Chapter 4
“Harlow Wynn.” A bubbly, energetic brunette stood at the front door, a wide smile on her face. She extended her hand. “I believe we’ve crossed paths in the past, but it’s nice to officially meet you.”
“Same here.” Harlow shook her hand. Her grip was strong, assured, not wimpy and limp, something she appreciated. “Thank you for making a special trip over here.”
“I have to admit, I haven’t stepped foot on this property in many moons. I heard your father is working on rebuilding the inn.”
“The…damaged structures are being taken down, which will give the construction crews a clean slate to work with as soon as the ground thaws.” Harlow motioned to her aunt, who was standing behind her. “I’m not sure if you know my Aunt Birdie.”
“Bonnie. Of course.” Allie beamed. “It’s been a long time.”
“Too long,” Birdie agreed. “Please call me Birdie.”
“Birdie, it is.” Allie patted her oversized bag. “I printed off a contract. It will only take a few minutes for us to put together your offer.”
Harlow led her through the living room and into the kitchen.
“Cookies. Aren’t those absolutely precious?” Allie gushed over Harlow’s creations. “Where did you buy these?”
“I made them. Would you like to try one?”
“They’re delicious,” Birdie said. “Harlow and I sampled a candy cane while we were waiting for you.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” Allie plucked a snowman, sporting a black top hat, bright red scarf and shiny blue boots, from the plate and nibbled the edge. “He’s almost too cute to eat.”
“They’re my mom’s secret recipe, one of the few things I can actually make in the kitchen without burning it,” Harlow said. “She taught me how to frost them. I find it very therapeutic.”
“It’s a talent, for sure. If you ever give up acting, you could start your own bakery business,” Allie joked.
“I’ll keep it in mind. However, I don’t see it happening anytime soon.” Harlow offered her a seat.
Allie hopped onto the barstool, balancing her bag in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other. “Like I mentioned on the phone, I heard the rumor you were interested in Lighthouse Lane.”
“I fell in love with it the moment I stepped inside,” Harlow said. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to pull the trigger and put in an offer until my divorce was finalized.”
“Which has taken place?” Allie asked.
“I got a copy of it in the mail this morning.”
The woman arched her eyebrow. “You didn’t waste any time.”
“Because I had my heart set on buying the property. Granted, it needs work, but it would be perfect for me. The perfect size, the perfect location. What do you think the chances are of the other contract falling through?”
“I can’t give you specifics,” Allie said. “Although I can tell you there are several contingencies. However, the potential buyer has put up a rather large earnest money deposit, a sign they’re serious.”
“Contingencies such as financing, inspections, stuff like that?” Aunt Birdie asked.
“Because of client confidentiality, I’m unable to get into specifics. Of course, deals you think are a sure thing fall apart while others breeze right through.”
“I understand. The list price is just under a million dollars.”
“Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars,” Allie said. “It’s a bargain.”
“Considering the view, being lakefront property with acreage and no neighbors close by, yes.”
“It doesn’t have a garage,” her aunt said. “Harlow will need a place to store her stuff.”
“Which could easily be remedied,” Allie said. “I’m sure you’ve heard the saying: location, location, location.”
“I don’t think a million is unreasonable.” Harlow rubbed her palms together. “Tack on a couple hundred thousand to remodel and add a garage and I’ll have a fabulous piece of real estate.”
“Do you have your financing in order? A strong offer would include a bank pre-approval.”
“I’m paying cash.”
Allie blinked rapidly. “Cash?”
“Is that a problem?”
“N-no,” she stammered. “Of course not. I sure do wish we could’ve gotten your offer in front of the sellers first. I’ll eventually need proof of funds, showing you have the money available if your offer ends up being accepted.”
“I’ll have no problem getting a bank statement to you. I would like an inspection along with a copy of the current survey, if possible,” Harlow said. “So I know what I’m getting myself into.”
“Absolutely.” Allie pulled a notepad from her bag and began writing. “All reasonable requests. Do you have a timeframe for closing?”
“The sooner, the better.”
“You’re making this too easy.” Allie continued writing. She asked Harlow several more pertinent questions before finishing. “I have everything I need to write your offer.”
“When will you send it over?”
“Hopefully later today.” She gathered up the loose papers and placed them inside her bag. “The local tourist companies will be disappointed if you don’t get Lighthouse Lane.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s become somewhat of a tourist attraction. Word spread like wildfire you were interested, and now everyone wants to see the Harlow Wynn place.”
Aunt Birdie grimaced. “Which means you might also need to factor in adding a privacy fence and other security features.”
“Already in the plans, no matter where I end up,” Harlow said. “I’ll need privacy from prying eyes, nosy neighbors and ruthless paparazzi.”
“I’ve enjoyed every single movie of yours I’ve seen,” Allie said. “A City of Glass will be out soon, and I intend to go see it.”
“I had fun with that one. I hope you enjoy it,” Harlow said.
The trio made small talk and finally Allie left.
Aunt Birdie waited until she was gone. “It looks like you might have a shot at the property if the other deal falls through.”
Harlow heaved a heavy sigh. “If only Robert hadn’t dragged his feet, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. The only thing you can do now is try.”
After her aunt left, Harlow grew restless. She had her heart set on Lighthouse Lane. The divorce was finally finalized, meaning she was free, at least on a personal level.
Robert would continue to manage her career for another ten long months until the end of their contract. So far, he was handling all as he should, had snagged a super sweet deal, one Harlow was looking forward to, promising to pay a pretty penny when it was all said and done.
In the meantime, she had more than enough funds to live on…for the rest of her life if she wanted.
Harlow grabbed her jacket and ran to the garage where she found her father wrapping up his fish-cleaning project. Mort sat on the chair, closely monitoring the progress. Beams of light filtered in through the windowpane, bathing David and Mort in a soft glow.
She slipped her phone out of her pocket and snapped a photo. It was moments like this that Harlow thanked her lucky stars her father had flown to the hospital in California and convinced her to return to Mackinac Island.
Tiptoeing to the side, she accidentally bumped into the snow shovel. It clanged loudly.
David glanced over his shoulder. “Harlow. Well?” He turned, giving her his full attention. “I saw Allie leaving. How did it go?”
Harlow tipped her hand back and forth. “She’s putting the paperwork together. My offer is strong but still only a backup.”
“Who is buying it?”
“She couldn’t…wouldn’t tell me. What she did say was there were a lot of contingencies which might matter or…maybe not.”
“Not much you can do about it now,” he said. “There are other properties for sale and probably even more coming on the market this spring if this one doesn’t work out.”
“I know, and I’m trying not to get too bummed.” Harlow changed the subject. “Do you need help?”
“Mort and I are almost done.” David dumped the scraps in the garbage bin and washed his hands in the sink. “How about dinner in town?”
“Tonight?”
Her father nodded. “We can continue our earlier celebration.”
“I’m sure islanders are still digging out after the snowstorm. Do you think anything will be open?”
He waved dismissively. “We Michiganders are a hearty bunch. I would wager to say they’re all open. They would have to be for tomorrow’s big shindig.”
“Right. I almost forgot about the pet parade and festival.” Harlow brushed at the dusting of flour stuck to her blouse. “I’ll need to change.”
“Stop by your aunt’s place and ask Birdie if she wants to go with us.”
“Will do.” Harlow took off, making a beeline for her aunt’s cottage. She could see movement inside and gave the door a light rap.
Birdie appeared moments later.
Harlow burst out laughing at the sight of her aunt, or more like her face, covered in a shiny pink mask with only her eyes visible. “What in the world?”
“What?”
“Have you looked in the mirror?” she teased.
“Of course. Hey, don’t knock it until you try it.” Birdie wagged her finger. “Wait another twenty-some years and you’ll be plastering pink paste all over your face too.”
Harlow sobered. “I’m kidding. You look adorable.” She sniffed the air. “And smell like citrus.”
“Freshly squeezed lemon to tighten the pores. I’m getting ready to peel it off. Did Allie send over the contract?”
“Not yet. Dad’s wrapping up his fish cleaning and wants to take us out to dinner to celebrate.”
“Celebrate getting rid of wretched Robert?”
“Yep. Do you want to come with us?”
“If your dad is buying, I’m dining.” Aunt Birdie promised she would get ready and meet them next door.
Harlow returned home and ran to her room to freshen up.
Tink. Her cell phone chimed. Thinking it was Allie, she darted to her desk to check. It was Robert, forwarding her a fully executed copy of the movie contract.
She thanked him and began to set the phone down when he replied. “Do you have a minute to chat?”
The majority of their communication was mostly via text or email. The only time Robert wanted to talk was when he had bad news.
“Great,” she groaned. “Now what?”