Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Harper
“ I ’m so glad to see you,” Isla said once the two men had left. She rounded the island and threw her arms around Harper, hugging her tight.
The relief Harper had experienced when Isla and King had arrived had almost floored her. Hearing her sister was fine was one thing, but seeing Isla for herself was entirely different. That was all she wanted.
Harper had woken up early and hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. So she had left Logan sleeping and was downstairs reading a book for close to an hour when she’d heard tires on the gravel drive.
She’d opened the door and had been relieved to see Isla was her usual bouncy self, King trailing behind her like he wished he was anywhere else. But what was new?
They had only just sat down at the kitchen island, Harper putting cups of coffee in front of Isla and King when Logan had made his grand entrance.
Harper’s cheeks went hot at the thought. What a way to introduce your?—
What was Logan to her, anyway?
Lover? Boyfriend? What did it matter? She was leaving.
Isla pulled back from their hug, breaking Harper’s reverie. “So…” she waggled her eyebrows. “Are you going to tell me about Mr. Hung Like A Horse?”
Harper snorted and swatted at Isla with her hand. “Come on, I don’t kiss and tell.”
Isla tilted her head to one side, a look of surprise on her face. “So you have kissed him?” She emphasized the word ‘kissed’ so Harper had no doubt that wasn’t what she’d meant.
“No comment.”
“See, that’s what you should have said to that woman in the bathroom.”
Harper’s mood shattered and she slumped onto one of the kitchen stools. “I know. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I can make it up to you.”
Isla laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
Harper slowly shook her head. “No. Why would I joke about this? I’ve ruined your career?—”
Isla flapped a hand in dismissal. “Oh, please. Ruined schmuined. It wasn’t my career anyway.”
Harper blinked. What was going on? She was completely lost.
“Ok,” Isla took pity on her and perched on one of the kitchen stools, turning so their knees almost bumped. “I need you to tell me exactly what dad said to you.”
“When?”
Harper’s eyebrows knitted. It was all such a blur, how was she going to remember any of that.
“When he sent you away after the gala dinner in Boston.”
Harper thought back. “He didn’t speak to me until the next day.”
“What did he say?”
“Something about how it was all my fault, and that I’d told the reporter you were—” she stopped and swallowed, “—a talentless hack.”
Isla’s jaw dropped.
“I didn’t, you know. Say that. I didn’t actually say much at all.”
“I know you wouldn’t say something like that about me. But I know who would.” Isla’s lips pressed into a thin line, her arms crossed against her chest.
“Who would say something like that about you?”
“Guess.”
Harper racked her brain. Their father had spent considerable effort over the years screening anyone who would get close to Isla. And it had to be someone close to her, for her sister to be so angry about it. People said worse all the time, but not people whose opinions mattered to Isla. “Surely not King?”
Isla snorted in laughter. “No, not King. Dad.”
Harper jumped from her stool, her stomach dropping. “What? No way. He would never?—”
“Yes, he would, Harps. He’s called me a talentless hack for years. He even made me repeat it back to him. I am a talentless hack that wouldn’t have made it anywhere without his and my sister’s help.” She snorted, shaking her head, her tone derisive.
Harper sagged back against the stool, knocking it to the floor. Neither woman paid it any attention. Harper felt like her whole world had been turned upside down.
“But he’s our dad…”
“Yeah, he was. As far as I’m concerned, he’s not my father anymore.” Isla’s tone was vicious and biting. “I wouldn’t have been able to face up to any of this without King, you know.” She said, her voice softening.
Harper picked up her coffee and took a sip, not caring that it had cooled almost to undrinkable. She needed something to do with her hands.
“Why would he say that to you?”
Isla sighed. “So he could manipulate us both. Telling me I need you to write the songs. Telling you that your anxiety would never allow you to perform. Keeping us both on an allowance and never giving either of us the money we deserved.”
Harper waved a hand. “Oh no, that’s your money. I wasn’t the one who put the hard work in.”
Isla gaped. “Do you have any idea how much a songwriter gets paid? And then the royalties?”
“Uh, no.”
“Ok. Let’s just say that we’re getting our earnings from dad and we’re going to split them 50/50.”
“I can’t?—”
“Yes, you can. And I’ve managed to negotiate a way to re-release the albums with your name as the songwriter.”
Harper’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, wow.”
Isla lifted a hand. “It should never have happened like this. If we were to be a team, then we needed to work together and be a team, not be played off against each other.”
Harper nodded absently, still shaken by what Isla had revealed.
Isla picked up her own cup of coffee and took a swig. “Oh, yuck. Cold.” She pulled a face and put the mug down.
“I’ll make you another cup.”
While Harper busied herself making coffee, the two women caught up over the events of the past three weeks, ending with Harper singing karaoke more than once and really enjoying it.
“I never thought I’d be able to do that,” she said softly, laughing as Isla squealed and clapped her hands together.
“I’m so proud of you!” Isla cried, throwing her arms around Harper, the coffee forgotten once more.
That was new. Harper had become used to being the one that cheered her sister on. The tight feeling she’d had in her chest eased, and she hugged her sister back.
Isla pulled back, holding Harper by the shoulders at arm’s length. “So, what do you want to do?”
Hadn’t Logan asked her exactly the same thing? What did she want to do? She loved music and she loved writing songs, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to be a performer. Isla had been touring since her first album came out at age seventeen, and Harper had been by her side all the way.
She was well and truly over being on the road.
Any romantic ideas about the life of a touring musician had well and truly been driven away. Harper was ready to stay in one place. To put down roots.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I just want to be happy.”
“Oof. I feel that.” Isla smiled sadly. “I’m heading back home and I kind of thought you’d come with me.”
Harper nodded. That’s what she’d thought, too. Isla smirked. “Somehow, I think you might prefer to stay?”
Harper flushed and pulled away, walking over to look across the water. She hugged herself, arms wrapped around her middle.
She did want to stay, more than anything, but that wasn’t the deal. That wasn’t what Logan said he wanted, and she wasn’t sure her heart would survive the rejection.
Wouldn’t it be better to just accept this time in Cape Wilde for what it was and move on with her life? Logan West would forever be a fond memory. Maybe one day she could think of him without her heart hurting.
She frowned. The whole reason she was here was to make things up to her dad and her sister. To write the album. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to her dad again, and the rest had worked itself out. Mostly. She still had that album to work on with Isla.
“It doesn’t matter what I want?—”
“Harper, please?—”
She turned to face Isla, lifting a hand to stop her sister from talking.
“No, it really doesn’t matter what I want. He doesn’t want me here. Not like that.” A stabbing through her chest made her wince.
Isla opened her mouth, but Harper gave her a look and kept her hand up.
“I’ve been working on the album for you.”
Isla rolled her eyes. “Who gives a shit about the album?”
“I do!” Harper exclaimed, realizing it was true.
She did care about the album. She’d put so much work into those songs, she’d worked harder than she had ever in her life. And she’d done it all out of love for her sister.
She didn’t want to lose all that hard work. And she was so angry at her dad for the bullshit he’d pulled on both her and Isla. She unwrapped her arms and smoothed her hands over the fabric of her top.
“He shouldn’t get away with it.” Harper flexed her fingers and unclenched her jaw. “He’s our dad. How could he do that to us?”
Isla nodded, eyes shining. “Alright,” Isla said, her voice soft. “What’s the plan?”
Harper smiled grimly. Even if she had to leave Cape Wilde, she could at least salvage something from this time and help Isla get her career back on track. The first album she’d help Isla record, and with her own name as songwriter.
Wasn’t this what she had always wanted?