Chapter 5
“Hello, Robert.”
“Hello, Harlow.” Robert’s tone echoed over the line. Crisp, clipped, and to the point. “I trust your meeting with Steven Treb went well.”
“It did. Everything is running on schedule.”
“And the recce?”
“Recce,” short for reconnaissance, was slang for the cast and crew who visited a movie set to familiarize themselves with it.
For Harlow, it also helped her visualize her part while practicing her lines.
“It went well. The location is perfect. I plan to be in Pittsburgh in roughly four weeks to start filming,” she replied. “What’s up?”
“Cheyenne Clifton called me. She said she ran into you in the grocery store and you were rude to her.”
“I was rude?” Harlow asked incredulously. “She cornered me by the deli and started talking smack, how she was going to be a big star and insisting you’re the only reason I’m a household name, basically trying to annoy me. She succeeded.”
“Who told you she filmed a commercial?”
“Hollywood is a small town. People talk. I also heard there may be an issue, and it hasn’t made it through the final approval stage.”
“It’s in the works. Look, there’s no reason to be mean to Cheyenne. I’m honestly surprised by your behavior.”
“My behavior?” Harlow gasped.
“You could have offered her some encouragement. You know how cutthroat this business is.”
“As snarky as Cheyenne is, she should fit right in. She might have the looks, but I can assure you of one thing…unless she ditches her snobby attitude, she’s going to have a tough time.”
“She’s a sweetheart. Perhaps the issue is you,” Robert snidely replied. “Cheyenne is responding to how you treated her.”
“She’s the one who stopped me, trying to rub it in my face.
Look, you can promote, manage, pimp any person you want, but I can tell you one thing: Ms. Clifton has a reputation around Mackinac for being rude and arrogant.
If she doesn’t lose the attitude, you’ll be wasting your time. ” Harlow tapped the end call button.
Resisting the urge to throw her phone against the wall, she carefully plugged it into the charger instead. “You’ve been warned, Robert. What you choose to do with my warning is entirely up to you.”
Still fuming over the verbal confrontation, Harlow picked up her manuscript and began rehearsing her lines. Throwing herself into her acting part, Cheyenne and her ex were soon far from her mind.
*****
Later that evening, while Harlow was getting ready for bed, she replayed her conversations with Cheyenne and Robert. No wonder they hit it off. They were two peas in a pod.
Despite the early morning, long flight, and long day, Harlow tossed and turned. She woke early the next morning to find Mort with his head on the edge of the bed, staring intently at her, as if willing her to wake up.
Harlow reached out and playfully tugged on his floppy ear. “How long have you been waiting for me to open my eyes?”
He sank down onto all four paws, watching as she flung the covers back and plodded to the bathroom.
A splash of cold water on her face and she was wide awake. Harlow threw on a pair of sweatpants and T-shirt, before exiting her bedroom. She and Mort followed the tantalizing aroma of frying bacon through the house and into the kitchen.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
“Hey, Pops.” Harlow shuffled past her father, giving him a gentle nudge on her way to the coffee pot. “What do you mean sleepyhead? It’s only seven.”
“I’ve been up since five.”
“Why?” She filled an empty cup and leaned her hip against the counter.
“I got up to go to the bathroom and couldn’t go back to sleep.”
“I had a rough one myself.” Harlow told him about running into Cheyenne and her conversation with Robert. “I’m curious to see how this plays out. He can’t say I didn’t warn him.”
“I’ll admit, I’ve heard the rumors myself. Cheyenne must be telling anyone and everyone who will listen that she’s filming in Hollywood.”
“Filming a commercial which hasn’t been approved or officially made the cut.” Harlow cradled her cup. “I wonder what kind.”
“You should’ve asked Robert to elaborate.”
A sudden thought, an idea, popped into her head. “Actually, I have an idea about how to get my hands on a copy.”
David removed the sizzling bacon from the burner. “All I have left is to cook some eggs.”
“I’ll help.” Harlow sprang into action. She melted butter in a pan before cracking the eggs and attempting to master the art of “sunny side up.” Failing miserably, she gave up and ended up scrambling them.
“I hope you don’t mind scrambled eggs.” She showed her father the pan’s contents. “At least I didn’t burn them.”
“They look perfect to me.” David grabbed a couple of clean plates and filled both while Harlow poured juice and set the table.
“What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Morgan and Brett Easton will be here around ten thirty to meet and go over the final blueprints for the reconstruction project.”
“You’re right. I almost forgot.”
“They’re flying in on a private jet. Chester and Tristan will be with them,” he reminded her.
“Did you hear that?” She fed the pup some of her eggs. “Chester is coming for a visit. You’ll like him, Mort.”
“Are you hanging around?”
“Absolutely, I want to meet Tristan. I would also like to get a feel for how the project is progressing. I need to spend some time practicing my lines. The Mackies and I are meeting at Lighthouse Lane early afternoon to check out the progress.”
“Have you seen your Aunt Birdie since you got back?”
“No. She wasn’t home when Mort and I went for our walk yesterday.”
“I’m sure you’ll run into her sooner or later.”
A rustling ensued, coming from the direction of the front door. Mort scrambled to his feet and took off.
“Sooner it is. She said she was stopping by to drop off the mail.”
Harlow’s Aunt Birdie breezed into the dining room. “Harlow, my dear. Welcome home.”
“Thanks.” Harlow hopped out of her chair and hugged her aunt. “Mort and I stopped by to see you yesterday but you were gone.”
“I had some errands to run on the mainland. Are you home for a while?”
“A month and then I’m heading to Pittsburgh to start filming.”
“Good for you. I heard Cheyenne is invading your territory.”
Harlow rolled her eyes. “She cornered me at the Corner Grocery last night, bragging about her Hollywood career taking off.”
“Would you like some breakfast?” David shoved his chair back. “We have plenty.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“Since when?” he teased.
“Good point. I’ll fix my own plate.” Aunt Birdie draped her jacket on a barstool and filled a plate before taking an empty chair next to her niece. “So it’s true?”
“About Cheyenne?” Harlow asked.
“Mmm. Hmm.”
“According to Steven, one of the top directors, she filmed a commercial but it hasn’t been released.”
“Because…”
“It hasn’t been approved. There could be a problem. I mean, some of them sail right through while others get flagged for issues.”
“Meaning it sucks,” Aunt Birdie guessed.
Harlow grinned. “To put it bluntly, it’s entirely possible.”
“Too bad we don’t have a copy.”
“Actually, I might be able to get my hands on one from my publicist, Janice. She has connections.”
The conversation shifted to the weather, spring plantings and Aunt Birdie’s next trip.
“Dad said your next trip is in the works.”
“My flight leaves tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?” David set his fork on the table. “You mentioned you were getting a little restless. I had no idea you already had one foot out the door.”
“I’m no spring chicken. Time is of the essence. I either use it or lose it.”
“Where are you going?” Harlow asked.
“Take a wild guess. It’s somewhere warm.”
“Tahiti.”
“Nope.”
“Hawaii.”
“No, but it was in the running.”
“Caribbean.”
Birdie made a thumbs down.
“Another cruise, to replace the one you cut short because of my car accident,” Harlow said.
“I have a cruise booked for this fall. I’m traveling to Cuba.”
“Cuba,” Harlow and her father said in unison.
“What on earth is in Cuba?”
“Humanitarian aid. I’ll be supporting the Cuban people.” Birdie went into a detailed explanation about how travel was restricted but allowed if you submitted an itinerary and could prove you planned to support the community and island businesses.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” her brother asked. “The infrastructure sounds…unstable.”
“Along with other major issues,” Harlow added.
“I’m traveling with a close friend, a Cuban. She’s very familiar with all aspects including potential risks of traveling there. I’m confident we’ll be safe.”
“But the monetary system.”
“I’ll be bringing cash,” Birdie said. “The whole island is experiencing power outages and has limited internet so if you don’t hear from me for a while it’s because I can’t communicate.”
Harlow tightened her grip on her coffee cup. “Now, I really am worried.”
“Same,” David said. “You’re a grown woman. I can’t stop you but still…”
Her aunt waved dismissively. “I’m old. One of my goals in life is to do good with my money. I can’t think of a better way than to help the less fortunate.”
“Your heart is in the right place,” Harlow said. “At least you’re traveling with someone who is familiar with Cuba but please, keep us in the loop so we don’t worry.”
“As much as I can. It’ll be the trip of a lifetime.”
After Aunt Birdie left to finish her laundry, David and Harlow cleaned the kitchen, both agreeing they were concerned about Aunt Birdie’s trip.
“I hope she has an epic adventure.” Harlow finished wiping the counter and draped the dishrag over the sink divider.
A tiny inkling of foreboding crept into her mind.
It was one thing to jet around the world, but traveling to a country in crisis?
A major cause for concern, at least in Harlow’s mind.