“Are you sure?” Abby arched her eyebrow. “Even now, at the mention of his name, I see how your face lights up.”
“Caleb might not be as smitten with Cheyenne as you think,” Noelle said.
“I agree,” Meg said. “He’s been hanging out at the Dockside Grill on the weekends with his friends.”
“I ran into him too,” Eryn said. “In fact, now that I think about it, I haven’t seen him and Cheyenne together in quite a while.”
“Maybe Cheyenne has been out of town, so Caleb is keeping busy with his friends.”
“No, she’s around,” Noelle said. “She stopped by the flower shop the other day to pick up some arrangements for Clifton Manor.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Harlow squared her shoulders. “I’m looking forward to being single and by myself. Besides, after my disastrous marriage, I don’t trust my judgment.”
Eryn glanced at her watch. “Your dad hasn’t come home yet.”
“He and Lottie must be having a nice, long dinner. They deserve it.” After the Mackies left, Harlow and Mort took the long way home. She replayed the evening festivities. The party had been a blast; spending time with her friends and family was what holidays were all about.
Maybe Cheyennewaspurchasing Lighthouse Lane. It was a free country. She had as much right to buy the place as Harlow did.
Still, the niggling thought that perhaps the woman had done it to be spiteful, like the others had suggested, was something to consider. If so, Harlow wondered if she’d inadvertently made an enemy.
She returned home and discovered a text from Robert, reminding her about his plans to meet with her the following day.
Harlow texted back to pin him down about the exact time. He didn’t reply, which wasn’t unusual. The fact of the matter was, she needed to ensure their face-to-face meeting was productive and civil. Her career and livelihood depended on it.
Chapter 9
“Thank you for inviting me to dinner, David.” Lottie met his gaze across the table.
“I didn’t mean to take you away from your Mackies’ holiday party,” he gruffly replied.
“No worries. Harlow has this. I’ve gone to almost every single event, so missing one, even though this is the holiday cookie bake-off and gift exchange, is fine by me.” She absentmindedly traced the rim of her glass with her fingertip. “I’m glad you and Harlow have made amends.”
“Me too. It was a tough…rough…stretch after the fire.”
“It’s a shame about Lighthouse Lane going pending right when she was ready to make her offer,” Lottie said. “It makes me wonder…”
“Wonder?”
“I’ve heard the talk. Most of the islanders knew Harlow had gone to look at it and that she was interested.”
“You think someone may have intentionally snatched it up because she wanted it?” David drummed his fingers on the table. “Who would do such a thing?”
Lottie shrugged. “Who knows? I don’t think Harlow has made any enemies, although it strikes me as an odd coincidence.”
“The timing.”
“Mmm…hmm. It’s not a hot real estate market right now, not to mention the fact that the place needs updating.”
“It does. Harlow and I went there. She wanted my thoughts on what it would take to renovate it,” David said. “Maybe someone plans to buy it and turn around and jack the price up if they think Harlow wants the property badly enough.”
“That’s an interesting theory.” Lottie grew thoughtful. “Could be. Harlow has plenty of cash to purchase it without batting an eye.”
“Or the original offer could fall through.” David slipped his reading glasses on and changed the subject. “I can’t remember the last time I ate at Clifton Court. I hear the food is delicious.”
Lottie opened her menu, her eyes growing round as saucers. “And expensive.”
David covered the side listing the prices. “Don’t worry about the cost. We’re here to treat ourselves to a nice holiday dinner.”
