All Roads Lead to Michigan (Wynn Harbor Inn #5)

Chapter 1

“A penny for your thoughts.”

Harlow Wynn turned to find her best friend, Eryn Marquette, quietly watching her. “I feel like a stranger in a strange land.”

Eryn slipped in next to her, gazing out the apartment’s window at the endless miles of blacktop and pavement.

Off in the distance were peaks and valleys, mostly filled with homes, a far cry from the charming island that she—and Harlow—called home.

“It’s…” She struggled to find an accurate description.

“Cold?”

“Somewhat.”

“Congested?” Harlow asked.

“It is, but this isn’t the word I was looking for.”

“Crowded.”

“Yes, crowded, congested and cold. Maybe it’s a combination,” Eryn said.

Harlow nodded absentmindedly, staring out at the concrete jungle and comparing it to Lighthouse Lane, the cozy stone cottage on the shores of Lake Huron she’d recently purchased and was in the process of renovating. The jungle came up way short as far as she was concerned.

The two were night and day. Hollywood glitz and glam versus laidback Mackinac Island. Two totally different worlds and vibes.

Despite the stark contrast between her worlds, Harlow could feel her excitement grow at being back in LA to wrap up some loose ends for her new movie project.

She had quickly slipped into “movie star mode,” accustomed to the paparazzi, schmoozing and hobnobbing with Hollywood’s movers and shakers, the elite group who ran the entertainment industry.

Poor Eryn was clearly out of her element. Bless her heart, she’d quickly learned less was more. Fewer words, fewer facial expressions. Despite catching on fast, Harlow knew her friend better than anyone and sensed she felt overwhelmed by it all.

Throw in a tense phone conversation with her ex-husband and still-manager Robert Barbetz, and Harlow was right there with Eryn…ready to hightail it back to the peace and tranquility of her beloved piece of paradise.

The stopover at her new rental, the condominium where she would “hang her hat” when she was in town, at least for the next year, to grab her keys and check it out, was more of an afterthought but now that Harlow was here, she was glad they’d taken the time to swing by.

Eryn ran a light hand over the cream-colored leather sofa. “At least the furniture is nice.”

“And I’m paying a nice price for it. Although I’m not complaining. Vic and I will be comfortable living here.”

Vic Stern, Harlow’s personal bodyguard, had met up with her the previous day to go over her schedule.

Despite him living in Hollywood, they had worked out an agreement.

He would move into the condo, keep the rental under his name for security reasons, and be available to accompany her out in public while she was in town.

It was a win-win for both of them. Vic could be flexible to take on other projects, yet carve out time in his schedule to help his close friend.

Eryn sank down on the sofa, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I could take a nap right here,” she murmured.

Harlow padded over and plopped down next to her. “Exhausting, isn’t it?”

“No kidding. All those parties, meetings, not to mention sneaking around to avoid the nosy news people.”

Harlow laughed out loud.

“I’m serious. That one guy was no joke.”

“The paparazzi can be…persistent.”

Eryn sat upright, having gotten her second wind. “So, what’s on the agenda for the rest of today?”

“I have one more meeting in Studio City.” Harlow consulted her watch. “It shouldn’t take more than an hour, hour and a half. After that, we’re free as birds. Free to blow this popsicle stand and fly home.”

Her bestie slowly stood, lifting both hands over her head in a long stretch. “I have to admit, I’m disappointed. We haven’t had a single sighting.”

“Me too.” Before Harlow and Eryn had left Mackinac Island, the town was buzzing with rumors that local Cheyenne Clifton was filming in LA.

Having heard from reliable sources that Robert, who was not only Harlow’s ex-husband but also her current business manager, had taken Cheyenne under his wing and whisked her off to Hollywood to introduce her to several of the bigwigs, she figured they would cross paths eventually.

Robert had even gone as far as to brag about how he planned to turn Cheyenne into a household name, an even bigger star than Harlow. She had done some poking around, curious to find out if anything of substance had transpired.

Her ex, who had kept in regular contact, making sure all the t’s were crossed, i’s were dotted and that she was fulfilling the conditions and requirements of their lucrative contract, had suddenly gone quiet. Stone-cold silent, except for their contentious conversation.

Unanswered texts, delayed email replies, all her calls going directly to voicemail. Having been married to him for years, she knew this meant he had something up his sleeve and was determined to keep it on the downlow.

“Can’t you put some feelers out, to find out if Cheyenne is here in LA?” Eryn asked.

“The entertainment industry is a pretty small, tight-knit group of who’s who. If she’s here, someone would know it.”

“Ask Robert.”

Harlow wrinkled her nose. “It’s a thought. I’ll admit I’m curious.”

“Me too. I’m dying to know if it’s true. Cheyenne is the kind of person who would make up an elaborate story.”

“And tell it to anyone who would listen.”

“Yep. Miss Snooty Pants would remind all of us what peasants we are and how she’s on her way to superstardom.”

Harlow linked arms with Eryn and meandered to the door.

“I’m meeting with Steven. He knows everything that’s going on in Tinseltown, the up-and-coming, down-and-out, and everyone in between.

After we’re done, let’s hit the gym and then change into those fancy duds we purchased.

It’ll be fun to hit a few hotspots and make a big splash before we hop on our jet tomorrow morning. ”

Because of her Studio City apartment’s proximity to the studios, Harlow and Eryn reached the backlot and guarded gate within minutes.

Harlow zigged and zagged until entering a primo lot where every other spot was reserved for the bigwigs.

Eryn whistled loudly. “I’ve heard some of these names. Must be nice to have your own designated parking spot.”

“Only the best for the movers and shakers.” Harlow eased into an empty spot, one without a name. Grabbing her designer bag, she met Eryn on the sidewalk for the short trek to a towering box of a building.

Just inside the door a guard stopped them, asking for ID. After checking both and verifying they were on the list, he let them through.

While the exterior of the building was bland and boring, the interior was the exact opposite. Tall ceilings. Ornate décor with a French flair, marble flooring, expensive works of art on the wall and on display.

Harlow walked at a brisk pace to the end of the hallway only to find Eryn lagging behind, enthralled by the elaborate artwork. She patiently waited for her friend to catch up.

“This place is like a museum,” Eryn whispered. “No wonder security is tight.”

“I’ll agree it’s impressive, but not my style.” Harlow grasped the doorknob connecting the lobby area with the private chambers of Hollywood’s elite. The second corridor, narrower but no less extravagant, revealed offices on each side.

At the end sat an ultramodern desk that reminded Harlow of a gold ribbon. A young woman, in her early twenties if she had to guess, watched them approach. A flicker of recognition flitted across her face. “Can I help you?”

“I have a meeting with Steven Treb.”

The woman lowered her gaze and tapped her iPad. “Ms. Wynn?”

“Correct. Harlow Wynn.”

“I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“Thank you.” Harlow strode over to the lounge area and took a seat next to Eryn. “There’s a snack bar and a beverage station with coffee and tea.” She pointed out where the complimentary snack area was located. “Like I said, I should only be an hour, an hour and a half tops.”

“Cool beans. Don’t worry about me,” Eryn said. “Coffee sounds good.”

Fast heels clicked on the marble floor. The receptionist appeared. “Mr. Treb is ready for you. I’ll show you to his office.”

“Lead the way.” Harlow winked at her friend. With shoulders back and head held high, she followed the woman down the hall to Steven’s office.

With a quick knock on the door, followed by a muffled reply, she was whisked into the inner sanctuary, what Harlow secretly called ground zero, where some of the largest movie industry deals in the world were hammered out.

Steven Treb, a powerful, if not the most powerful director in Hollywood, was a creative genius at bringing movies to life. Harlow had worked with him on several large projects, including a City of Glass, and was thrilled she would, once again, be working alongside him.

He met her halfway and gave her a warm hug. “Harlow. It’s good to see you.”

“Thanks. Same here.” Harlow leaned back, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “You’re looking well, like you’ve been beach bumming.”

“Tahiti for Spring Break. Thanks for noticing.” Steven dismissed the receptionist, reminding her to close the door behind her.

“So…” He settled into his chair behind the desk. “How is your remote island paradise?”

“Warming up.” Harlow took the seat across from him and set her bag on the empty chair. “I’ve spent some of my hard-earned money on a fixer upper.”

“A new man project already?” Steven teased.

“Very funny.” Harlow wagged her finger. “No way. No how. In fact, the countdown has begun. Robert has only a few more months to manage my career before we part ways.”

Steven sobered. “He’s been all over town, marketing his up-and-coming starlet.”

“What did you think of her?”

“She’s drop dead gorgeous.” Steven described Cheyenne to a ‘t.’ “He claims he discovered her up in your neck of the woods.”

“Cheyenne Clifton,” Harlow said. “She’s a beautiful woman, but beautiful women are a dime a dozen.”

He leaned back in his chair, quietly contemplating Harlow. “I have to admit I was surprised to learn you two were close friends.”