Everyone ate enthusiastically. The pasta was so good that not a word was spoken for the first few minutes. Mouths were too full. Then the compliments came.
Harper wasn’t surprised her appetite had returned, despite three of her clients firing her. Four had sent notes of love and support, reaffirming their commitment to work with her. And, of course, she still had Mitch. The other four clients had yet to respond, but they would. Probably as soon as they weren’t on a film set or on a private island or at a mindfulness retreat or wherever they were.
Inspired by the moment, she stood, picking up her glass of water. “Thank you, everyone, for turning this disastrous day into a wonderful reminder about the power of family and friends. I am so appreciative of all of you.”
She could feel herself getting emotional but that was all right. “I wouldn’t have gotten through this without each and every one of you.” She lifted her glass. “To all of you.”
They all lifted their glasses and drank.
Harper stayed standing. “Also, my apologies to my niece, Willa, for turning her first day of vacation into this nonsense.”
Willa laughed. “Um, no complaints. I’m in a house once owned by Arlington Marsh eating a meal made by Lucas Prime while sitting at the same table as Mitchell Ripley, so I’m good.”
They all laughed. Harper sat. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
As everyone went back to eating, Mitch, seated next to her, glanced at her and quietly said, “Are you?”
“More than I expected to be.”
“If there’s anything else I can do to help—”
“You’ve already done so much.” Harper didn’t want to ask him for anything else. She’d never taken advantage of any of her client relationships before. She wasn’t planning to start now.
“It was good to help.” He twirled pasta around his fork. “Do you think you’d be up for talking about the book later? At my place?”
She nodded. If he’d asked her to bungee jump, she would have said yes. She owed him. Even if he had helped because he was a decent human being, she felt indebted to him. “I’d love to. Good writing day, huh?”
A slight, proud smile bent his mouth. “It was. Thanks to you.” He lifted the fork to his mouth.
She went to work on the remains of her dinner, too. Also smiling. Crazy, the highs and lows a day could bring. And it wasn’t over yet.
But she looked forward to talking over the latest developments in his book. It would be nice to think about that instead of this other drama.
She snuck a look at him. He was talking with Willa about a plot point from the series that hadn’t actually been in the books.
What a difference a little conversation and understanding could make in a relationship. But then, that was true for most things in life.
Maybe she should make that part of her doctrine with clients. Because, clearly, she wasn’t getting out of the business of professional confidante anytime soon.
ChapterFifty-One
With the morning’s first cup of coffee in her, Frankie went back upstairs to shower and get ready for the day. And a big day it was. Today, she and Harper would meet Shar.
Last night, after everyone had left and dinner had been cleaned up, Frankie had laid out a pair of khaki capris and a short-sleeved white eyelet shirt. The outfit had seemed cute and summery when she’d packed it at home. Now it just looked…frumpy. She didn’t want to meet her birth mother looking frumpy.
She went out and stood at the top of the stairs to shout down. “Harper, what are you wearing?”
A few seconds passed before Harper stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. She was in her bathrobe. “Probably those ankle-length white denim jeans and a striped tank top. You’re not getting ready now, are you?”
“Sort of.”
“Why?”
“Because I suddenly hate everything I own, so I’m trying to figure out what I’m wearing now. Don’t you think you’ll be hot in those jeans?”
Harper made a face. “Not with the way every business in Florida keeps their air conditioning set to arctic tundra.”
“Good point.” Frankie nodded down at her sister. “Okay. Thanks.”
