Chapter 2
Harlow stared at Steven. “Who told you Cheyenne Clifton and I were friends?”
“Robert.” A slow smile spread across the director’s face. “Judging by your reaction, it isn’t true. I figured as much.”
“I hardly know her. She has a reputation around the island for being…difficult.”
“I like to think I’m a good judge of character. She seems a little high maintenance based on a few of her comments during our brief introduction, while your ex was pitching her potential.”
“Like I said, I don’t know her well, but snooty, arrogant, snobby are all words that have been tossed around.” Harlow shifted. “I am curious.”
“I know what you’re going to say. Do I think she has what it takes?”
She nodded.
“Maybe. We didn’t chat long enough for me to form a final opinion.
” Steven tipped his hand back and forth.
“She has a little sparkle. Does she have Harlow Wynn’s sparkle?
Not a chance, although I glimpsed a glimmer of Hollywood grit and determination.
I could envision her clawing her way to the top. ”
“Robert knows how to pick them.”
“He knocked it out of the park with you.” Steven reached into his desk drawer, removed a clipped set of papers and slid them toward her. “Do you mind doing a quick reading for me? I want to get a feel for your character.”
“I would love to.” Harlow sprang to her feet, grabbed the papers and instantly immersed herself in her role, becoming her character and forgetting all about Robert.
She became so engrossed that the scene ended almost as quickly as it began.
Steven rose to his feet and clapped loudly. “Bravo. You nailed it. This role was made for you.”
“Thanks.” Harlow’s eyes shone brightly. “I can’t wait to start filming. I’ve been rehearsing and memorizing my lines every day.”
“It shows. That’s one of the many things I love and admire about you. You’re the most un-Hollywood star I know. You work your butt off, giving your adoring fans your all.”
Knock. Knock. Steven’s door opened. The receptionist peeked around the corner. “Your next appointment is here.”
“Thanks, Kara. Give me five.”
“Will do.”
He escorted Harlow across the room. “About Robert.”
“Yes?”
“He landed Cheyenne an audition and a commercial.”
Harlow arched her eyebrow. “When?”
“It’s already been filmed. He hasn’t gotten the final approval and asked me if I would critique it to give Cheyenne some pointers in the event it gets axed.”
“Have you?”
“Not yet. He sent it over yesterday. I told Robert I would give constructive feedback by tomorrow.”
“What kind of commercial?”
“To be honest, I was in the middle of something else and have no idea,” Steven said. “He’s pushing hard to get her foot in the door.”
“Robert is panicking. He knows he’s running out of time,” she said. “Six months and his gravy train has left the station.”
He laughed out loud. “Then he’s definitely scrambling. See you in Pittsburgh.”
“I can’t wait.” Harlow made her way back to the lobby, thinking about what Steven had said and curious to find out if Cheyenne was on her way to getting her first break in the biz. Robert was trying his hardest, at least Steven thought so, and he would know.
Reaching the lobby, she found Eryn staring at her phone, an empty coffee cup on the table next to her. She noticed Harlow and jumped to her feet. “All done?”
“I’ve finished my last meeting and am ready for a long, sweaty workout before we paint Tinseltown red.”
*****
Marty, her friend and island taxi driver, hoisted Harlow’s bag into the back while she climbed the step and boarded the horse-drawn wagon. “How was your trip?”
“A whirlwind. Eryn and I visited the movie set in Pittsburgh and then flew to LA to meet with the director and get the keys to my apartment.”
After loading the bag, he climbed onto the bench seat beside her. “Bummer.”
“What’s a bummer?”
“You’re leaving soon. Those extra side tours past Lighthouse Lane and Wynn Harbor Inn are going to tank which means the ka-ching I’ve been pocketing will be history.”
Several weeks ago, after catching wind that visitors were arriving with a single goal in mind—to catch a glimpse of the elusive Harlow Wynn, she’d jokingly suggested that Marty start a side gig, picking people up at the docks and giving them a tour of the island including Harlow’s recently-purchased cottage and her father’s place.
It had worked like gangbusters. After he finished his day job, Marty and his horse, Chance, spent the evenings raking in a tidy chunk of change.
She’d even suggested he let them know he was a personal friend of Harlow’s, which gave him an edge over others who had also jumped on the “bandwagon” and started offering custom tours.
“No way. You can still take them past Lighthouse Lane and Dad’s place.” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “You don’t have to let them know I’m out of town.”
“Good point.” Marty brightened. “I could even add Cheyenne Clifton’s apartment to the tour route. I heard she’s on the verge of becoming a household name.”
Harlow thought about her meeting with Steven the previous day, how Robert had forwarded the woman’s commercial, asking for feedback.
She’d tried convincing herself she wasn’t the least bit interested, but the nagging thought that her ex was working overtime, trying to launch Cheyenne’s career was concerning.
He had other, more important tasks, to worry about—mainly focusing his energy on Harlow’s top-tier career.
She pointedly changed the subject, asking him if he’d noticed the construction crews at Lighthouse Lane.
“Yes, ma’am. They had a couple of big dumpsters delivered. Looks like they’re almost done gutting the inside.”
“Hopefully not completely gutting, but removing all the old paneling, flooring, cabinets and cupboards.” As soon as Harlow had closed on the cottage, she’d promptly contacted the general contractor and pulled the trigger.
“We can take the long way home and do a drive by,” Marty offered.
“That would be awesome.” Harlow clapped her hands.
“Your wish is my command.” He guided his horse down a side street, taking the back way to the less populated part of the island. As they drew closer, she leaned forward, eager for her first glimpse. They rounded the bend, and Lighthouse Lane came into view.
No longer desolate and abandoned, the property was a beehive of activity. The dumpsters Marty had mentioned sat off to the side, one of them already filled to the brim. She could see several workers moving around downstairs.
He tugged on the reins, slowing Chance. “Do you want to stop?”
“As much as I would love to, I don’t want to become a distraction.”
They continued on the paved road that skirted the shoreline until reaching the edge of her father’s property. The yard and gardens were finally showing signs of coming back to life.
Soon, the island would be filled with brilliant colors—tulips blooming in every shade imaginable, followed by the fragrant aroma of lilacs.
The chilly air would eventually give way to warm, sunny summer days.
Tourists would return after a long winter, eager to immerse themselves in all Mackinac Island had to offer.
Chance stopped in front of the gate. Marty hopped down, unloaded Harlow’s bags and waited for her on the sidewalk. “Do you need me to help with your luggage?”
Harlow plucked some cash from her pocket and handed it to him. “I’ve got it. Thanks for the lift.”
After Marty left, Harlow steered her luggage through the gate, noticing Lottie Fletcher, the inn’s gardener who was also a close family friend, had already added a layer of fresh mulch to the sprawling gardens.
With each step, she could feel the whirlwind trip and stress of the past week fade, reminding her once again how different her two worlds were.
Breezing through the second gate, her sharp eye noticed the welcome mat was missing from the cottage where her Aunt Birdie had been hanging her hat during the long winter months.
Dragging her suitcase up the steps, Harlow eased her father’s front door open. “I’m home.”
A flash of gray and white, a big ball of fur barreled toward Harlow. Mort, the family mutt, nearly knocked her over in his excitement. With tail whipping, he jumped on her, simultaneously slobbering on her arm.
“Hey, Mort,” Harlow giggled. “It’s good to be home.”
David Wynn appeared. “I was just getting ready to send you a text.”
“Marty and I drove by Lighthouse Lane.” Harlow scratched the pup’s ears and patted his head. Easing her backpack off, she set it on the floor. “The construction crew isn’t wasting any time.”
“I’ve gone by there every day. At this rate, they’ll have the place ready for you to move in by the 4th of July.”
“I would like nothing more, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up. Tearing stuff out is the easy part. Putting it back together is where it gets tricky.” She bounced on the tips of her toes and hugged her father. “Did you miss me?”
“Like a bad case of poison ivy,” he joked. “Of course. It’s been way too quiet. How did your meeting with the studio’s big cheese go?”
“As smooth as butter. My scene reading went off without a hitch. I’m off the hook now until I show up on the set.”
“And Eryn?” David followed his daughter through the living room.
“She’s on her way to her place. We had a nice dinner last night before hitting some popular hot spots. She got to tour the apartment I rented in Studio City. I also talked to Robert, but only once. He wanted to know how it was going.”
“How is he? Still annoying, I’m sure.”
“We had a few tense moments. I survived.”
David cleared his throat, looking as if he wanted to say something.
“What is it?” Harlow prompted.
“I met with Caleb and Jim Cook, the fire investigator, while you were gone.”
“And?”
“We may have found something.”
Harlow studied her father’s face, searching for clues about what was coming next. “Found what?”
“I think it would be best to show you,” David said. “To be honest, I’m still trying to figure out if it means anything.”