But it did.

Xander guiding her down the sidewalk for a surprise, his broad hands over her eyes.

Bubbling up with tears when she saw the house for the first time.

The scent of Xander’s skin as he wrapped her in his arms and painted an idyllic picture of their life at 321 Sea Blue Way.

His kiss as he carried her over the threshold.

The remodel debate. Laughing at their very different tastes. She was minimalistic but elegant. Xander was maximalist and gaudy. He’d spent too many summers at his grandmother’s Newport cottage—a mansion filled with decades of inherited heirlooms. The giant chandelier now hanging from the vaulted ceiling was exhibit A. Seriously, if it fell for any reason, she’d have to redo half the downstairs.

She’d forgotten those moments until she began living here, and it made her wound fresh again.

Harlow put away her purchases, then carried the Jane Fonda–approved workout clothes upstairs, where she folded them neatly into her dresser drawer.

Harlow Hayes had already picked out an exercise getup—a pair of old sweats she’d cut into jogging shorts, with an oversized T-shirt from Jinx’s ex-boyfriend. She cut the collar and sleeves Flashdance style and planned to start jogging in the morning. Which morning remained to be seen.

Maybe if she dressed for exercise, she’d actually exercise. Harlow exchanged her sundress for the sweats and T-shirt, then tied on her new Adidas. Back in the kitchen, she retrieved the salad she’d been munching on for two days—in exchange for eating a whole Tony’s pizza Monday night and going to the Blue Plate yesterday. One of these days, she was going to weigh herself on the big green scale at Biggs. Promise.

Plopping on the sofa, she reached for the VCR remote. The familiar theme of All My Children played as she stabbed at her wilted salad.

Things were heating up in Pine Valley. Julie just discovered she was given up for adoption because her mother was a prostitute. Cue dramatic music!

A soft knock interrupted the opening scene of Erica Kane in one of her scheming dialogues, with her classic narrowed gaze and curled lip.

“HH, it’s me, Matt.”

“Matt Who?” Girl, come on. You know who. She set aside her salad with one eye on the television. What did Erica Kane just say?

“Matt Knight.”

“Oh, hey.” You fool no one, H. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I wondered if you wanted to grab a bite at the Blue Plate Diner.”

The Blue Plate? Matt, what are you doing to me?

“Now?” She checked her reflection in the gilded mirror next to the door. Well, the sweats and cut up T-shirt were a step up from her pizza-stained dress. Her ponytail was cuter than hat head.

“Yes now. It’s lunchtime. Are you going to open up or just keep talking through the door?”

“I, um, just ... ” Why was she nervous? “...came in from a jog.” No, you didn’t. “Give me a sec.” You are certifiable. Grabbing her deflated salad, she ran to the kitchen, tossed it in the trash, then for some unknown reason, splashed her face, her shirt, and her hair with water. Ridiculous, meet stupid. “Matt, why don’t I just meet you there? Give me fifteen?”

“I can wait. I’m curious to see what you did with this place.” He knocked again. “I thought we’d walk over together. Harlow?”

Somewhere between splashing her face and hair, she heard herself call out, “Come on in,” as if they were back on the set of Talk to Me Sweetly, running in and out of each other’s trailers between takes.

The door opened, and Matt strolled in, wearing jeans, a white pullover, and a pair of Pumas.

Not going to lie, she swooned a little.

Matt smiled. “How was your jog?”

“Cut the pretense. You know I didn’t go.”

“But you were planning to?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. One day.” She pointed to the stairs. “Give me fifteen.”

She showered, again, for no freaking reason other than to continue the charade, toweled off, slipped into a sundress and sneakers, braided her hair, mascaraed her eyelashes, then finished it off with a swipe of pink lip gloss.

Matt stood when she came down, his gaze resting on her longer than she deserved. “You clean up nice.”

The vibe between them was delicious and disrupting, like being on a first date. Not that she’d had many first dates, but it only took one or two to understand the zingy-yet-nervous undercurrent.

However, anything reeking of romance was not an option. Not after Xander. Besides, Matt was just being nice. It was who he was, despite his bad-boy rep.

She clicked off the television. She’d catch up with her people tonight. God bless the man who invented the VCR.

“Sorry about the fake jogging story,” she said.

“You almost had me.” He opened the front door. “But sweat doesn’t usually gather in a single spot in the middle of your chest. Or only the ends of your hair.”

“So you’re a sweat expert? There’s no end to your talents.” She walked out with Matt, closing the door behind him.

The connection they had on the set of Talk to Me Sweetly had not faded. Even after everything wrapped, and she was in love with Xander, they sent each other funny cards and talked on the phone about once a month.

Matt started down the sidewalk. “I love Sea Blue Beach in the spring.”

“Do you have a house here?” she said.

“I’m not home enough to warrant my own place so I just bunk in with my dad. But I’ll be here awhile in order to save the Starlight. Hey, you should help us out. We need three hundred and fifty signatures to get a referendum to put the town’s development plans to a vote.”

“How can I help? I just got here.” But she warmed at the idea of belonging to this town. Her own town. She’d never really had anything that was just hers before.

“You’re a property owner. You can register to vote, sign the petition, ask others to do the same.”

As they walked, he brought her up to speed on the town council meeting. “They’re using eminent domain rules, but those of us who love the Starlight want to put progress to a vote. If we get enough signatures, maybe we can turn this ship around.”

“Matt Knight, oh my gosh, it’s Matt Knight.” A group of tourists across the street ran toward him. Matt grabbed her hand and dashed for the diner.

Harlow Hayes had never been one for exercise, but her current physical state gave out-of-shape new meaning. She gasped for every breath.

Matt, however, never gulped air once. “Table for two, Blaire,” he said to the hostess. “In the back.”

“Follow me.” Blaire batted her eyelashes at him. Her long hair and teased bangs suffered from too much Sun-In, but she was pretty. Pleasant.

“What’ll y’all want to drink?” She passed out the menu with a second glance at Harlow. “Hey, I know you. You were in yesterday. Pitcher of sweet tea, right?”

“Unsweet for me,” Matt said, reading the menu.

“I’ll have the same.” Now go away.

Yes, she’d been in yesterday because the fried fish platter tempted her away from her resolve for salad. Of course it had to be paired with sweet tea.

Now Harlow glanced toward the Sweet’N Low. She’d been on artificial sweeteners since she could remember. She was sick of them.

“You have quite the fan base in Sea Blue Beach,” she said.

“Hometown boy and all.”

“Or good-looking superstar who’s made so many great movies and won a Golden Globe.”

“Definitely not that.” He looked so adorable trying to hide his smile as he read the menu. “You think I’m good-looking?”

“Please, the whole world thinks you’re good-looking. Especially that hostess.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been named Most Handsome Man in the World.”

“I do believe you were once dubbed Most Eligible after Xander and I got engaged.”

“He scooped you up before I had a chance.”

“I’ll add flatterer and liar to your talents. Keep it up and I’ll rescind my apology about the fake jog.” She leaned over her menu. “Matt Knight, why are you so eligible? What happened with you and Francesca Bianchi? She should’ve been named Most Beautiful over me.”

“We had different ideas about love.”

“I know the feeling.” She studied the menu because looking up was an invitation for Matt to ask questions. While it felt good to talk about Xander, there were things she’d never shared. Not even to her parents, or Jinx, or Dr. Tagg. What happened that day in the penthouse lobby, or those that followed, was her secret.

Blaire reappeared with a fresh swipe of bright red lipstick. “Are you ready to order?” She snapped her gum and glanced down at Harlow, her pen poised over the order pad. “You want the fish platter again?”

“The garden salad with grilled salmon looks good.” Matt handed over his menu.

“I’ll have the same, dressing on the side.” Said like a bona fide salad-ordering pro, which Harlow Hayes was, in a different life. But in this moment, she was a fraud because she most definitely wanted the fish platter. Why was she faking it? What did she have to prove? Matt had already seen her at her worst.

“So, what have you been up to?” he said after Blaire left.

“Mostly watching soap operas and thinking about jogging. What about you? What happened with Cindy Canon?” Harlow heard pieces of the story on Entertainment Tonight.

“I sort of ditched her at some seedy bar so Steve could drag my car down the Strip.”

“Why’d you ditch her for Steve and Rob?”

“Unless you’re Lucy and you’ve hung up your Shrink Is In sign, let’s move on.”

“Okay, Charlie Brown.”

Their laughter intermingled, picking up where they left off after Talk to Me Sweetly wrapped.

“So...” Matt leaned toward Harlow. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Already?” But yes, whatever, she’d do it.

“Come work at the Starlight. Granny needs to fire a few people, and I want to hire people I trust. You said you were here all summer, so how about it?” He paused. “Wait, are you working? Do you have any jobs coming up?”

“Matt, come on, you know I’m not working. You know I don’t have any jobs coming up.”

“Then come work at the Starlight.”

“Doing what?” She reached for her napkin roll, remembering her upcoming salad with a sting of disappointment. “I don’t know how to skate.”

His smile melted some of her icy places. “Can you count money? Wash a window? Take out trash?”

“How much trash?”

He stuck out his hand. “You’re hired.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Let’s talk money, Mr. Knight. I’m a skilled model. Harlow Hayes can sit at your ticket counter and stare at nothing for hours.”

“So the girl negotiates. All right.” He thought for a moment. “How about ... now, this is not your typical HH money ... minimum wage? Three thirty-five an hour.”

“Matt, hey—” Blaire returned with members of the diner’s crew and a Polaroid camera. “Sorry to barge in, but can we get a picture? Please?” She handed the camera to Harlow. “Could you?”

“You might want her in it too, Blaire,” Matt said. “You know she’s the Most—”

“Amazing photographer.” Harlow pointed to the front window. “This is not the best place for a light. It’s better over there.” She’d learned a few things about lighting and photography over the years. Though it was anyone’s guess what a Polaroid would spit out.

The crew clustered around Matt, with Blaire tucking herself under his arm. Matt’s party-boy reputation always puzzled Harlow. On set, he’d been so focused and serious. Devoted to his craft. Kind and generous with everyone. For their first scene, he’d rehearsed with her for over an hour, coaching her, giving her tips, putting her at ease. At the end of filming, Matt bought brand-new cars for two of the crew members, then denied it when asked by the press.

“Everyone ready?” Harlow said. “Say cheese.” She aimed and clicked, waited for the film to slide from the box, then shot a couple more. She set the prints on a table to dry and handed the camera to Blaire, who gave her a lingering look.

“Say, you do look familiar. How do you know Matt?”

Thankfully, a strong female voice bellowed from the kitchen. “I got food to be cooked and tables to be served, so if y’all aren’t back to work by the time I count to two, every last one of you is fired. One,”—The crew scattered—“two.”

Back at their booth, Matt said, “You were a sport, taking the pictures without saying anything.”

“I didn’t need to say anything. Besides, I like being on the other side of the camera. Working with photographers like Richard Avedon and Irving Penn taught me to appreciate the art of photography.”

“I worked with Avedon a few times,” Matt said. “He was so creative.”

“He shot my first Vogue cover and sealed my success. Yet if you ask my mother, she’s the...” She sighed. “Never mind. Let’s not go there.”

Their salads arrived, and Blaire topped off their tea while giving Harlow another good look before flirting with Matt again.

“Are you going to ask her out?” Harlow said when she’d gone.

“I was thinking of asking you out.”

Harlow choked on her first bite of salmon and lettuce, washing it down with a swig of unsweetened tea. “Very funny.”

“Why’s that funny?”

Their gazes locked while she fished for a clever reply. Was he serious? Didn’t he see she wasn’t the Harlow Hayes anymore?

“You can’t ask me out. You just became my boss. No fraternizing.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to fire you.”

“Too late. I’ve accepted the job.” She stabbed at her salad. Was he teasing her? Having her on, as her British friend Tippy would say.

“If you’re not doing anything this afternoon, meet me at the Starlight. I’ll show you around.”

“All right, but I’m warning you—no skates.”

The grilled salmon salad was delicious, even familiar in a good way. Maybe she’d missed a little bit of Peter Rabbit food.

A customer paused at their table to tell Matt she had his poster on her wall during high school, and another asked for his autograph. He graciously signed and chatted with her.

When he tried to pay, Blaire told him Audra comped his lunch. “Rollo on the Radio announced you were here, and now folks are lined up down the block.”

“Who’s Rollo on the Radio?” Harlow asked.

“Local DJ. Good guy. A few years ahead of me in high school. Can you get us out of here, Blaire? And tell Audra she owes me more than a lunch for dropping my name to Rollo.”

Blaire escorted them through the kitchen to go out the back so folks wouldn’t know he’d left. Laughing, they ran toward the beach, and Harlow was grateful when he stopped at the Beachwalk. Despite the cool spring breeze, certain parts of her dress were dark with perspiration.

“Thank you, Matt.”

“For what?”

For being nice. For being her friend. For treating her like she mattered. “If you don’t know, then forget it, but—”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. But you’d do the same for me.”

She peered up at him, a bit of the Starlight’s neon light on his face. “Yes, I probably would.”