Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
HARMONY
Harmony didn’t have a lot of practice not lying, so she struggled to think of how to clean things up in the whole honesty department with Preston while she began collecting payments from vendors for the festival and putting in orders with the local printers and other suppliers she’d signed on. This only made her feel worse, when she was already stewing over having woven such a skillful web of lies, which she now had to figure out a way to untangle—truly, she was her most formidable opponent, the only one she’d ever feared losing to.
Because as she went around Brookville now, people kept asking after Preston—word of Library Fight Night had gotten out—or sharing about how their kids who’d made it into the youth stage program were practicing regularly, or shouting Go, Bobcats! as if she might cheer back, or inviting her to their cousin’s big birthday party that everyone was coming to (this from the owners of the Thai place, and she said yes, and asked if she could bring Preston). She was going to pay everyone back with Travis’s money, but that same feeling of not wanting to lie was spreading to her interactions with the community she’d stolen into the past couple months. Was this how other people felt all the time? Ugh, no wonder Preston was so stressed out.
She hadn’t gotten anywhere with ideas when it was time for Dani’s show, and she, Preston, Lacey, and Alice drove out to the coast to support her. They made a tour around all of Dani’s pieces shown off perfectly in the big white gallery, looking rich and mingling as Dani had instructed them ahead of time, ending at the table set out with hors d’oeuvres and champagne. Lacey took one look at the plates of tiny sesame cakes, mushrooms stuffed with cheese and walnuts, and squares of dark chocolate, and immediately made for the gallery’s outdoor sculpture garden.
“At least we can all agree on this candy and its being the worst,” Preston said, passing glasses of champagne to Harmony and Alice. The bruise along the side of his nose and under his eye was a mostly faded yellowish-green.
Harmony sipped her drink and nodded. “Dark chocolate tastes like dirt and dashed hopes.”
“Like the void,” Alice agreed.
“Like adulting.”
Preston bit into a sesame cake and smiled. “I dare you to eat a piece.”
“No way, Presto-Chango.” Harmony poked him in the lapel of his houndstooth coat.
He grimaced, with a gleam in his eye. “When did you get so picky about terrible candy? You love terrible candy.”
“Black licorice is supposed to taste like anise and shoe leather, that’s how you know it’s the good stuff.”
They mingled a while longer—Alice wandered off nearer a guy who was exploring the gallery solo. Evan had better watch out, she was about due to fall in love with someone new again. When there was a lull in the clump of people surrounding Dani, they got to congratulate her. Before getting pulled away by some more patrons, Dani turned to the baby grand piano in the corner of the gallery and said, “Preston, I think some music would really add an ‘I’m feeling so rich I think I’ll buy this sculpture’ element to the ambiance, don’t you?”
“Fine. Because it’s your big day.” He gave Harmony’s hand a squeeze. “Didn’t mean to abandon you.”
“You’re going to be happier over there rather than making any more small talk, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ve got Alice, go make Dani happy.”
“Always the wise choice.”
Soon the gallery was washed in his playing, something gentle and classical. Harmony played her part, in her sage green A-line and Louboutins, looking interested in pieces and making small talk carefully aimed to drive a sense of urgency for snapping one up into anyone within hearing. Keeping Dani happy seemed especially smart if she’d ever threatened to make fired pottery out of you.
When she wandered back over from a far corner to deposit her champagne glass, she couldn’t help pausing to watch Preston play, because damn it really was impressive how he just did that, though of course he didn’t just do that, he’d practiced for years because he was dedicated and talented and, yeah, she was pretty much just staring at his hands now.
She also couldn’t help catching Preston’s eye when he glanced up, through the crowd mingling between them, and doing a subtle dance to whatever he was playing by Beethoven or Bach or whoever that other guy whose name started with B was. Preston’s mouth twisted in a smile as he looked back down at the piano, and the music shifted to a soft instrumental version of “Everything’s Coming Up Roses.”
Something hitched in Harmony’s chest. He’d remembered her starring role. Played one of her big songs just for her, like a secret between them in this crowded gallery, because he knew her, the real her, and liked her enough to hold on to that little detail she’d trusted him with.
Oh, no. Feelings. Welling up in her, only growing more inescapable when Preston went on to play some of the other show tunes from her playlist. Even Webber. Harmony clutched her champagne flute and blinked back tears. Because she’d just realized two things.
Alice sidled up to her. “Oh, sweetie, you okay?”
“No,” Harmony sniffed. “I’m in love with that total dork over there.”
“Aw, hon .” Alice put her arm around her shoulders.
“What am I gonna do?” She knew, though. Exactly what had to happen. And it scared her so, so much. She’d been fooling herself, trying to avoid the truth.
Alice drew a deep breath and looked over at Preston. “Well, maybe if you got him to do his hair different and lose the tweed—”
“Not that!” She turned to Alice, biting her lip. “I think I need to make the festival real.”
Alice’s face drew long with shock. But no one was more surprised than Harmony. She was trying not to think too hard about her dad. She was just going to have to find another way to make things up to him, to give Travis what he deserved.
She grabbed Alice’s hand. “Will you help me? Please? I know you’ve been stuck working at the coffee shop for months so if there’s anything at all that comes from this you’ll still get your cut—”
Her friend’s shoulders went slack as she sighed. “Of course. Don’t worry about that. You know I’ve always got your back.”
But it wasn’t going to be easy, not even with Alice’s expertise with all the permits and paperwork. They got together the next day at Harmony’s hotel to go over everything. Harmony stared down the documents spread over her bed while Alice dug around on her computer. There had to be a way to pull this off. “No loopholes?”
“Hon, all your funds are going to be tied up with this thing, beyond what you’ve already laid out in deposits. You always said it was the biggest play you’d ever make. If we actually do this, we’ll need trailers and stages and lighting … And it’s going to cost more to put a rush on the paperwork we need pushed through fast.”
Because they’d been faking it before and were running out of time. Harmony resisted the urge to flop on the bed, on top of all the useless papers. “Withdraw everything from my emergency savings too.”
“I have . Maybe if you didn’t have such a habit of giving most of your hauls to your marks’ victims …” Alice frowned at her screen. “With what’s left of the booth fees, and if we could sell streaming and sponsorship rights, I think we can get the last of it in order for permissions and supplies and hiring on staff, but it’s not going to mean much without, you know, actual music at the music festival.”
The problem was the headliner. They could rope in smaller acts with a big name, but Harmony had no money left to get someone with that kind of draw last minute. She stifled a laugh. This was her own con playing out against herself. “I’m going to have to ask Travis still. To cover the headliner.” And then hire one for real, which Harmony didn’t actually know how to do. That probably was going to mean needing even more money.
She was going to have to tap dance for her life when she went to Travis. Fuck.
Sinking into a chair, she told Alice, “Thanks for doing what you could.”
Alice gave her a weak smile over her laptop. “You’ve got a lot of the work done already, hon. Like, it was fake, but you’re really good at this, it’s all put together. I’ll keep working on the rest, ticketing and all that. You go get that money.”
So on Monday Harmony called the mayor’s office and made an appointment. Then she called Café Marotta and made a reservation, because she’d realized one more thing: she needed to make things real with Preston too. If this was all going to be worth it, she had to see if he was even interested in her staying around longer. Obviously Harmony was a catch, but while she’d tried to make it clear she was in it for real now, they’d started things all wrong with her grifting and maybe Preston was happy to have something uncomplicated in his complicated life for a while, assuming she’d be jetting off to the next event to plan, the next concert to promote. But maybe he’d be open to more. Harmony definitely didn’t pace around her hotel room while making the reservation wondering which it was.
Plus, Preston liked mushy things, according to Lacey, and had missed out on the dinner he’d planned twice. And then played all those stupid romantic songs and activated her conscience and ruined her life, basically. So she got in touch with Dani about taking Lacey home after one of Preston’s later shifts on a day he didn’t have lessons to give, and showed up at the library Wednesday evening to surprise him.
His brow furrowed when he saw her. But then one eyebrow rose, along with one side of his mouth, in a pleased, surprised smile, when she explained the plan. After they said hi to Dani, who’d come in to find Lacey, they headed outside and Preston told Harmony, “I thought maybe I’d forgotten we were meeting.”
“Nope.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “This is a librarian kidnapping. You’ve evaded us twice before, but there’s no escape this time.” She dug out her keys while walking to Furiosa’s driver’s side.
“Oh, no,” he said flatly, sliding into the car next to her. “I surrender.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “But I’m paying.”
And what with her plan to no longer ride off into the sunset with Travis’s millions, Harmony couldn’t exactly argue. “Well, yeah, kidnappers don’t pay the ransom, don’t you know that? It’s like you’ve never even been kidnapped before.”
Café Marotta was pretty nice, with an outdoor patio full of potted trees and twinkle lights strung between them, and a large fountain in the middle, which they were seated near. As they ordered wine, she noticed Jordan and Nina at a table in the back of the patio, tucked behind a tall fern. Clearly this was the place for couples.
Which was what she and Preston were. For now. For longer? Harmony wiped her hands down her thighs, over her circle skirt. And then, for some reason, she reached out to Preston, smiling at her across the table, and tapped his nose.
He blinked. “You booped me.”
“I did.”
“On the nose.”
“That’s traditionally where boopings occur.” Yup, this was going great so far.
Said nose wrinkled. “Like a dog.”
“Like an adorable, infuriating librarian.” She wanted to say boyfriend because she had never been more impatient in her life, but that had to wait until her meeting with Travis, until she’d magicked all the lies between them to truth. Soon. “I’m just glad to see that bruise is clearing up.”
“Same, although it might have made for good theater at the inquiry.”
“How’s that coming?”
He waited while their server brought a basket of bread and poured their wine. “I have all the data gathered on circulation of the contested books, attendance at the events, plus any relevant info from the ALA, the town charter, state law. I’m putting it all together now.”
“You’re going to do great.”
“I hope so.” He glanced over at the teenagers holding hands over their table. “Everyone likes to say how kids are going to grow up and save the world, but it’s kind of bullshit. We should try at least to make it better for them now.”
Harmony nodded, glad she was making the festival real—that she wouldn’t have to disappoint the kids, who’d been working so hard. She peered at Preston over her wine glass. “If you get nervous you can always picture me in my underwear.”
He lifted his own glass. “Oh, I already do that at all times, anyway. But thanks.”
She smiled, waiting until he’d taken a drink to say, “You include the underwear? Honestly, I’m offended.”
He snorted into his wine. Setting it down, eyes crinkling as he smiled wide, he said, “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“Of course not. There’s only one me.” She tossed her hair. Then she twisted a finger through one lock and swallowed. This was the perfect chance to talk about what she wanted them to be. Or maybe it was the perfect chance to grab a bread stick and shove it in her mouth and not say anything at all because feelings were stupid and relationships were scary but bread—bread would always love you. Don’t be a coward , she told herself . Ugh, why was she so fabulous and brave? Fine . “You’re different from anyone I’ve been with too,” she began.
“Yeah.” He looked at where his fingers played with the edge of the napkin spilling from the bread basket. “Different.”
That had obviously come across wrong. “Like I’d fall for anyone who wasn’t exceptional?”
His gaze lifted to her face, that little surprised smile back again. “Fall for?”
She opened her mouth and was definitely going to say something more, but right then Travis Weaver came hustling through the patio, followed by his wife. They marched over to their daughter’s table, where Travis leaned over Nina, saying something low and sharp. Harmony couldn’t hear quite what, or Nina’s reply, and exchanged a concerned glance with Preston until their voices rose, and Cheryl joined in, saying through her teeth, “Why do you have to make things so hard for everyone?”
Travis was almost yelling now, while Nina stared into her lap. “You said you’d be at the school, yet here you are, hanging out again with this delinquent.”
Preston shoved his hand to the tablecloth, as if he was about to stand. But before he could move, Jordan threw down her napkin and jumped to her feet. “We are not! We’re not hanging out. We’re dating. Because, like she’s tried to tell you, Nina is gay. And we’re in love.”
Nina’s head snapped up.
“This is just a phase,” Cheryl huffed, glancing around at all the diners with forks frozen midair, gaping. “It’s trendy now.”
Travis shook a finger. “But it’s going to tank her options for political office.”
Nina seemed to erupt, standing beside Jordan, stamping a foot, hands clenching the air. “Fuck!”
Her parents’ jaws dropped. Jordan actually gasped.
“Who cares! Maybe I don’t want to be governor or whatever! I just want to be who I am.” Nina grabbed Jordan’s hand. “And stop calling my girlfriend names.”
“Come on, Nina.” Travis smoothed down his suit jacket. “We’re going home.”
“I am not.”
“Well, I am not paying for your credit card if you’re going to run around town like this. I paused it on the drive over. So unless you want to wash dishes for your meal, it’s time to go.”
Nina’s jaw trembled. She turned to Jordan. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I guess we have to leave.”
Oh, hell no. Harmony was already standing before she realized it. “Mr. Mayor.” She crossed the courtyard, sucking her teeth. “If you’d be so good as to let everyone get back to their dinners, I’d be happy to pay for this nice young couple’s meal.” Might as well throw around her last few dollars for a good cause.
Travis barely looked at her. “You stay out of this. This is family business.”
“No, this is a restaurant. And this is my intern. Who has been doing an excellent job for a world-class event. Who is nearly an adult.” She really should not be pissing Travis off, not ahead of their meeting with everything riding on it, but like Preston had said, they needed to help these kids out right now. And she’d been waiting years to lay into this guy. “What, do you have one of those tracking apps on her phone or something? Or just good old-fashioned small-town friends spying for you? Nina is an outstanding young woman and a hard worker and deserves more trust and respect than that. Jordan too. She has an admirable spirit for social justice and a bright future, and, as far as I can see, treats your daughter with more respect and love than anyone.”
Harmony shot her gaze to the manager, standing a few tables back and looking like he possibly wanted to drown himself in the fountain. “Their meal’s on me. No need to kick out anyone who’s dining here tonight.” She swung her head back at the Weavers, pointedly. Homophobic trash cans, that was up to him.
She didn’t really think that manager was going to force the mayor to leave, but Cheryl had clearly had enough of their family drama being on display. “Travis, let’s go. She’ll have to come home eventually and we can talk then.” She tugged on her husband’s hand.
Travis, red-faced, pressed his lips together hard but followed Cheryl out through the restaurant.
“Thanks, Ms. Hale,” Nina murmured. “I can pay you back from all my Christmas cash at home—”
“Not necessary, you two just have a good time if you still can. Order some steak. And dessert.” Why not, Harmony had probably screwed everything up for the festival anyway. If she couldn’t give the girls real internships, she could at least give them some cannoli.
Jordan’s eyes gleamed as she sat back down across from Nina, who settled into her chair with a slow pleased smile overtaking her pinched expression. Jordan smirked fondly. “You said a grown-up swear word. I’m so proud of you.”
“ You said you’re in love with me.”
Deer-in-the-headlights Jordan was back. “Um. Yeah. Yup.”
Time to leave them to it. Harmony turned on her heel, realizing she’d also messed up romantic evening attempt number three with Preston, who was watching from where he stood beside their table. She walked back over, thinking how this might even make his inquiry harder, since Cheryl surely knew they were together, and, god, all she’d wanted was to ask Preston if they could be together, for longer term—how had she managed to fuck everything up? “I’m sorry—”
He bracketed her face with his hands and kissed her. Forehead pressed to hers, he said, “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
Furiosa’s headlights shone into the blue twilight, just far enough to illuminate the next bend in the country road. Preston had offered to drive, because after her face-off with Travis, Harmony had thrown back the rest of her wine fast. Her nerves still hadn’t settled—too many people were glancing their way, and while normally she’d feed off the attention as much as her butternut ravioli, she was not about to ask Preston if he might be interested in her sticking around after the festival with an audience.
Even now, alone as they drove out to Dani’s, the question seemed to slosh around in her stomach. All she managed was, “Thanks again. For dinner. And for driving.”
“Sorry we couldn’t hang around and let you sober up over some dessert. School night.”
“I promise I don’t mind.” She never would, about Lacey. “I get it. I had to be there to take care of my dad a lot toward the end.” Shit, was it the wine letting this slip out? She tried to play it off. “No time for homecoming dances.” Preston’s eyes didn’t stray from the road, but she could tell he was listening. His brow flexed, and she found herself saying, “When his business went under, he kinda did too, with the drinking and everything.”
“That must have been a lot.”
“Yeah.” And she didn’t even have to explain, because Preston knew, he knew everything that came with something like that—the horrible details like coroners and the mundane ones that were almost worse, keeping track of bills and shit and making sure the person you were looking after had eaten something, when everyone around you still got to just go to school and think about totally normal, stupid things. And she’d give anything to have her dad back to take care of again. “So, like, I get it.”
She’d never talked about this, not even with Alice. And it felt like maybe, more than asking anything about her staying, this was enough, for tonight. She’d wait to say the other words after she fixed things with the fest, but sharing this part of herself felt almost like the same thing. Like telling Preston she wasn’t holding anything back anymore.
He must have sensed something of that, eyes forward but focus flowing her way, asking softly, “What was he like?”
“Oh, big dreams and bigger feelings.” The old pain scorched through her chest, but she smiled as she remembered something about her dad she could tell Preston without changing any details. “He’d do this thing, where he’d make us a picnic on a hotel room floor, and the only rule was you had to imagine you were anywhere else. Because a hotel could be anywhere, right?” He’d tried to make it fun when they’d had to leave another apartment, everything packed into their car, not knowing where they’d be the next week. “We had picnics in Central Park and on the shore of Lake Geneva and at the top of an Amalfi hillside.”
He’d tried his best. Harmony couldn’t fail him now. She’d been focused on the festival, but she still needed to figure out how to keep her promise to him.
Preston’s mouth curled gently. “Sounds like he was really creative.”
She nodded. “That was Iggie—Hale.” It was wrong, the lie of false Harmony clanging against her father’s name. Like everything she was doing. It was starting to feel like the cons were never going to heal his memory. But she didn’t know what would.
“Know what?” Preston flicked on the turn signal. “We have a little more time.” He steered them off the main county road, down another cut through fields going dim and soft in the gloaming.
“Where are you taking me?” She shot thinned eyes at him. “You’re the one that’s supposed to be kidnapped.”
He grinned. “Quick stop.”
They pulled up alongside a low metal gate barring yet another gravel road, this one running between lines of trees. The orchard. Preston opened her door for her and climbed over the fence easily. “I know you’ve been here for work, but sometimes we haul Lacey’s telescope out here, and this time of the evening, it’s—” He turned around to help her over, and his gaze and words caught on the sight of her above his eye level, ballet flats hitched up on the metal slats. “Beautiful.”
Harmony beamed down at his slackened expression. “Oh, good, I see the Stockholm syndrome is kicking in.” Holding his hand, she tucked herself up on the gate and swung her legs around. “My evil plan is working.”
He helped her ease down. “To recruit me to your ring of library book thieves?”
“I’ve already got you stealing in here.” The orchard’s remaining trees spread before them, evenly spaced trunks breaking into wide green crowns under the purpling sky.
He made an affronted noise. “I’m not trespassing, it’s my land.”
“Oh, now it’s yours.”
“Are you arguing just so I’ll do this?” He tugged on her hand and pulled her into a kiss. She felt his smile against her lips before he leaned back. “Come on.”
They left the road to walk under the trees’ canopy, sloping scrub-covered ground as soft as the shadows. The furthest hills smudged the horizon with purple, below the rising moon, beyond a line of cypresses edging the main road. The last walnut blossoms drifted down in the evening breeze.
Preston squeezed her hand. “Good place for a picnic?”
She nodded. “Next kidnapping, for sure.”
“Here. I want to show you something.” He led her over to one massive and gnarled trunk. “My great-great-grandparents farmed here when they immigrated from Italy.” He pointed out a rough RM + LM cut into the bark. “That’s them.”
She reached out and traced the letters. “I love that. We did something like this too, at my high school, in the theater. Carved our initials into the greenroom wall.” She splayed one hand. “ Harmony was here. ”
“No one could ever miss that you were.” He laughed, his gaze on her tender. “At least yours would be easy.” At her confused look, he raised a brow. “All straight lines?”
“No, the G —” She barely stuttered before smoothly continuing, “Geniuses at my school said we were only allowed to use stage knives.” She really needed to find a way to stop lying to this man, because it wasn’t the wine—whenever she was around Preston, she wanted to be her true self; everything wanted to come spilling out of her. She was in love with this feeling of sharing and being seen.
But, she realized, suddenly struck by the evening chill, even bringing the festival to life right here wouldn’t fix all of this. She’d still have to hide her real past from Preston. She’d always be holding something back. “It was a real pain in the ass,” she finished thinly.
He must have noticed her shiver. “We’d better go, before it gets too dark.”
She stumbled over the tree roots, and he steadied her. Bracing herself, palms to his chest, she murmured, “Too late.”
“I’m starting to understand how you ended up in that swimming pool.”
“Must really be great out here for stargazing.”
But the moon was full and bright, and Preston’s gaze was locked only on her. As if he could see her, through the mess she’d made and didn’t know how to clear away. Like the moonlight reaching through the tracery of leaves and branches. No neon glow now, only pure silver playing over his dark hair, catching on his cheekbones, as he gave a helpless sort of sigh and leaned in and kissed her.
They were a furnace in the gathering night, Preston’s strong, warm hands clutching her near, Harmony arching into him, feet tangled in the roots of a hundred-year-old tree, bathed in moonlight.
She wanted this, something alive, something lasting. It seemed all she was getting was more questions—and while she usually had a quick answer to throw at any that came her way, what she needed now was truth. And that seemed much harder to find.
Harmony knew she couldn’t kiss her way to a solution, but, really, she should probably give it a go. Just in case. For science.
She backed Preston against the tree and tried.