The Secret Keeper: Feel Good Beachy Women's Fiction (Hideaway Bay Book 1)

Prologue

Harper Calhoun shook Arlington Marsh’s hand, a little in awe of the man. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Marsh. I love so many of your movies. You really have a knack for making a character your own.”

He smiled, immediately putting her at ease. Even at seventy-nine, he was a fit, handsome man. Then again, he had the benefit of a nearly unlimited bank account to help with that. “Very kind of you to say. And, please, call me Arlington.” He nodded at the young woman who’d seen Harper in. “Thank you, Mary Ellen.”

The young woman left them, and he gestured to one of the chairs across from his large, marble-topped desk. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Harper settled into a navy leather chair. Arlington’s office was a good-sized room with walnut paneling that really showed off the posters of the movies he’d been in. Shelves displayed his numerous awards, including his two Oscars. Interspersed were photos of him with every actor she could think of. Some had already passed on. The man was a Hollywood legend.

“My son, Teddy, tells me you’ve been a great help to him, but that’s about all he’s told me.”

She smiled and nodded. Theodore Marsh had mentioned he’d brought up her name to his father. “My clients all sign a non-disclosure agreement, as do I. It’s…sort of the cornerstone of what I do.”

Arlington’s forehead wrinkled in curiosity. “And what is it that you do, exactly?”

“In the simplest of terms, I’m a professional confidante, Mr. Marsh. Sorry. Arlington. Some of my clients have used me as a sounding board. Others as a muse. Some needed a safe shoulder to lean on or someone to listen to them without judgment. Maybe offer a little advice. Some want a source of unbiased opinions. That’s what I do. Whatever my clients need.”

His thick white brows rose.

“Within reason,” she added. “Everything I do, all the services I provide, are aboveboard.”

“Good to know. How did you get into this business?”

A standard question that she’d developed a standard answer for. “How does anyone get into any business? Life took me in some interesting directions and gave me the right skillset.”

Seemingly amused, he nodded. “I can understand that. May I ask what you did for my son, Teddy?”

“You may ask, but I won’t answer.” Theodore, more commonly known as Teddy, was Arlington’s oldest son and had made a name for himself as a strong character actor who was very much in demand. He was known for being a consummate professional and devoted father. His younger brother, Jackson, had gotten the looks in the family and had become a sought-after leading man. He was known for being more of a playboy and a rule-breaker. The family was a Hollywood dynasty.

What she’d done for Teddy was convince him to turn down a less-than-stellar movie in exchange for spending some much-needed quality time with his family. Teddy credited that decision with saving his marriage and giving him his reputation as a family-first kind of man.

It had done wonders for his career.

Arlington laughed softly. “He speaks very highly of you. Says I could use someone like you in my life.”

“Only you can be the judge of that.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me the names of any of your other clients. As a way of providing references.”

“I’d love to, but I won’t. I never reveal the names of my clients.”

“Must be a hard way to do business if you can’t offer references.”

“You found me.” She smiled. “People have their ways of passing my name along when they think someone could benefit from my help.”

He steepled his fingers. “What qualifies you to be a professional confidante, Ms. Calhoun?”

She never lied about anything, but especially about this part. “I’m a vault. I excel at keeping secrets. What my clients tell me will go with me to my grave. Not even a court order would cause me to reveal what I know.”

“You’d risk jail time for your clients?”

“If necessary.”

His eyes narrowed. “And you truly don’t burn to share the tasty morsels of information you learn with your closest friends? Or to sell them to the highest bidder? I’m sure you could make a mint.”

“I’m sure I could, but with all due respect, Arlington, I am paid very well for my services and were I ever to do such a thing, my business would disappear. As it should.” She sat up a little straighter. “I take what I do very seriously. I’ve been around enough celebrities to understand, to some degree, what that life is like. You don’t know who to trust because you’ve already lost friends to the lure of easy money in exchange for a story. Or, worse, a photo or video taken at an inopportune time.”

He sighed in what seemed like sad agreement.

She went on. “The bigger you get, the smaller your personal circle becomes.” She hesitated, watching him closely. Then she sank her hook. “You don’t even trust the woman you married.”

He lifted his eyes to her then. “Who told you that?”

“No one. But it’s not hard to surmise. She’s your third wife and thirty-eight years your junior. She sat for a photoshoot specifically themed around the engagement ring you gave her. I’d say you’re wise not to trust her too much with sensitive details.” Harper smiled to soften her words. “But maybe I’ve become a bit of a cynic. Surely you know Lisa better than anyone.”

A brief scowled crossed his face, then he stared at his desk again. “I’m not sure I do some days.” He exhaled and looked out the window until his expression softened. Then he met Harper’s gaze again. “So. This non-disclosure agreement. I’d like to look it over.”

She reached into her tote bag and pulled out the one she’d brought with her. Teddy had mentioned that his father didn’t love emails and trusted paper more. She set the pages on Arlington’s desk.

He picked it up and glanced at it. “Would you give me a moment?”

“Take all the time you need.” She picked up her bag, preparing to go.

“Don’t be so hasty.” His eyes twinkled. “I read pretty quickly.”

She set her bag down and sat quietly.

Several minutes later, he glanced at her, then put the NDA on his desk, pulled out a pen and scrawled his signature across the line on the second page. He recapped the pen and pushed the agreement toward her. “Would you like to stay for lunch, Ms. Calhoun? Or do you have another client you need to see?”

She picked up the NDA. “I would be happy to stay. How many hours would you like?”

“Let’s start with two, if that works with your schedule.”

She tucked the agreement away. “It works just fine. And, please, call me Harper.”