Chapter 41 Harper
Red carpet unfurled from the pagoda tower entrance of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, vintage searchlights sweeping the sky. Sissie Sloan had worked her magic first on the film and then on securing this iconic venue, right in the heart of Hollywood, for their premiere.
“It’s just like the magazines,” Isadore whispered as their limousine pulled to the curb, her slender frame engulfed in a stunning red gown with a starburst of sequins and long satin gloves like she’d stepped off a page of Screenland.
She’d protested the limo for about half a second, until Peter, in his dapper tuxedo and gelled hair, informed her that protesting was nonsense.
Harper reached for her hand. “Breathe.”
They all took a collective breath, Finn included.
As the marquee flashed Moonflower Lake for the crowd barricaded outside, Harper smiled at the glow on Isadore’s face. Not only was it her story, she’d cameoed the role of Mrs. Vane. “This is your moment.”
Isadore straightened her cocktail hat. “It’s our moment.”
Their moment, indeed. And their movie. From script to screen in a year.
Once Sissie approved the concept and assigned Harper a research assistant, the screenplay practically wrote itself. Isadore cooperated completely with Brett Sutton as attorney to advise both the Delve and Lamb families.
But this wasn’t just a film premiere. It was a memorial to preserve what had been lost and a celebration of all that had begun to heal.
As Harper worked on the script, she grappled with the fact that the man who’d destroyed his life and tried to harm so many others was her grandfather. But she didn’t have to process alone. She and Isadore spoke often. And Finn.
Divers found Simon’s remains in Ashe Lake last year, buried in mud.
The county prosecutor declined to press charges against Isadore, citing self-defense, and the henchmen from Cleveland were long gone.
After the discovery of Simon’s body, Finn realized it was impossible for Haven House to remain secret.
He offered the property and lake for the filming location while working with his family to maintain their safe house.
Between selling the film rights and an advance from Olivia’s first newly published book, the trust earned enough to erect a taller fence and hire security.
Harper had spent two weeks in Olivia’s turret, hammering out the first draft on the Royal KHM.
Even with a compelling story and inexpensive location—along with a large investment by Delve Paperworks—the project still wouldn’t have received enough funding to proceed except for the woman who’d just pulled up behind their limousine in a chauffeured SUV.
“I’m in,” Kelsey had said before reading the preliminary screenplay. “As long as I get to kill the—”
“It’s a story about redemption, Kelsey. Not revenge.”
“Redemption and justice.”
“Fair enough,” Harper said. “But with a happily ever after in the end.”
“It’s going to be the best movie,” Kelsey had told her.
Fortunately, she still agreed after reading Harper’s script.
Investors poured in once Kelsey signed up for the leading role, and by the time Clella Vinton, Kelsey’s mom, decided to play Olivia, Sissie had more than enough money to make their movie.
As the limousine driver circled the engine to open their door, Harper’s phone buzzed. She glanced out the back window like she might be able to see Kelsey behind them, but the SUV windows were tinted Hollywood black to hide the stars. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“Not a one,” Kelsey said, “but please tell that gorgeous grandmother of yours to take her sweet time on the carpet. We’re not stepping out until she and Peter are inside.”
Harper smiled at the thought of Kelsey, Chet Taylor, and Sissie clustered together in the SUV.
Officially, Chet was Sissie’s assistant director, but in the past weeks, it seemed to Harper that his interest in the film’s heroine had extended beyond the script.
Oddly enough, Kelsey didn’t seem to mind.
She told Harper that while Chet was a flirt, he was one of the good guys.
Harper glanced at Isadore. “Kelsey says she’s not moving until you do.”
“I did not say that!” Kelsey protested loud enough for all four of them to hear.
“She wants you to shine tonight,” Harper told Isadore as the driver opened the passenger door.
“Now, that’s the truth,” Kelsey said before disconnecting.
“It’s the real Izzy,” a woman shouted from behind the velvet rope.
Isadore beamed as she stepped onto the carpet, Peter following right behind her in his wing-tip oxfords, their hands clasped together.
Her grandparents, Harper thought with a smile, sharing a lifetime of love.
What would it be like to have someone promise to walk the path of life beside you forever, hand in hand?
Finn wore a black tux and bow tie, classic handsome with his unruly hair refusing to be tamed into place, his gaze on Peter and Isadore. While they hadn’t formalized their feelings in the past year, she was long past thinking of him as a friend.
Tonight, Harper was equal parts nervous and excited.
Finn had avoided the film shoot at Haven House, so she’d never introduced him to Kelsey.
And she was terrified to do so, afraid of what she’d called the switch during her high school and college years.
That moment when her boyfriend ditched her for her best friend.
Not that she blamed them, in hindsight, but with Finn .
. . it would break her heart if he fell like the others.
Finn turned his gray eyes on her. “You ready?”
“I’m not sure.” She refocused on the crowd outside the theater, their attention still fixed on Isadore. It would remain on the older woman until Kelsey emerged, followed closely by Clella Vinton and then the actor who’d pleaded with Sissie for Simon’s part.
Moments like this, she still couldn’t believe that her script, a part of her story, had really been produced as a film.
Finn had been right. This was her story to tell, and what a story it had been.
Tonight, she would embrace not just the narrative but the many who’d worked together to breathe life into her words and the many who’d come to watch it.
“You look gorgeous,” Finn said, and she glanced down at the black Breakfast at Tiffany’s dress with a single strand of pearls. Kelsey had even talked her into sporting heels.
“Thank you,” she replied as they stepped out of the limo. “And you . . . you look nothing like a lumberjack.” Even with his tousled hair.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Finn offered his arm, and she gladly took it.
A publicist ushered Peter and Isadore toward a line of photographers for pictures, then the four members of their little party waved to the crowd and proceeded up the carpet.
As Finn opened the theater door, the fans behind them roared, flashes of light popping like corn. Kelsey must have emerged from her car.
Gilded statues, Chinese murals, and hanging lanterns shimmered in the lobby. Like walking through a dream, Harper thought, her hand secure in the crook of Finn’s arm. Through the lobby and into a theater bathed red and gold.
An attendant escorted them to their velour seats on the second row, below an elaborate velvet curtain that veiled the screen.
Sissie and the producer gathered in the front rows with Peter, Isadore, and their core crew—a showrunner, prop master, set designer, cinematographer, editor, assistant producer, Harper’s research assistant, and all the actors accompanied by their publicists.
They’d worked together for months to film, edit, and promote Olivia and Isadore’s story.
Finn reached for her hand. “Am I allowed to order a drink?”
She laughed. “At the after-party.”
“I don’t think I’ll last through the movie and a party.”
“You’ll be just fine,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as the seats behind them filled.
Marcia waved madly at them from several rows back, seated behind the entire Lamb family.
At least twenty of her mom’s church friends drove down from Santa Barbara, and a group of Harper’s friends from film school filed in.
Uncle Jim and his wife sat beside Isadore with their children—Harper’s cousins—scattered across the ornate auditorium.
Her mom would be so pleased to see all of them together, uniting to watch a movie inspired by the brokenness and redemption in her family. Tonight, Harper hoped, God would allow both Olivia and Angeline Rayne to peek behind the curtain separating their worlds and see all that He’d mended.
“I wonder what Olivia would have thought about this?” Finn asked.
“She’d probably be thrilled to see everyone together, and a little mystified as to why someone would want to watch a movie about her instead of a film based on one of her books.”
Finn squeezed her hand. “Let’s pretend she’s in the front row with Isadore.”
She smiled. “I like imagining things with you.”
“I’m glad you asked the hard questions,” he said.
“Really?”
“Now that the truth is out, Haven House can grow.”
“Is that the only reason you’re happy?” she asked, her heart trembling under the theater lights.
“You’re prying again.”
“My curiosity knows no bounds, Finn.”
He lifted her hand and kissed it. “One thing at a time.”
Kelsey turned from the front row, leaning back toward Harper, her stage whisper plenty loud enough for Finn to hear. “I like him.”
“Me too,” Harper said, trying to ram down a fresh bout of worry that Kelsey’s declaration would muddy her relationship with Finn.
Kelsey winked at her. “He’ll keep you on the rails.”
Finn inched forward, completely ignoring Harper in the middle. “If I don’t get run over first.”
“Oh, you’ll get run over.” Kelsey laughed. “But she’ll apologize quite nicely before another idea pops into her head.”
“I’m sitting right here!”
“No, you’re really not,” Kelsey told her. “At least, not for long. I give you two minutes before your head is off someplace else.”