He glanced up at Harper.
Her heart was thumping loudly in her ears. She nodded for him to go on.
“What’s been said about me online has been a mixture of one fact and many lies. The fact is Iwasinvolved with Ford Keating. We had a mutual and civil parting of the ways. I wish him all the happiness he deserves. The lies you’ve already read, if you’ve seen what’s been posted about me by the gossip sites. Lies make for outstanding clickbait. I understand that.”
“Yeah, they do,” Frankie muttered. “This is good.”
Mitch went on. “What I don’t understand was why I was targeted, but perhaps it was because the person behind all of this didn’t think I’d stand up for myself. Or perhaps she thought I was a soft target, and that by tearing me down, she could build herself up. Or maybe it was just for the money. Whatever her reasoning, I feel sorry for her. No one likes a bully, and, in my experience, the bully rarely likes themselves, either.”
“Nice,” Willa said, nodding appreciatively.
“My promise to my clients remains the same. I am a vault they can trust. Nothing that has ever been shared with me will ever be revealed. My hope for all those reading this is that you rise above the noise and find your own peace. Sincerely, Harper Calhoun.”
Mitch looked at her. “I’m going to write up a more personalized version of this that you can send to all of your clients first. That’s what I would do anyway. Reach out to them, let them know you’ll be making a public statement, then post this about fifteen minutes later.”
“That was good,” Harper said. “Really good. I don’t think I could have come up with something like that. Certainly nothing better. Thank you so much.” She glanced at Lucas. “Thank you both.”
“You’re welcome.” He nodded, half of a cookie still in his hand. “Nice work, Mitch.”
“Thanks,” Mitch said. “You sure you’re happy with it, Harper? Anything else you want to add? Or take out?”
“No. It’s really perfect.” Harper exhaled. Her head hurt from the day’s emotional output. She looked around the room. Willa and Joyce were smiling. She smiled back. “Thank you all for being here for me. That’s pretty amazing and I won’t forget it.”
“I’ll email you a copy of this,” Mitch said, his fingers going back to the keyboard. “I’ll have the client letter for you in a few minutes.”
“Great,” Harper said. “It’s nearly dinnertime. I feel like I should feed you all as a way of saying thanks.”
Joyce gasped and looked at her watch. “That chicken needs to come out of the oven in five minutes. It’s not enough for seven people, though.”
Lucas got to his feet. “I bet I can do something about that.” He pointed to the kitchen as he looked at Harper. “Mind if I see what’s on hand?”
“Help yourself.”
He smiled at Joyce. “You want to bring that chicken over here?”
“If Mitch doesn’t mind,” Joyce answered.
Mitch shook his head. “Do whatever you want. I need to finish this other letter.”
Willa jumped up. “I can help.”
Harper sat in amazement. Did these people know what a gift this was to her? Just seeing this flurry of activity, the way they’d pulled together around her, some of them without even knowing the whole story. All they’d known was…her.
It was deeply touching and not something she’d ever forget. Obviously, damage had been done. Some of that damage couldn’t be undone, either. She’d have to live with those consequences, but what was happening right now in this house was making this awful incident feel survivable.
Very different from what she’d been feeling just a few hours ago.
“Thank you,” she whispered in Mitch’s direction.
He kept typing away. Then he looked up and smiled. “I don’t mean to make light of what’s happened to you, but it’s been a good distraction.”
She smiled, too. “I’m okay with that.”
Forty-five minutes later, the letter to her clients was sent, the public statement had been posted on her own social media with all the tags Lucas had suggested, it had been sent to his influencer friends, and they were all sitting down to the dinner Lucas had created for them with the help of Joyce’s chicken.
Except for Archie and Scout, who were taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention to them to lay on the couch.
With Willa’s help, Lucas had diced up the chicken and mixed it with fettucine, along with peas and sundried tomatoes in a dill cream sauce. Then he’d crisped up the chicken skin, chopped it into small bits, and sprinkled it over the top of the whole thing. A hearty salad and dishes of olives made up the sides.
