Chapter 12
TWELVE
HARLOW
“So, you and Sterling, huh?” Ben questions as he dances with me.
“There is nothing–” I start to protest, but he just grins.
“Listen, I make no judgement here,” he soothes, his smile faltering when he notices my terrified expression. “Please don’t worry, I won’t out you both. Besides, Sterling’s my best friend, I wouldn’t betray his trust, and therefore I won’t betray yours. Whatever’s going on between you is your business, but tonight probably isn’t the best time to get all up and personal with each other given your parents have literally just tied the knot.”
I nod, he’s right of course. “I appreciate you stepping in when you did. This is… difficult for me.”
“For Sterling too, I imagine,” he responds, cutting a look at our parents who are still dancing. “His father likes to make his life a misery. Robert’s an arsehole.”
“I understand that their relationship is strained,” I reply, looking up at him with a question in my eyes. “Could you help me to understand why?”
Ben winces, casting Robert a disapproving look, his expression darkening. “If Sterling hasn’t opened up to you about his relationship with his dad, then I’m not going to. You should probably ask him.”
“That’s fair,” I agree softly.
“Just know that a friend of Sterling’s is a friend of mine, okay?” he quickly adds, giving me a beaming smile that would no doubt melt the panties off most women, and likely some men.
“Thank you.”
“So,” he begins after a beat, swiftly changing the subject as we continue to dance. “Your voice is pretty spectacular.”
“That’s nice of you to say,” I reply, my cheeks heating at his compliment.
“You sing professionally, I take it?”
“Actually, no. I work as my mother’s personal assistant. Have done so for the last seven years.”
“Well, that’s a complete waste of talent. Ever considered getting a manager?”
“Never,” I reply with a depreciating laugh.
“Why the fuck not?” he insists. “Surely it must’ve crossed your mind?”
“Back in my early twenties I reached out to a few people,” I admit. “But it ended up with me getting propositioned by some dodgy record label executives, and I decided I didn’t want to exchange my body for a record deal.” I shrug, like it’s no big deal, when really it made me feel like shit.
“That’s fucked-up. If I was your manager I would’ve knocked their lights out,” he retorts, scowling, and I warm to him even more as he tucks me tighter against his chest in a completely platonic, albeit protective embrace.
“It was fucked-up,” I agree, huffing out a breath.
“So that put you off from pursuing a career as a singer?”
“Partly, but I’m not really one for all the attention.”
“You gained the attention of a lot of people today. Pretty sure everyone was struck by your voice. It’s a gift, Harlow.”
“I hadn’t intended on singing today, but Robert wanted me to.”
“Not your mother?” he questions with a frown, picking up on the fact that I don’t mention her.
“She doesn’t think much of my singing,” I explain, ignoring the hurt that blooms in my chest.
“Is she for real? Your voice is outstanding.”
“So you’ve said,” I reply, heat burning my cheeks. I’m not used to the compliments, and tonight I’ve had plenty of them. It feels nice, admittedly, but receiving compliments and accepting them as fact are two very different things.
“Do you want a manager?” he asks, easing me to the side when a drunken couple almost stumbles into us.
“Sorry, slippery floor,” the guy replies, the woman in his arms giggling. I’m pretty sure she’s an acquaintance of my mother. Both of them are drunk.
I laugh, partly because of the way the couple stumble off the dance floor, and partly because of Ben’s question. Like I’ll ever be able to make a career out of singing now.
“You know someone?” I ask, humouring him.
“Yeah, me.”
“ You ?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, I happen to be a bloody good manager. I manage Bandits Bar in town–”
“So you manage a bar ?”
“Actually, I own the bar and manage the band that has made it famous. Princetown Bandits are going to be the next big thing, and they started out playing at my bar. They still do most nights. I’m in talks right now with a couple of well-known record labels who are currently in a battle over who’s going to sign them and make a shitload of money, but keep that to yourself, it’s kind of a secret,” he says, winking at me.
“Well, that’s impressive.”
“I’m not just a pretty face,” he retorts with a smirk, and to be fair he is very good looking with his curly brown, tousled hair, incredibly piercing green eyes, and taut body beneath his well-cut suit. As much as I appreciate his good looks, I happen to prefer his best friend, and Ben seems very interested in a married woman.
“I’ll take your word for it,” I joke back, and his grin widens.
“I rather like you, Harlow Richards. I think you’ll be good for my surly, mostly awkward-as-fuck best friend.”
“Not sure anyone else would agree,” I reply, catching my mother’s eye as she lifts a brow then whispers in Robert’s ear. She steps out of his embrace, and heads towards our direction, but is stopped by another member of the wedding party, thankfully. Still, I really don’t want to talk to her right now, so I gently ease myself out of Ben’s arms, and say, “It was nice talking with you, Ben. Hopefully we can catch up another time?”
“Absolutely, and if you ever decide you want a manager after all, then here’s my card,” he says, reaching into his inside pocket and handing me a black business card with green foiled writing. “This has my contact details. At the very least give me a buzz if you need a friend, yeah?”
I raise a brow. “A friend?”
“Purely platonic, I swear,” he grins.
“I’ll think about it,” I reply, taking the card from him and giving him one last smile, hoping my mother doesn’t follow me.
Thankfully when I cast my gaze over my shoulder, I find that Ben has snagged my mother for a dance. I catch his gaze and he winks, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Deciding that I need a moment to gather myself, I grab my bag from the table I left it at, tuck Ben’s business card inside it and head towards the ladies room, giving polite smiles to some of the wedding guests as I pass them by in the hallway. It was sweet of Ben to offer me the opportunity to sing at his bar, but I’m not sure that would be a good idea, mostly because my mother would hate it.
Then again, what would be the harm? She agreed to me singing at her wedding, albeit reluctantly, would it be so bad to do it again in a more informal setting? I don’t even have to hide behind my alter ego Friday Love, and the thought of being able to sing freely as myself is, admittedly, quite tempting.
Truth be known, singing today has given me some much needed confidence, and whilst I still don’t particularly like the attention, I’m not immune to the compliments I’ve received over the course of the evening, even if I still find them difficult to accept.
Musing on the idea, I step into the ladies room and head to a stall. Closing the door, I take a seat on the toilet, not actually needing to relieve myself but needing a moment’s peace.
I’m still reeling from my interaction with Sterling in Dalton’s office, and despite everything, I can’t just switch off my attraction towards him, or the connection I feel. I’m struggling with all the conflicting emotions, and honestly, it’s a lot to deal with.
The worst thing is that I don’t have anyone to talk to about it other than Sterling who is, apparently, more than willing to pursue a relationship despite the fact we are now, for all intents and purposes, family. I don’t have any close girlfriends to discuss my predicament with, and even if I did have a better relationship with my mother, I can’t talk to her for obvious reasons.
Right now I feel incredibly lonely, and this whole shitstorm has only highlighted just how alone I really am. Heaving out a sigh, I press my eyes shut willing the tears forming not to fall. Feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to change anything. I need to think rationally and without emotion, and I can’t do that if I’m constantly tempted by a man I cannot have, which will be awfully hard to do considering I have nowhere else to live. Living in Adaga Hall with Sterling is going to be challenging to say the least.
“These shoes are killing me,” a female voice mutters, her footsteps clicking on the marble floor just beyond the closed door.
I know how she feels, I’m dying to head back to my room so that I can strip down and relax in a bubble bath. I’m about done with socialising for one day. Deciding it’s about time I do that, I open the cubicle door and head for the sink to wash my hands even though I don’t really need to.
Out of the corner of my eye I see a pretty, petite woman with striking strawberry blonde hair with pink streaks highlighted throughout. We haven’t been introduced formally, but I believe she’s called Daisy and is the younger sister of Drix. I only know that because Dalton had pointed her out in our brief conversation earlier when she’d looked our way and had thrown him a glare which he had returned with a wink.
I’d assumed that they know each other well, considering her relationship with Drix, and Dalton’s friendship with him, but her responding scowl when he’d pointed her out threw me a little.
“You’re Harlow, right?” Daisy asks, stepping towards me as I reach for a paper towel and dry my hands.
“I am,” I confirm, dropping the paper towel into the trash tucked beneath the vanity unit, before giving her a soft smile. “And you’re Daisy?”
“That’s right, how did you know?” she asks me, cocking her head to the side as she gives me a curious look, her pretty hair falling around her face in soft waves.
“I was talking to Dalton earlier–”
Her expression immediately changes from warm and welcoming to downright disgust as she wrinkles her nose. “Don’t tell me, he tried to hit on you? That man has literally zero boundaries when it comes to pursuing women. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
“No, he didn’t hit on me at all. He was actually super friendly.”
“I bet he was, Dalton can lay on the charm when he wants to,” she replies, not at all convinced.
“You don’t like him then?”
Daisy shakes her head. “He’s an arse. An arrogant, egotistical, self-centred one at that. That man thinks with his dick more than his brain. I think he’s slept with most of the single women in Princetown and quite a few of the married ones as well.”
“I see,” I laugh, unable to help myself. She’s kind of fiery, and I like that.
“He’s also my brother’s best friend, and has been the bane of my life. Drix has terrible taste in friends.”
“You don’t like Ben or Sterling either?”
“Excluding them, of course. They’re good guys, but Dalton? Urgh, I honestly don’t know what Drix sees in him.”
“I can’t help you there, I’m afraid, I really don’t know anyone very well at all. This is the first time I’ve met them,” I explain, and even though it’s only a little white lie, I still feel guilty for lying, given Sterling and I are already acquainted.
“What, this is the first time you’ve met Sterling?” she asks, mouth agape.
“My mother and I only arrived a couple of days ago, and well, Robert…” My voice trails off. I’m not sure how to explain why Robert only saw fit to introduce us at his wedding for the first time. Well, at least that’s what he thought he was doing.
“Ah, yeah, that makes sense. Robert and Sterling do not get along,” Daisy says, pulling a face that has me even more curious about their strained relationship. “In all honesty, I’m surprised Sterling agreed to be his Best Man.”
“Can you tell me why? I seem to be a bit out of the loop here.”
“Mostly because Robert is an arsehole–”
“Funny, you’re not the first person to say as much,” I reply.
“That’s because it’s true,” she shrugs, giving me a rueful grin, but her smile drops when she sees my frown. “Sorry, he’s just married your mum. I’m sure they’ll be very happy together.”
I get the distinct impression that she’s telling me what I want to hear. Right now I just want the truth.
“He’s only been welcoming to me,” I insist, not in defence of Robert per se–there’s clearly something I’m missing here–but because I don’t understand why he’s considered such an arsehole by others too. Admittedly, it’s beginning to make me question the man Robert’s portrayed himself to be.
“I’m glad, truly,” she replies, wincing a little.
“So why?” I insist, wanting to get to the bottom of it.
“Why he’s an arsehole or why Robert and Sterling don’t get along?”
“Both, I guess.”
“Well, Robert divorced Sterling’s mum after thirty years of marriage and broke her heart, casting her aside like she meant nothing to him,” she says. “It was devastating for her, and Sterling loves his mother deeply.”
“That would explain some of the animosity between them, but people divorce all the time. Not that I’m saying that it wouldn’t have been hurtful to Sterling and his mother, but it happens. Marriages break down, that’s all I meant,” I add quickly.
“I know that’s what you meant, but…”
“But?”
“Well, Robert isn’t well known for his kindness, let’s put it that way. He’s a ruthless businessman, and…” Daisy hesitates, chewing on her lip.
“And?”
“I think this is a conversation you need to have with Sterling,” she replies, chewing on her lip.
“Okay,” I reply, realising that she isn’t going to say anything further, and I don’t blame her, she probably feels a little cornered by my questioning. The last thing I want is for her to think I’m trying to go behind Sterling’s back and dig for information. But my concern only deepens, given Ben had said something similar as well.
“So, your voice…” Daisy says, her face lighting up with a beaming smile. “It’s pretty amazing.”
“Thank you.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve heard anything more beautiful.”
My cheeks heat as I let the compliment sink beneath my skin and really settle inside of me, but after years of my mother putting me down, and ridiculing my dreams of becoming a singer-songwriter, it’s still difficult to believe that my voice is as good as everyone appears to think it is. Not that I don’t appreciate her kindness, because I do.
“So, what do you do for a living?” I ask, changing the subject.
“I work here at the hotel,” she explains. “On reception. Have done so for a few years now.”
“You work with Dalton then?” I ask.
She pulls another face. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“You really don’t like him very much do you?” I mean, she said as much just a moment ago, but there’s disliking someone and there’s hating someone, and I’m beginning to get the impression she very much despises Dalton.
“Is it that obvious?”
“I’m afraid so.”
She reaches into her clutch, and pulls out a bright pink lipstick, taking off the cap as she begins to apply some to her lips. “I’m not the only one. I think most of the women he’s fucked and then cast aside hate him a whole lot too.”
“You’ve slept with him?” I blurt out, instantly cursing myself the moment the question leaves my lips when she snaps her head around to look at me.
“Oh, hell no!” she replies, making a gagging face. “I wouldn’t touch him if he was the last man on earth. I just meant that I’m one of the many women who dislike him. I just have different reasons as to why.”
“Ah, I see.” I don’t see, but I’m not in a position to delve any deeper given we’ve only just met.
She looks at me in the mirror, applying the last of her lipstick, before recapping it and placing it in her clutch. “Are you coming back outside, or do you need another minute?”
“I’m just going to stay in here for a bit,” I reply, dropping my gaze. I should go back outside and join in on the celebrations, but I’m not ready to face my mother, let alone Sterling.
“Sure thing,” she responds, turning to face me. “I get it. Meeting everyone for the first time tonight must be overwhelming.”
“It is,” I admit.
“Well, it’s been lovely chatting with you. If you ever need a friend, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me. Sterling has my number, and I happen to know a lovely café in town. I’d be happy to meet you for a coffee or something…” she offers, giving me a genuine smile.
“That’s really nice of you,” I reply, not making any promises.
It’s not that I don’t like her, and from first impressions she seems really friendly and exactly the type of person I’d be friends with if I had the chance. It's just that I’m not planning on sticking around long enough to form any lasting friendships.
“Well, I hope to see you around, Harlow,” she replies, leaving me to contemplate the true nature of Sterling and his father’s hostility.