“And the key worked.”
Harper laughed. “As did the alarm code, thankfully. Arlington left an escrow account set up to pay the taxes and utilities on this place, too, along with a few other things. Enough to cover the next five years.”
Frankie leaned in. “Seriously? That’s amazing. You’re going to stay here, right?”
Harper shook her head. “That wasn’t my plan. Just to get away while things calm down.Ifthey calm down.” She suddenly cleared her throat. “Which I’m sure they will. Do you mind a little black pepper?”
“No, that’s fine.” Something was up. Why would Harper think the news about her breakup with Ford Keating might not go away? It was like she expected something worse to come from it.
“Were you his assistant? Is that what you’re worried about people finding out?”
“No. I didn’t work for him. We met at Arlington’s funeral and just got to talking. Mostly about Arlington, but we hit it off.”
“I see.” Except Frankie didn’t. Not really. Harper was acting like there was something serious to be worried about and Frankie just didn’t get it. But she wasn’t in the mood to dig deeper. She’d only arrived, and she just wanted to have a good time with her sister. She wanted to catch up and reconnect and keep things on a good level.
Then, when the moment was right, she’d share the big news she’d been holding back. She really had no idea how Harper would react. She might love it. And she might be totally against it. “What can I help with? Doesn’t seem fair that you’re doing all the work.”
“You opened the wine.”
Frankie nodding, smiling. “True, but that wasn’t exactly hard. Do you want me to set the table?”
“I was thinking we’d just take our plates outside. There’s a table out there. If that’s all right with you?”
“I love that idea. What’s the point of having this kind of view if you don’t take it in?”
“My thoughts exactly.” Harper opened a few cabinets, both top and bottom, until she found a strainer. She put it in the sink, then went back to the pasta and tested a piece of it. “Just about done.”
She added a decent glug of white wine to the pan with the bacon, then the lemon juice and mixed it with a wooden spoon.
“That smells so good,” Frankie said. “How did you learn to make this dish?”
“I’ve picked up a lot of great dishes from my clients. I know most people think Hollywood celebrities all have personal chefs, and to some extent, that’s true, but a lot of them know how to cook, too. Mostly because going out to eat generally becomes more of a bother than it’s worth.”
Frankie rested her elbow on the counter and leaned her chin on her hand. “That has to be such a hard way to live. Always being watched. Chased after, even, in some circumstances.”
Harper dumped the peas and chicken into the sauté pan as well, then did some more stirring. “It’s incredibly hard.”
“I guess you’re feeling a little bit of that right now, aren’t you?”
“Some. Yes. Nothing like what real celebrities go through, though.” Harper’s brow furrowed and she chewed her bottom lip. She quickly moved to empty the pasta into the strainer. A wall of steam hid her from Frankie for a moment.
Something was definitely bothering Harper. Something more than what she’d told Frankie, obviously. Frankie was concerned, but as curious as she was, she was not going to pry. If Harper wanted to talk about whatever was going on, she’d bring it up.
Or she wouldn’t.
Either way, it was Harper’s business. She and Frankie were getting closer as time passed, but they weren’t the kind of sisters who told each other everything.
Not yet anyway. Maybe that would change soon.
Or maybe Frankie’s revelation would put them right back to square one.
ChapterTwelve
Archie was close at hand as they carried their plates and glasses outside. The day was cooling off as the sun sank toward the horizon and streaks of pale pink stretched out across the sky.
“It is so beautiful here,” Frankie said.
Harper nodded. “It really is.” It was even better sharing a view like this with her sister. “I’m so glad you came down.”
