Chapter 4
Harlow’s initial instinct was to pretend she didn’t notice Cheyenne. She began heading in the opposite direction.
The woman had other plans. She sauntered down the aisle, cutting off Harlow’s escape route. “Hello.”
“Hello.” Harlow greeted her, not smiling but not frowning. Neutral…a neutral greeting.
“You’re Robert’s ex-wife.”
“Robert Barbetz?” She feigned ignorance.
“Of course,” Cheyenne snapped. “Do you have another ex named Robert?”
Harlow quickly lost patience. “What is your point?”
Cheyenne changed the subject. “I heard you were in LA. I just got back myself, from the Studio City studios to be exact.” The woman waited for Harlow to ask her why.
She refused to take the bait. “Congratulations.” She started to sidestep the annoying woman.
Anticipating the move, Cheyenne blocked her path. “Don’t you want to know why?” She didn’t wait for Harlow to answer. “Robert is helping launch my acting career.”
“Into orbit?” Harlow mentally berated herself for stooping to the annoying woman’s level. Do NOT let her get under your skin.
“You think it’s a joke?” Cheyenne’s voice rose an octave, her eyes sparking with anger. “It’s only a matter of time before I’m offered a major movie deal.”
“It’s not as easy as you think.”
“Like you would know. If not for Robert, you would be a nobody.”
Harlow could feel the tips of her ears burn, furious that the woman had the nerve to tell her how she’d built her career. “And you have no clue what you’re talking about. Robert can open doors, but that’s it. You’ll have to put in the work, the time, the effort to make it happen.”
“Which I will,” she snidely replied. “I have every intention of becoming an even bigger star than you.”
Warning bells went off inside Harlow’s head.
Don’t go there. Walk away. Many times, more times than she could count, she’d done exactly that.
Paparazzi had a field day with spits, spats, conflicts and blowouts, which was why she did everything in her power to avoid confrontation.
But not this time. Cheyenne Clifton deserved to have the smug smile wiped off her face, and Harlow had every intention of being the one to do it.
“You filmed a commercial that hasn’t even aired.
Honey, you are miles away from becoming an A-list actor.
Let me give you a little free advice.” She clenched her jaw, struggling not to go off on the woman in a major way.
“Ditch the snotty, snooty, snobby attitude. Not only is it ugly, but it’s also a major flaw.
You’re just another pretty face, which are a dime a dozen in Hollywood. ”
Cheyenne ignored most of what Harlow said, except for one comment. “Who told you I filmed a commercial?” she demanded. “I never told you that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s the lowest rung on the ladder. You have a very long way to go. Based on your crappy attitude, I’m going to hedge my bets and say you will be an epic failure.” Using the shopping basket, she pushed her out of the way and strode to the checkout.
Still fuming over the woman’s arrogant and rude behavior, Harlow unloaded her groceries, silently counting to ten. She didn’t bother turning around to see if she was still there. It didn’t matter. Cheyenne Clifton was as awful as the rumors she’d heard.
If any director or talent agent took her on, Harlow had no doubt they would live to regret it.
*****
Abby clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes round as saucers. “Did you really tell Cheyenne she had a snotty, snooty attitude?”
“Snotty, snooty and snobby,” Harlow said. “I believe I also told her I thought she would be an epic failure based on her crappy attitude.”
Meg hooted loudly. “Oh, man. I wish I could’ve been there.”
“So do I,” Noelle said. “She deserved every single word you said.”
“And more,” Eryn added. “I can’t believe she had the nerve to tell you she would be a bigger star.”
“Not only bigger star but also insisting Robert was the reason I made it to where I am today,” Harlow said. “She gave him all the credit. In her defense, I’m sure he bragged about it and she bought it hook, line and sinker.”
“Welcome to the club.” Peyton lifted her hand. “The Cheyenne Clifton avoidance club.”
Harlow high fived her. “I do regret losing my cool. Hollywood is full of obnoxious people like her. I should not have let her get to me like that.”
Noelle patted her arm. “It’s happened to the best of us. Cheyenne has a way of getting under your skin.”
“On a more pleasant note, how is the LA apartment?” Abby asked.
“Vanilla.”
“Vanilla?”
“Boring. Plain. The view is okay. The furniture will do. It’s not cozy, warm or homey,” Harlow said. “But I’ll be close to work which is what’s most important.”
“The countdown has begun.” Meg made a tick-tock sound. “We can’t wait to hang out with you on the set.”
“It was cool to see.” Eryn filled them in, sharing a few details. The film, a rom-com chick flick, would be filmed downtown. “Steel City Wishes will be epic.”
While the women munched, they chatted about spring, the return of the tourists, Wynn Harbor Inn’s renovation project and island life in general.
Harlow gazed around the room at her close-knit group of friends. It seemed like only yesterday she’d returned to Mackinac Island, while there were other days when it felt as if she’d never left.
The more time she spent on the island, the more she realized the past few years had been spent living a superficial life in a make-believe world.
It was all about fortune and fame, money, hammering out the next big deal, living an ultra-luxurious lifestyle to impress people who wouldn’t think twice about stabbing you in the back.
Other than Janice, her publicist and Vic, her bodyguard, Harlow couldn’t think of a single person she considered a true ally. Maybe Steven.
Harlow had so many friends on the island she couldn’t keep track. Lottie, the Mackies, Marty, even Arlen from the bike shop. Salt of the earth people who would drop what they were doing to lend a hand to a friend in need.
“…at Lighthouse Lane?” Abby gazed at Harlow expectantly.
“Huh?”
“Did you hear a word I said?”
“No. I was thinking about how happy I am to be back and my mind started wandering.”
“We were wondering how the reno was going.”
“Marty took me by on my way home from the airport. He offered to stop but I didn’t want to distract the workers.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday. Maybe we can go check it out in the afternoon,” Peyton hinted.
“Morgan and Brett Easton are coming by to see Dad. How does early afternoon sound?” Harlow threw out a tentative time. “We can meet there.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
The gathering ended. Harlow, who had ridden her pedal bike into town, left the leftover dip and chips and headed out. During the ride, she thought about her confrontation with Cheyenne, still disappointed in herself for letting the woman get under her skin.
She wondered what Robert had promised her. Multi-million dollar deals? Her name on the Hollywood Walk of Fame? Invitations to the Oscars or Emmys?
Back home, she parked her bike alongside the house and slipped inside. Although she couldn’t see them, she heard the tinkle of Lottie’s laughter followed by David’s deep voice.
Tiptoeing through the house, she sneaked into her room, quietly closing the door behind her so she wouldn’t disturb them.
Harlow started to plug her cell phone into the charger when she noticed she’d missed a call from Robert. There were also two texts. The first read, call me. The second, sent seconds later, sounded a little more urgent: call me ASAP.
A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Harlow had no doubt what the call and texts were about—Cheyenne.