“Matt, you have some regrets. We all do. Don’t let Harlow be one.”
Tuesday felt a twinge of regret not telling him Harlow was right here, at the Starlight, but it was at her request.“I got some things to figure out. So I’ll just be a regular gal around Sea Blue Beach and the Starlight.”Though with the supermodel back at the rink, Matt would find out soon enough.
The beauty returned almost two weeks ago. Came asking for her job on a Tuesday morning and started that afternoon. She looked softer than before, as if something transpired to let the light inside out, though a shadow or two still flickered through her famous blue eyes from time to time.
“What do you hear from Bodie on your case?” Tuesday said.
“The State Attorney’s office asked for an extension. Bodie is sure they don’t have enough to prosecute. Dale’s probably trying to pressure them. He thinks he has more clout than he does.”
“I hope you’ve learned a thing or two in this process, Matt. Like your dad says, figure out what’s eating you.” Tuesday sensed a presence at the office door. Harry. “Matty, let me call you back. The mayor is here.”
“Great, put me on speaker—”
She pressed the end button on the portable phone. “Harry, what brings you around to the Starlight?”
28
HARLOW
The cool May morning pushed her to run a little farther, a little faster. She’d have to measure the distance with her car, but she figured two and a quarter miles.
She worked the afternoon and evening shifts at the rink, so she used her morning for chores. She balanced her bank account, tossed in a load of laundry, unloaded the dishwasher, manhandled the trash can out to the street just as the garbage truck went by, and watered the plants she’d potted in the kitchen and living room. And framed what personal photos she could find before leaving Buckhead.
One of her at a friend’s birthday party. She was probably ten. It was blurry, but she loved it.
One of Dad working the batter machine at Hayes Cookie Co.
One of Harlow reading through her lines on the set ofTalk to Me Sweetly.
One of Mom’s modeling headshots.
She almost called Matt to dish about her Mom discovery, but she’d made it clear they were done. It didn’t seem fair to stir things up.
With her Nikon, Harlow explored Sea Blue Beach, finding all the quaint corners and old buildings for her creative lens. One roll was entirely of sunsets, sunrises, and the Starlight. She had three rolls at Alderman’s Pharmacy for development and planned to frame the best of the best. More and more, 321 Sea Blue Way became Harlow Hayes’s—no, it becameherhome.
Tucking her keys and some money in her pocket, she headed out the door. First stop Alderman’s to see if her photos were back, then to the library to pick up a stack of business books, then the Blue Plate for lunch. During her run, she’d used her mental energy to psych herself up for a big garden salad with grilled shrimp. But lettuce and tomato never measured up to the breakfast platter of eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, and pancakes. During the whole two-plus miles, she feared she’d cave. The struggle was real.
A couple of teen girls across the street hollered at her. “Harlow, we’re coming to skate tonight.” Another woman stopped her in the middle of the sidewalk with a gentle tap on her arm. “Any word on the signature verification? I got my whole family to sign the petition.”
“Still waiting.” She started to say Tuesday was anxiously waiting, but now that she thought about it, the older woman seemed remarkably calm.
The rest of the town buzzed with anxiety, though. Would there be a Starlight or a Murdock monstrosity this time next year? Tension mounted as dissenting opinions debated in the public square.
The photos weren’t back yet at Alderman’s. So she headed to the Blue Plate’s back deck by way of the Beachwalk.
“Harlow, hello.” Xander popped out of nowhere and stood in front of her.
“Xander!” She jumped back, taking him in. Dressed in a blue pullover and pressed khakis with Top-Siders, his thick black hairlightly touched with silver and tousled by the wind, he seemed larger than life. And so oddly out of place.
“Sorry, did I scare you?” He laughed low.
Since she left Buckhead, he’d called her a half dozen times and sent a box of her clothes and shoes Davina had stuffed in the back of a closet. All perfect for the life sheusedto lead. Not for Sea Blue Beach.
Their conversations were a complicated two-step of his“Give me a second chance”and her“Idon’t know.”
During one call, she asked if he was aware his Uncle Devier knew her mother in another life. He did not. Well, hadn’t untilTalk to Me Sweetlyfilming started.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
