Chapter 23
Peyton breezed through the living room and placed her fresh-from-the-oven baked macaroni and cheese on the counter. “I’ve heard of movie premieres but never a commercial watch party.”
“It oughta be good.” Noelle, who hitched a ride with Peyton, eased her contribution, a slow cooker filled with meatballs, next to it. “I don’t know who came up with the idea for a potluck preview, but they’re a genius.”
“It was mine,” Harlow said. “In full disclosure, my motives were entirely selfish. All of you are fabulous cooks, and I was hungry.”
“Any excuse for a celebration and get-together is okay in my book.” Eryn set a serving spoon on top of her deviled eggs, right next to Abby’s cheesy potato casserole. “Uh-oh. No dessert?”
“I made a slow-cooker peach cobbler.” Harlow pinched her fingers together. “I can’t take all the credit. Dad helped me.”
Lottie gave her a quick hug. “You keep telling us what a terrible cook you are but then come up with amazing dishes.”
“You haven’t tasted it yet,” she warned. “Although I must admit it was super easy, and it looks delish.”
The friends lined up along the counter, loading their plates with food before gathering in the living room.
Harlow tracked down the remote and scrolled through the apps until she found the YouTube link. Pulling up the popular site, she tapped the audio button. Using the voice command, she rattled off the product name. A screen full of ads touting the drug appeared. “Great. There’s a bunch of them.”
“You might need to narrow it down by most recent,” Meg suggested.
“Right.” Harlow repeated the voice command. “Abuttrezil recent commercial.”
A full-screen image of Cheyenne, seated on the bike, appeared.
Noelle clutched her chest, making a gagging sound. “What is that woman wearing?”
“Inappropriate attire,” Meg said.
“She looks like a clown,” Abby chimed in. “Didn’t you say Robert, your ex, got her this gig?”
“He did.”
“What was he thinking?”
“Good question, and I have no idea,” Harlow replied.
“Based on the shenanigans she’s up to now, it should be prison orange,” Peyton said.
“I’m not sure if she was the one who broke into my house,” Harlow said. “Although I have my suspicions.”
Cheyenne started humming her creepy tune. Down the street and around the vehicle she pedaled until the moment of discomfort struck. Her tranquil smile disappeared.
The bike’s handlebars wobbled. Cheyenne struggled to keep it upright. Her expression morphed into what could only be described as severe discomfort.
The bike fell sideways. Cheyenne, quick on her feet, let it hit the ground. With a grimace she hobbled to the sidewalk, wincing in pain.
The voice-over started his spiel about the benefits of the product. Cheyenne popped a tablet and sipped the bottled water. She returned to her bike and rode off into the sunset while the announcer listed the drug’s possible side effects.
“And that’s a wrap.” Harlow hit the power button.
“I’ll say one thing…it’s memorable,” Lottie said.
“What’s up with the weird outfit and creepy humming?” Eryn frowned. “She looks psycho.”
“If that’s the best she has, you have nothing, and I do mean nothing to worry about,” Peyton said.
“In her defense, Robert should have given her some better advice, made her ditch the weird humming and change into more suitable attire.”
Noelle’s lower lip trembled. She burst out laughing. “A pain in the butt filmed a butt relief product. You can’t even make this up.”
“Your ex must’ve worked hard to get that little gem approved,” Abby said.
“No kidding.” Harlow changed the subject. “Back to the break-in. The job-site supervisor called right before you guys got here. He’s adding his own temporary alarm system at Lighthouse Lane.”
“We don’t hear too much about theft and thieves on the island,” Meg said. “But you being a household name could be attracting unwanted attention.”
“I suppose encouraging Marty to start offering tours and taking visitors by my new place might not have been the brightest idea.”
“Do you think it would have mattered?” Peyton asked.
“From previous experience, probably not. This is a reminder that I need to install my whiz-bang state-of-the-art cameras and security system before I move in.” Harlow finished her macaroni and cheese and stood. “I’m tempted to go for seconds, but I want to try the cobbler.”
The Mackies gathered in the kitchen, each taking a generous portion of Harlow’s homemade dessert. She grabbed a container of vanilla bean ice cream from the freezer and scooped it onto the sides of their plates.
“This is super yummy.” Meg filled her spoon with the cobbler and added a bite of ice cream. “How easy is easy to make?”
“Three ingredients easy—butter, spice cake mix, and a can of peaches. I also added cinnamon sugar and brown sugar, but those are optional. Layer it in the slow cooker, bake it for a couple of hours, and you have a one pot sweet treat. Like I said, I can’t take most of the credit. It’s Dad’s recipe, and he helped.”
Noelle took a big bite, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I do declare Harlow is tapping into her domestic side.”
“Cooking, hosting a potluck, gardening,” Lottie teased. “She won’t know how to act when she’s around the glitz and glam of the highfalutin Hollywood scene.”
“Believe me, I would rather be with you guys any day.” Harlow gazed around the room at the faces of her friends, her cheering section, those who had, in a short amount of time, become her go-to gals.
There wasn’t a single woman standing in front of her she didn’t trust implicitly, to confide in, to share her dreams and plans for the future.
They had her back, and if they ever needed her, she would be right there at the drop of a hat. Hollywood seemed a million miles away and with each passing day she fell in love, once again, with the most magical place on the planet—her beloved Mackinac Island.
The end.