2
Harlow
“You ready to rock it, kiddo?” Harlow stood with his back to the wall, alternating between checking on his teenage daughter, Evie, and keeping watch over the room’s only door. Evie stood at his side, farthest from the exit, one canvas sneaker’s sole flat against the wall. Despite Harlow’s request to wear something nice, she’d settled on a pair of acid-washed, pre-torn skinny jeans and a few neutral, layered tank tops beneath an army green bomber jacket. Her blond hair was pinned messily on top of her head in a look that Harlow internally referred to as “bird’s nest,” but that Evie’s stylist, Cynthia, called “bed head hotness.”
“Yup.” Evie ran her tongue over her teeth, then pinched her lips together and pushed off the wall. “Are they coming?”
“Not yet.” Harlow looked away from the door, stealing a look at Evie. “We’ve probably got another five minutes, I figure. Remember last time we were in Aurora?”
“Yeah.” Evie laughed. Her voice was smoky—the kind of voice Harlow thought would make it big if Evie ever decided to pursue music. “They were, what, an hour and a half late? And we were in this stupid room the whole time bored out of our minds. I’m pretty sure I was furiously texting Justin the whole time.”
“Nope. Your phone died.” Harlow chuckled. He returned his gaze to the door. “I think you almost died. There was a lot of dramatic sighing and eye rolling. You werenothappy.”
“Well, yeah! I could’ve been doing something important. Like sleeping.” Evie giggle-snorted, then scuffed the heel of her shoe against the floor. “I’m pretty sure that Mikey talked with the organizers, and that this year, it’s going to be different. We wouldn’t have come back if something didn’t change.”
“I’m pretty sure he did.”
Evie dusted her hands on her pants. There was a shift in atmosphere—a sudden somber quality that made Harlow look away from the door to check on her. Her lips were thinned, and discomfort lurked in her eyes. “Do you think that there’s going to be trouble today? I mean, it’s not like I’m expecting anything to go wrong, but I’d really prefer if everything went smoothly, you know? It’s…” She laughed dismissively, then shook her head. “It’d just be nice if we could get this done, and then I could move on.”
“There’s not going to be any trouble,” Harlow promised. “The team is in position and they’ve done this a million times before. When we scouted everything out earlier today, everything was quiet. The biggest thing you have to worry about is how badly Justin is going to drag you after the panel in Indianapolis.”
Evie snorted again and shot Harlow a look that said she had nothing to worry about. When it came to comebacks, Evie was queen—Justin didn’t have anything on her. “Dad, you’re a dork.” She punched him playfully on the arm.
“Yup.” Harlow lifted a brow and turned to Evie, expecting to find dazzling enthusiasm lighting up her eyes from the inside. What he found instead hinted at lifelessness—it was the same fake light that reflected beautifully on camera, but whose superficiality diminished the brilliant woman he knew Evie to be. “Evie—”
Feedback in Harlow’s ear cut him short. Communication arrived through his earpiece. “Heads up, H. Event organizer incoming.”
Harlow turned away from Evie, zeroing in on the door once more. He raised his hand and pressed the pinhead-sized button on the flat of his earpiece to respond. “Got it. Thanks.”
“They’re coming to collect us?” Evie asked. She dusted off the back of her jeans, then straightened her jacket.
Harlow nodded. “We’re on.”
“I’m ready,” Evie said. Was the determination in her voice a fabrication, too? Harlow couldn’t tell. Over the years, the quality of Evie’s acting had drastically improved, and these days, he struggled to tell her authentic self from the woman she played on the screen. “Love you, Dad. Thank you for always having my back.”
What she said, she meant. No matter how good of an actor Evie became, he’d be able to tell. The little girl who’d used to look up to him with sparkling eyes and a contagious gap-toothed smile had once spoken those words to him with the same cadence he heard in her voice today. Those days were gone, and with them had gone the simple happiness they’d enjoyed, but hints of them remained in how Evie spoke, and in the young woman she’d grown into.
Struck by the sincerity of the moment, Harlow turned his attention away from the door and shot her a sunny smile—the same one that Evie gave him. “Love you, too, kiddo.”
There was a knock at the door—the event organizers had arrived.
“Looks like it’s showtime,” Evie remarked. She rubbed her hands together, then stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “God, I’m so looking forward to a nap. All of this has just been exhausting.”
“We’ll be out of here soon enough.” Harlow knew that it wasn’t what she meant, but it was the best he could offer her. They still had another few months on the road to worry about—a constant string of public appearances connecting them. And with Evie’s contract renewed for another three seasons ofHeaven, Locked, the next few years were going to be nonstop busy.
But busy was good.
Busy distracted them both from what they were missing—and as far as Harlow was concerned, that was a good thing. It made no sense to dwell in the past. All they could keep doing was move forward. Another day. Another week. Another year.
“Alright,” Evie said at last. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Harlow was, too. Wherever Evie went, Harlow was bound to follow.
* * *
The back corridorsof the convention hall were barren and poorly maintained. There was no carefully vacuumed carpet to cushion their footfalls like there were in the lobby, no grand art displays, and no crystal-clear windows. The walls were an off-white that made Harlow think that, at some point in history when the world had allowed such things, they’d been stained by nicotine. There was a stale smell in the air, vaguely earthen with a hint of mildew. Sweat—the distant odor of too many bodies crammed into too small a space with inadequate ventilation.
“How many are in attendance?” Harlow asked the event organizer as he guided them through the labyrinthine hallways.
