“I know the feeling.” She studied the menu because looking up was an invitation for Matt to ask questions. While it felt good to talk about Xander, there were things she’d never shared. Not even to her parents, or Jinx, or Dr. Tagg. What happened that day in the penthouse lobby, or those that followed, was her secret.
Blaire reappeared with a fresh swipe of bright red lipstick. “Are you ready to order?” She snapped her gum and glanced down at Harlow, her pen poised over the order pad. “You want the fish platter again?”
“The garden salad with grilled salmon looks good.” Matt handed over his menu.
“I’ll have the same, dressing on the side.” Said like a bona fidesalad-ordering pro, which Harlow Hayes was, in a different life. But in this moment, she was a fraud because she most definitely wanted the fish platter. Why was she faking it? What did she have to prove? Matt had already seen her at her worst.
“So, what have you been up to?” he said after Blaire left.
“Mostly watching soap operas and thinking about jogging. What about you? What happened with Cindy Canon?” Harlow heard pieces of the story onEntertainment Tonight.
“I sort of ditched her at some seedy bar so Steve could drag my car down the Strip.”
“Why’d you ditch her for Steve and Rob?”
“Unless you’re Lucy and you’ve hung up yourShrink Is Insign, let’s move on.”
“Okay, Charlie Brown.”
Their laughter intermingled, picking up where they left off afterTalk to Me Sweetlywrapped.
“So...” Matt leaned toward Harlow. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Already?” But yes, whatever, she’d do it.
“Come work at the Starlight. Granny needs to fire a few people, and I want to hire people I trust. You said you were here all summer, so how about it?” He paused. “Wait, are you working? Do you have any jobs coming up?”
“Matt, come on, you know I’m not working. You know I don’t have any jobs coming up.”
“Then come work at the Starlight.”
“Doing what?” She reached for her napkin roll, remembering her upcoming salad with a sting of disappointment. “I don’t know how to skate.”
His smile melted some of her icy places. “Can you count money? Wash a window? Take out trash?”
“How much trash?”
He stuck out his hand. “You’re hired.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Let’s talk money, Mr. Knight. I’m a skilledmodel. Harlow Hayes can sit at your ticket counter and stare at nothing for hours.”
“So the girl negotiates. All right.” He thought for a moment. “How about ... now, this is not your typical HH money ... minimum wage? Three thirty-five an hour.”
“Matt, hey—” Blaire returned with members of the diner’s crew and a Polaroid camera. “Sorry to barge in, but can we get a picture? Please?” She handed the camera to Harlow. “Could you?”
“You might want her in it too, Blaire,” Matt said. “You know she’s the Most—”
“Amazing photographer.” Harlow pointed to the front window. “This is not the best place for a light. It’s better over there.” She’d learned a few things about lighting and photography over the years. Though it was anyone’s guess what a Polaroid would spit out.
The crew clustered around Matt, with Blaire tucking herself under his arm. Matt’s party-boy reputation always puzzled Harlow. On set, he’d been so focused and serious. Devoted to his craft. Kind and generous with everyone. For their first scene, he’d rehearsed with her for over an hour, coaching her, giving her tips, putting her at ease. At the end of filming, Matt bought brand-new cars for two of the crew members, then denied it when asked by the press.
“Everyone ready?” Harlow said. “Say cheese.” She aimed and clicked, waited for the film to slide from the box, then shot a couple more. She set the prints on a table to dry and handed the camera to Blaire, who gave her a lingering look.
“Say, you do look familiar. How do you know Matt?”
Thankfully, a strong female voice bellowed from the kitchen. “I got food to be cooked and tables to be served, so if y’all aren’t back to work by the time I count to two, every last one of you is fired. One,”—The crew scattered—“two.”
Back at their booth, Matt said, “You were a sport, taking the pictures without saying anything.”
