She’d timed out everything in her head.
“Six actually.” Kelsey offered her hand. “Guests will start arriving in less than an hour.”
Harper grabbed Kelsey’s hand, hopping to her feet. “Evan is going to kill me.”
“Yep.” Kelsey grinned. “You should see him. All hot and bothered and talking trash.”
“Great.” That was hardly motivation to return to the main house.
“He wants to impress his new girlfriend tonight.”
Ever since his divorce, Evan the Great—their secret nickname for him—rotated girlfriends like chickens on a rotisserie. The Cantor estate was supposed to be a respite, of sorts, from the partying down south, but Evan played by his own rules. And no matter how poorly he treated women, he was never at a loss for a date. “Most women are in awe of him.”
“I guess this one needs a little more incentive. She’s been out recently with a whole round of A-listers.”
“Maybe she’ll stick with him for a few months.”
“I doubt it,” Kelsey said. “Marlo is just another piece of eye candy.”
Harper shoved her pen and notebook into her backpack. “How did you turn out so—I don’t know—normal?”
Along with being rich, beautiful, and Mensa-smart. It was unfair, really. If only she’d been standing next to Kelsey when all those worlds collided.
“I know how to pick my friends.”
Harper laughed. “If you’re referring to me, I’m hardly normal.”
“True, but you keep me grounded.”
The women rushed up the path between patches of sage scrub and jagged shoulders of stone. The Cantor mansion stood above them, a half-timbered marvel of plaster and beams. Like it had squirreled itself away on a German pirate’s ship many centuries past and collided with the cliff on the obligatory dark and stormy night. Shipwrecked, of course. All fifteen thousand square feet.
Feet.The strangest measurement of success, Harper thought, but it seemed everyone in Hollywood circles wanted to know how many feet a person owned and if those feet were located behind exclusively locked gates. The Cantor mansion alone overlooked a thousand-foot span of sea.
She didn’t own much, but on sunny days like this, she flaunted her two feet, painting her nails and padding shoeless around the estate’s grounds. Who needed thousands upon thousands of feet squared when they had an entire coast to explore?
Warm sand poured over her toes as she took another step. “I’m here to humor you, Kelsey.”
“And you do it well,” she said. “Dad’s rat pack is on their way, and you’re infatuated by your own script.”
“I was caught up in the story!”
“Impress Dad with dinner first and then maybe you can hand it over.”
“Your dad barely knows I exist.” Even though she’d lived on his estate for fifteen of her twenty-three years, even though she’d helped with catering on several of his movies and taken over the official role of housekeeper after her mom passed away, Evan preferred communicating with her through his personal assistant.
Nine months ago, she’d applied to work on the production team of his next movie. Four years of film school behind her and not even the courtesy of a rejection.
The two screenplays she’d given Evan had been ignored. Not that he’d actually make a movie from her work, but feedback was what she craved most. To become the kind of writer who would attract his attention. Instead of seeking out a producer or director on her own, she wanted to write a script that he might recommend.
If not, she was one in a million with a script that would never be found.
Kelsey glanced at her. “My dad is quite aware of your existence at the moment.”
“Only because I’m late.” And, admittedly, rotten at the job her mom once thrived in. Harper kept things running well enough while the Cantor family was away, but these elaborate events with their many Evan-peculiar details overwhelmed her.
On days like this, she wanted to escape into the safety of her latest story, but her imaginary world didn’t provide a job or housing. Without taking over her mother’s prior role, she’d never be able to afford living in SoCal. Even at twenty-three, with her mom gone, Harper still wanted to make her proud.
The women circled the estate’s swimming pool, its underwater tiles shaped like the sea creature that made Evan the Great famous, then they stepped onto a flagstone patio with cozy couches and fire features that remained dormant. In the cooler months, the patio would be ablaze with gaslit tables, pits, and bowls.
