Chapter 19
Harley
A Smile Costs Nothing
Ever since their ill-advised kiss, Kirsten’s been cold and spiky.
It bothers Harley more than it should, and he misses their budding friendship.
She accepts him for who he is, but also sees his potential to be a better man.
He’s never had that with a woman before.
Maybe he should try talking to her about what happened?
But he’s never been good at the kind of stuff and is afraid he’ll make things worse.
Wanting Rosie to be happy, because she’s a sweet kid (God knows why she’s so fond of him), he’s spent the morning setting up her birthday BBQ.
Now, he chuckles at how disproportionally delighted she is about his trimmed beard, motioning for him to lean over to run her fingers over the wiry bristles.
Something in his chest twists at the affection.
It’s compounded when Rosie lays her small hand over his sternum, declaring, ‘Your heart is good.’
Uncharacteristic tears rush to his eyes, and he blinks them away, incredibly grateful to his donor for the gift they’ve given him. Grateful to be alive. ‘I have two, and they both beat,’ he croaks.
Her blue eyes, so much like her mother’s, widen. ‘Wow. Where did your second heart come from? I only have one.’
‘Someone gave me their heart because they didn’t need it anymore.’
‘Why didn’t they?’
He walked into that one. Shit, Kirsten will kill him if she comes back to catch him explaining death to Rosie, especially on her sixth birthday. ‘Um, what I mean is, their heart was so big they leant me half.’ He wings it, hoping she’ll stop asking questions.
‘Oh. Was it an older girl?’ She tilts her head, curious.
‘Don’t know.’ It makes him feel ashamed. ‘Why?’
‘I can kind of… feel her. She has long black hair, blue eyes and is pale, like Snow White.’
His face drains of colour, the foggy dream from weeks ago resurfacing. ‘W-what?’
‘Who wants a drink, before our guests arrive?’ Albie strolls up.
Harley straightens, annoyed at the interruption because he’s caught up in Rosie’s vivid imagination.
Albie raises bushy eyebrows. ‘Are you alright? You’re a bit off-colour.’
Harley sees the genuine care in the older man’s eyes and feels the press of Rosie’s soft hand sliding into his, affection spiking in his chest. Is this place, these people and his extra heart healing him?
If so, he’s lucky to have ended up here.
‘I’m fine,’ he replies, mouth twitching into a smile. ‘Actually, I’m good.’
Later, there’s a commotion on the other side of the lawn.
Tori’s in the paddling pool struggling to untangle her wet T-shirt as a little boy runs off.
Ragged scars are visible, twisting across her abdomen.
Her expression’s filled with shame and embarrassment, and people are staring as Ethan holds his hand out to help.
Reacting instinctively, Harley jogs over, makes a cutting remark to the guests so interested in the view and drags his polo top over his head.
Offering a reassuring comment, he passes it to Tori, who yanks it down over her T-shirt and bolts.
He considers chasing after her, but Ethan beats him to it.
With a sigh, he finds everyone who’d been staring at Tori watching him with unabashed curiosity. He realises his baseball cap dropped to the floor when he whipped his top off. Do they recognise him? Flushing, he scoops it up and lopes away.
Hiding behind a dense patch of rose bushes in the walled garden, he thinks about the risk he just took. Idiot. Still, at least no one had their phones out. And as far as they know, he just looks a bit like a famous tennis star. Or if it is him, he could just be visiting for the day?
He jumps as a warm hand touches his bare shoulder.
‘That was so nice of you,’ Kirsten says as he swings around to face her. ‘I’m sure Tori appreciated it.’
There’s only a narrow slither of space between their bodies, and her eyes drop to the scar on his broad hair-roughened chest, before lowering to his toned stomach and the little arrow of hair trailing into his shorts. Going bright red, her breath hitches, lips parting.
She looks gorgeous in a cornflower-blue sundress which matches her eyes and shows off her curves, titian hair curling over her shoulders. He wants to kiss her again, but can’t, so grunts something unintelligible and steps back, trying to hide his body’s reaction to her proximity.
Interpreting the movement as rejection, she stiffens. ‘Never mind. I’ll leave you to it.’
Wow, you’ve got a way with women. The little female voice says dryly, as Kirsten stalks through the open gate without waiting for an answer.
Yeah, he sighs.
A few minutes later, Vanessa sashays into view. As usual, she looks like she’s just strolled out of a high-end boutique; blonde hair sleek, make-up flawless, tight high-necked dress outlining her petite frame.
‘It’s ironic, yes?’ Vanessa comments, stopping when she reaches him.
‘What is?’
‘You’re desperate not to be recognised, while I’d do anything to be noticed.’
‘By the media?’ Whenever he sees her, she’s posting on Instagram. The only reason he isn’t worried about his privacy is because she’s never tried taking pictures of him. It’s always pouting selfies.
She sighs. ‘No, by the only person who matters.’ Her eyes flicker towards her toddling son, who’s crouched on one of the paths playing with a handful of gravel.
‘Laurie adores you. He’s always following you around. It’s you who—’ He halts, aware he’s about to say something offensive.
‘Doesn’t seem to give a crap?’ She looks at him askance. ‘I love my son, but he wasn’t planned and being a single parent is lonely, and hard. And waiting for him to show up isn’t easy.’
‘Ah.’ Understanding dawns. ‘Laurie’s dad?’
‘Yes, the utter bastard.’ She seems to wilt, shoulders sagging.
Under the glamour image she cultivates, Harley sees a young woman struggling with her current reality, who needs buoying up. ‘When’s he due to visit?’
‘I don’t know,’ she whispers, staring at her shoes, ‘he’s not returning my calls.’
‘I’m sorry, that must be tough.’ He puts a comforting arm around her.
‘Look,’ he says gruffly, ‘you should spend time with us. We’re a good bunch, and there’s plenty to keep you busy around here.
Come to the next allotment session? It’d probably do you good, and I bet Laurie would love getting messy.
’ He doesn’t know where all this comes from, but it feels good to include her. It might help.
She wrinkles her nose. ‘Gardening isn’t my type of thing.’
Remembering Albie’s latest noticeboard message – a smile costs nothing – he smiles down at her, trying to channel reassurance.
‘Sometimes change can be good.’ His existence has changed radically since leaving London, but he feels settled, even if the thought of a relationship plunges him into turmoil.
‘Smiling can too,’ he adds. ‘It’ll make you feel better.
Did you know our bodies don’t know the difference between a real smile or a fake one?
The same endorphins are released. If you fake a smile for long enough, it becomes real.
’ Okay, he might have read a few articles from the gossip rag he snagged from Upston House.
Vanessa’s gaze moves up to his mouth. ‘Interesting.’
She leans closer and he shifts away, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. Even if he wanted her, which he doesn’t, she’s obviously vulnerable. He’s made that mistake before. Besides, if he’s going to kiss anyone, it would be—
‘Oh. Sorry to disturb you.’ Sarcasm drips off Kirsten’s normally mild tone as she jerks to a stop just inside the gate. ‘It’s cake time.’
‘Okay.’ Harley drops his arm from around Vanessa.
There’s an awkward silence before the other woman regains her normal verve, tossing her hair over her shoulder. ‘Thanks, Harley. I’ll give your question some thought.’
Sauntering over to her son, she picks him up and walks away with him on her hip, high heels and all.
Once she’s left the walled garden, Kirsten bites her lip. ‘What does Vanessa need to think about?’
Sharing the contents of their conversation would be a breach of privacy. She confided in him, and he doesn’t want to betray that. ‘Nothing much. Let’s go and see birthday girl.’
Kirsten crosses her arms, making her wonderful cleavage even more tempting, and Harley’s so distracted he barely hears her next question.
‘You asked her out, didn’t you?’
‘Hmmm… erm, what? No.’
‘Well, that was convincing.’
‘I didn’t, but if I had,’ irritation colours his voice, ‘it’d be no business of yours. We’re not together, and hardly likely to be.’
She flinches, hurt flooding her expression. ‘I see.’
‘I doubt it.’ Dating a neighbour would end in disaster. More importantly, with her shining brightness, inherent kindness and loving nature, she deserves far better than him.
You’re wrong, the voice announces.
At the same time, Kirsten scoffs. ‘You think you’re irresistible because of that face?
’ She points at his chiselled features and navy eyes.
‘It’s not just looks that make a man attractive.
Personality and quality of character count for a lot.
If a handsome guy behaves like an arsehole, I’m not interested.
I’d rather be with someone who’s average-looking and intelligent, thoughtful, generous—’
He snorts to cover up the gut-twisting idea of her with someone else. ‘That’s right, it’s all about money with you women—’
‘Don’t give me that sexist crap, you don’t believe it. And, I was going to say generous in terms of giving their time to helps others. Anyway, the point is, I’m not like the women who’ve made you believe all you can offer is fame and money.’
His ex-wife, and the women he had affairs with. ‘Yes,’ he agrees, ‘you’re not them.’ It only makes her more attractive, which scares him shitless. He still asks, ‘So, what do you want from a relationship?’
She goes quiet, temper draining away. ‘Someone who makes me feel special, and seen. A best friend who holds my hand, laughs through all the rubbish life throws at us and also wants to tumble me into bed.’
‘Well, I can’t give you that,’ he bites, ‘so I’m not what you’re looking for.’
Her spine stiffens. ‘How do you know, unless you try?’
He doesn’t have the words to explain why he can’t offer her the dream she’s craving. It’s both too simple, and too complicated.
At his silence, she swallows. ‘It’s always been obvious you think I’m not good enough for you. Well, don’t worry, I’ll leave you alone from now on.’
Her parting words stab at his chest as she walks away.
It’s him who’s not good enough for her, or her daughter.
In his old life, he made assistant producers cry while filming commercials, was dismissively rude to hospitality staff, treated ball boys and girls like crap (disappointment dimming their eyes upon realising one of their sporting heroes was an obnoxious bastard) and got a reputation for being difficult.
However, he could also be charming, so with his handsome face and incredible talent, people flocked to him.
Meaning industry insiders built up a wall of silence, and on the rare occasion a story slipped out about the more unpleasant aspects of his personality, the articles held an amused, indulgent air of boys will be boys.
Until that last round of articles, about Mia…
God, why hadn’t he realised how fragile she was?
He’d been a prize prick, and doesn’t think he’s that man anymore, but what if he can never step out of the shadow of his reputation? What if he’s incapable of loving another person wholeheartedly and putting their needs above his own?
Then he recalls the way he smiled at Vanessa to comfort her, because every day he refers to rules rooted in kindness and happiness. To cast a shadow, you first need to be standing in light. Yes, the voice urges, you’re almost there.
As he leaves the walled garden to go sing Happy Birthday to Rosie, he wonders who the hell painted the gate and washed down the brickwork.