Chapter 40
HARPER
CHAPTER FORTY
Luna:
We’ve got another girls’ night coming up, and we want you there. *I* want you there. I need you to save me from my obsessive soon-to-be sister-in-law.
Harper:
What’s Addison done now?
Luna:
She’s got a binder for the wedding. A freaking BINDER.
Harper:
Organization isn’t a bad thing when it comes to wedding planning, or so I’ve heard.
Luna:
Maybe not. Except I’d be perfectly happy eloping on the beach.
Harper:
I’m starting to see the issue…
Luna:
Tomorrow night at Stan’s. Mark it on your calendar. I’m not taking no for an answer!
A few days after dinner at the Lockharts’, I was keeping an eye out the windows of the Gazette, just as I’d been doing all morning like a creeper. But tough times called for tough measures, and I’d do whatever needed to get the job done. Thus far, I’d been unsuccessful in nailing down either of the last two Steele brothers, and I wanted to try my luck at all four guys before I gave up on this avenue.
So as soon as I saw one of them roll up on a motorcycle in front of the bar, I was out of my seat before the door to One Night Stan’s swung shut behind him. With no time to waste, I grabbed my phone and my notepad full of the questions I’d been jotting down and strode out the front door of the Gazette and straight across the street.
In the time that had taken me, Brother #3 was already on his way out of the bar and headed for his bike once again, straddling it just as I got to him.
“Hey there.” I lifted my hand in greeting. “I was hoping to catch you before you left.”
He planted both feet on the ground, eyeing me up and down with a raised brow. “Do I know you?”
“We haven’t officially met. I’m Harper Davidson.”
With suspicion cloaking every inch of him, he shook the hand I offered. And dammit, these Steele boys were hard nuts to crack. “What can I do for you, Harper?”
The request was kind enough, but from the way he asked the question, he wasn’t much—or at all—interested in accommodating the answer.
“I’m in town working on an article about the secret of Starlight Cove and why so many high-profile people decide to make this their forever home. I was hoping to ask you a few questions about your da?—”
I didn’t even get the last word out before he turned on his motorcycle, the engine rumbling to life beneath him.
“I’ve got somewhere to be. But maybe you’ll have better luck with one of my brothers.” With a lift of his chin, he revved the engine, waited until I stepped back, and tore off down the street without a backward glance, taking shot three out of four with him.
My shoulders slumped as I watched him tear out of here and away from me, blowing out a frustrated breath as he went. “If only those brothers of yours were any help,” I mumbled to no one but myself.
While I’d managed to unearth quite a few details about Stan in my internet sleuthing, I much preferred to have the personal touch that came from firsthand accounts. It was just too bad Brick Wall wasn’t alone in shutting down this line of questioning. All three of them had done the same thing, albeit in different manners—Brick Wall being blunt, Charmer being, well, charming, and Mr. Avoidance blowing me off entirely. God only knew what I’d be in for with Brother #4.
Fortunately, I’d anticipated this outcome, covering my ass and moving in a slightly different direction just in case this path didn’t lead anywhere. In doing so, I’d talked to some truly remarkable people who either currently or had in the past called Starlight Cove home. I knew the article, with or without the inclusion of the elusive Stan, was going to knock my editor’s socks off.
Which meant my ticket to permanence…to roots…was around the corner.
I’d just made it back across the street and opened the door to the Gazette when my phone rang in my hand. Speak of the devil—Naomi’s name flashed on my screen.
I exhaled a deep breath and shook off the rejection from Mr. Avoidance, not wanting whatever feelings I had about my interaction with him to bleed into my conversation with her.
When I was sure I’d stripped everything away, I answered. “Hello?”
“Harper, hi. Just checking in. How’s the article coming?”
“Great,” I said, allowing every ounce of excitement I could manage to reflect in my tone. “I’ve uncovered a lot of surprising and interesting sources, and I’m happy with how it’s developing.”
“That’s what I love to hear. Really looking forward to seeing the finished piece. As well as what the future holds.”
Her words were innocuous enough and could’ve meant a dozen different things. But I knew they didn’t. I knew they were in reference to the exact reason I’d taken this assignment in the first place, and they sent me into a tailspin. Nerves and excitement and…trepidation overwhelming me.
After confirming my deadline in two weeks and saying our goodbyes, I ended the call, exhaling a deep breath as I placed my phone on my desk.
Except it wasn’t really mine because Starlight Cove wasn’t really mine.
From the beginning, this had only been a stopping-off point. Just a detour on the way to my next adventure. Namely, a permanent position at Weekend Wanderlust and a permanent home in New York City, a place where I could finally put down roots.
I hadn’t had a permanent home in close to a decade, hadn’t had roots in longer than that. My apartment in Boston was a pre-furnished placeholder that had never felt like anything but.
I’d traveled around the world, gone to so many different places, had lived in Chicago and Philly and even a brief stint in DC, but I’d never felt permanence. Never felt like if I put down roots, they would sink into the soil and ground me. Hold me safe and secure.
Not like I did now, here, with him.
The following day, I walked into One Night Stan’s, knowing the rest of the girls were already here by the sheer volume inside the space. A few other patrons were scattered along the bar and in a couple booths against the wall, but the vast majority of the noise came from the table directly in the middle of the establishment and the lovely group of women I was meeting.
A group of women I could actually call friends.
Every single one of them had reached out to me at one point or another since our first night out all those weeks ago, whether via text or stopping me to chat if they saw me around town or popping into the Gazette just to say hi. And I was sort of…loving it?
For as much as this was uncharted territory for me, I couldn’t deny how much I’d begun to look forward to those interactions and how touched I’d been when Luna had invited me along tonight. It felt a little like I was becoming a part of this group. Like, maybe, I had a place here.
As soon as I walked up to the table, all attention swiveled to me, and a chorus of “Harper!” went up from everyone.
“Hey,” I said with a smile, hanging my purse over the back of my chair before sinking into it.
“Just in time.” Luna shot me a forced grin. “Addison was about to pull out the wedding binder.”
I rolled my lips in, barely withholding a laugh. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No worries.” Everly waved a hand through the air. “The pitcher of margaritas just arrived.”
“Busy at work?” Addison asked, clutching the binder to her chest like a prized possession.
“Yeah, actually. I was working on an interview, and she was real chatty.”
“Ooh!” Avery said, her eyes sparkling as she rested her elbows on the table and leaned toward me. “Tell us more!”
“Definitely fill us in.” Quinn poured me a margarita. “How’s the article coming?”
“Really great. I just got done interviewing Betty Baker. She’s led a pretty amazing life.”
“Isn’t she that famous pinup model?” Avery asked.
“That’s the one. She’s celebrating her hundredth birthday next week.”
“A legend.” Avery held her glass in the air, toasting to my source. “Truly.”
“Can’t wait to read the article when it’s all done,” Quinn said.
“That reminds me.” Everly reached toward me, tapping her hand on the table between us. “I’ve been loving your weekly column in the Gazette. I wish I’d had something like that when I first moved here.”
“If you’d had that, maybe you wouldn’t have pestered my brother, and then where would we be?” Addison asked.
Everly laughed, elbowing Addison in the side before returning her attention to me. “No, but seriously. I felt like such an outsider. Starlight Cove was such a well-oiled machine, and I couldn’t see where I fit in. Having this would’ve really helped. And I think it’s going to be great for new residents we have coming into town.”
“Well, don’t get too attached,” Addison said, eyeing me in a way that left me feeling open and vulnerable. “There’s only going to be, what, two more?”
While I’d been doing my best to compartmentalize the timeline I had to work on this article and the time I had left in Starlight Cove, allowing myself to focus on one and not the other, I had no way of dodging this reminder. It slammed into me, the reality that I had mere days left in town sinking like a brick in my stomach.
I didn’t know if this was the nervous jitters that always bubbled under my skin before diving into my next project or if this was something more. Something telling me that maybe New York wasn’t the right place for me. Or maybe it was just the part of me that was already feeling the loss of these connections I’d made in the one place I wasn’t meant to stay.