Chapter 11
Harlow leaned her hip against the kitchen counter. “How was dinner? Did you and Lottie exchange gifts?”
“Not yet. Dinner was delicious. Clifton Court serves one of the best steaks I’ve ever tasted.” David lifted the box of leftovers. “I even saved some for my bedtime snack.”
“What did Lottie have?”
“Red snapper. She gave me a bite. It was just as good.” David stuck the leftovers in the fridge. “How was the Mackies’ Christmas party?”
“So much fun.” Harlow showed him the karaoke machine. “My secret Santa gift was a karaoke machine. We had a ball messing around with it.”
“Although the desserts sounded tempting, I didn’t order one.” Her father gazed around the kitchen. “I hope you saved me a cookie.”
“More like cookies, at least one of each.” Harlow slid a fudge box toward him. “I’ve eaten more than my share. You can have the rest.”
He flipped the flaps and peered inside. “Deciding which one to sample first is gonna be tough.”
“The white peppermint chocolate pastries are worth every calorie.”
David plucked the pastry from the box. Breaking off a large piece, he popped it into his mouth.
Mort, noticing food was being eaten, skittered across the kitchen and plopped down at his feet.
“These aren’t for you, buddy.” Harlow fed him a boiled egg from the fridge. “And even if you could eat them, I don’t think you would like the peppermint flavor.”
“He might not, but I have to say, this is delicious. Five out of five stars.” David finished the treat before sampling a frosted wreath sugar cookie, one of Harlow’s creations. “Thanks for saving me some.”
“We have even more leftovers in the fridge and won’t have to cook for days,” she said. “By the way, your smoked ribs were a big hit.”
“I’m glad you and your friends enjoyed them.” David polished off his cookie. “Lottie and I…well, more like Lottie, ran into Cheyenne Clifton at the restaurant.”
“Did she stop by your table to say hello?”
“What do you think?”
“I’m kidding.” Harlow laughed. “It was a joke.”
“She was sitting with someone you know very well.”
“Caleb?”
“Nope.” David flicked off the cookie crumbs before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone. He clicked on the text Lottie had sent him and tracked down the picture of Cheyenne and Robert, cozying up at the restaurant.
Harlow’s smile vanished. “Robert is already here.”
“Eating dinner with Cheyenne.”
“He must be staying at Clifton Manor.”
“Could be. Lottie seemed to think Cheyenne was flirting with him.”
Harlow tapped the screen and enlarged the photo. “She’s showing off her goods.”
“Which is exactly what Lottie said. Based on what I know about them, those two are cut from the same cloth.”
“I don’t know Cheyenne very well, but from everything I’ve heard, you could be right.” Harlow handed the phone back. “Wouldn’t that be something if she’s trying to convince Robert to introduce her to the Hollywood scene? Cheyenne is a beautiful woman.”
“Beautiful women are a dime a dozen,” David said. “Does she have the sparkle it takes to make it on the big screen?”
“I have no idea. I wish I could’ve been a fly on the wall, listening in on the conversation.”
“Her trying to sell herself. Robert trying to figure out if she has what it takes.”
“Or maybe he’s looking for a casual fling. I wonder if Caleb knows she’s hanging out with my ex.” Harlow thought about a comment one of the Mackies had made earlier, how they hadn’t seen Cheyenne and Caleb together recently.
Perhaps he’d decided she was too high maintenance. Or maybe she was the one who put the brakes on their relationship. Either way, it wasn’t any of her business. What Cheyenne, Caleb or even Robert did, except when it involved her career, was no concern of hers.
“Did you hear back about Lighthouse Lane?”
“Not a peep. Allie warned me it might take a couple of days because the sellers were traveling over the holidays,” she reminded him.
“I hope you get word soon. In the meantime, you can stay here for as long as you want. Forever would suit me fine.”
Harlow followed her father into the living room. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m looking forward to having a place of my own.”
“I know you are, and I completely understand. At least you won’t be on the other side of the country.”
“Yep. Patience. I’m trying to remind myself anything worth having requires patience,” Harlow said.
David stifled a yawn. “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat.”
“I was thinking about calling it a day myself. Something tells me I’ll need to be rested for my meeting with Robert.”
*****
Harlow turned from side to side, critically eyeing her reflection in the full-length bedroom mirror.
It had been a couple of months since she’d seen Robert.
Weeks filled with peace, when she wasn’t stressed about the next big deal, traveling from home to home because her husband refused to stay in one place for long, always wanting to be on the move.
It had been absolutely blissful to sleep in the same bed, to wake up in the morning knowing she had nowhere to go and all day to get there.
Accustomed to living out of a suitcase for weeks, sometimes months at a time, the easy, laid-back island pace was what her mind and body craved, and the more she fell back into the island life, the less she wanted to leave.
Harlow knew the day would come when she would need to hop on a plane to LA to start her next big project. By then she would be ready…ready for the hustle and bustle, the glam and the glitz, but for now she was content. More than content.
Wearing a pale pink cashmere sweater and black stretch pants that accentuated her slender figure, fitting her curves to a “t” it was a style Harlow deemed casual chic, the perfect outfit for a light lunch with her manager.
She’d recently glimpsed snapshots of her in the rag magazines—stepping out of the post office, buying flowers from Noelle’s flower shop, juggling grocery bags while exiting the corner grocery store—all had made front-page headlines with equally titillating titles.
Harlow Wynn in seclusion after a heartbreaking divorce.
Shamed and humiliated, Harlow Wynn has gone into hiding after her husband / manager Robert Barbetz dumped her for a Brazilian model.
Hooked on prescription drugs, Harlow Wynn struggles to find work.
All slanderous and outrageous lies designed to sell. These types of stories were churned out daily, not only about Harlow but other stars. She’d long ago taken every single one she read with a grain of salt—or more like a super-shaker full.
Which is why she was becoming more aware of how she looked when venturing out in public. A mole…someone from a rag tabloid was embedded on the island, stealthily following Harlow around, snapping random photos to sell for big bucks.
There was another reason for Harlow’s carefully chosen outfit. Robert, to show him not only was she surviving, but thriving. Not that he would care, unless it reflected poorly on her superstar image. The only things her ex cared about were money, prestige, power and position.
She was marking the days on the calendar of when their contractual agreement ended, but for now, Harlow would do whatever it took to remain amicable and even friendly. Hence, her grudgingly agreeing to meet with him.
She grabbed her Brahmin crossbody bag and trekked to the door.
Her father, who was sitting in the living room reading, set the newspaper aside, giving her his full attention. “Heading out already?”
“I want to get there a few minutes early,” Harlow said. “The sooner we meet, the sooner I can escape.”
“Are you going to ask him about Cheyenne?”
Harlow had seesawed back and forth, wondering if she should mention the woman. On the one hand, she was curious about why the two were together. But on the other hand, she shouldn’t be surprised they had crossed paths, seeing how they were more alike than different.
She had no idea how old Cheyenne was, although she suspected the woman was at least a few years younger than Harlow—the perfect age for Robert to mold and shape into his next rising star.
“If the subject comes up,” Harlow said. “I suppose I could ask him in a roundabout way where he’s staying.”
“He seems like the type who would want to be in the thick of the action, not here on Mackinac Island, especially during the holidays.”
“I doubt he’ll stick around for long. You’re right, though. This is only a stopoff on his way to New York City. We have mutual friends who live there. We’ve spent the past several years watching the ball drop from their place, near Times Square.”
David thoughtfully contemplated his daughter. “Do you miss it?”
“Sometimes, but not right now,” Harlow said. “I’m enjoying every minute of being here…being home.”
“I hope your lunch meeting is equally as calm and stress-free.”
“Me too.” Harlow gave him a thumbs up. “Robert won’t do anything to upset the gravy train. He has limited power now and won’t want to mess things up since I’ve signed on for a very lucrative deal.”
“You know him better than I do.”
Harlow told her father she would be back in a couple of hours and took off.
She grabbed her winter bike, a fluorescent purple bicycle with fat winter tires she’d recently bought from Arlen at the bike shop.
She still remembered the day she’d picked it up and taken it for a test drive, nearly wiping out on the icy street.
Unlike a traditional pedal bike, which is what Harlow had grown up riding, the fat tires gripped the snow, and it took some practice to get the hang of it. Thankfully, Arlen was on hand to give her useful tips, and soon she was on her way.
Harlow loved her new bike and being able to take off whenever she wanted. Although she adored Marty and he was always around if she needed a lift, the bike meant freedom, free to “scooter poot” when the mood hit.
Coasting into town, she dodged several snowmobiles lining the sides of the street. Harlow’s first stop was the storage barn, the delivery center to find out when her father’s Christmas present, shiny and brand spanking new, would be arriving.
Up next was the post office to drop off mail, followed by the deli, the place she and Robert planned to meet and only a stone’s throw from Clifton Manor. In fact, if she stood in the middle of the street, she would have a bird’s-eye view of the hotel’s front porch.
Harlow parked her bike and slipped into the deli.
A “Seat Yourself” sign greeted her. She found a quiet corner table and took a seat facing out so she could keep an eye on the door.
Removing her cell phone from her pocket, she noticed a missed call from Janice, her publicist, and promptly called her back.
“Hey, Harlow. How’s the winter wonderland?”
“Winter wonderland is right. Thankfully, the roads have been plowed. My family and I are celebrating Christmas on New Year’s Eve now that Santa has delivered most of our presents and the grocery store is restocked.”
“Better you than me, honey. The reason for my call is that I was wondering if you signed the contract for the new project Robert has been working on.”
“I have.”
“Hmm.”
“Why? Is there a problem?”
“Maybe.”
Harlow heard nervous tapping on the other end of the line…not a good sign when Janice was the one doing the tapping. “The studio has also signed the actor, your co-star.”
“When?”
“Friday.” Janice hurried on. “I just found out. For some reason, the studio was keeping it under wraps.”
“Friday is the same day I signed. Who is it?”
“Derrick Flynn.”
“Derrick Flynn, one of the most obnoxious actors in the business?” Harlow’s stomach churned.
Obnoxious may have been an understatement.
To put it bluntly, the guy was a major jerk, yet his female fans swooned over him.
By all appearances, the good-looking smooth talker knew how to turn on the charm, at least in public.
Behind the scenes, he was an awful person.
The only reason the studios put up with him was because he had an uncanny ability to draw in the female moviegoers…
in droves. People “in the biz,” other actors with clout, refused to work with him.
Harlow’s shock was replaced with fury. “Robert knew. This is why he was in such a hurry to have me sign the other morning.”
“I’m sorry, Harlow. I wish I would’ve found out sooner.”
“You and me both.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “Robert is meeting me for lunch. You can bet your bottom dollar I’ll be asking him about it.”
“Unfortunately, if you signed, there’s not much you can do.”
“Nope. I’m stuck.”
The women chatted for a few more minutes until Harlow noticed a familiar figure standing in the doorway. “Robert is here.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it.”