This might be one of the hardest secrets she’d ever have to keep. Wasn’t like she wanted to tell the general public about it. But not being able to share with Frankie, who was also a fan of the books, was going to be hard.
She used the path between the houses, walking into hers without much thought until she didn’t get a greeting from Archie or Frankie. “Hello? Anyone home?”
Having initially only gone next door for honey, she hadn’t taken her phone. It was still on the kitchen counter where she’d left it.
She checked it and found a text from Frankie. Harper grinned as she read it. Lucas definitely liked Frankie. That was all there was to it.
She put the bread and toaster away, now that she no longer needed breakfast, then took her phone into the bedroom and fired up her laptop. She wanted to send Mitch the NDA immediately, so they could square that away and get started.
There was always the possibility he’d balk at the price. But he’d made a point of telling her he could afford her rates, so she doubted he’d say anything. He might cut back the hours he wanted her over there. That would be telling.
She didn’t care. She was happy to work with him however he wanted to handle it.
She pulled up the NDA paperwork, signed her part of it, then saved the document with his name attached. She hit Compose on her email program and realized she didn’t have his address. Not surprising that she’d forgotten to ask for it. She’d been a little flustered that he’d wanted to hire her.
It had just come as such a shock. As had the change in his attitude toward her. Was it really all because she’d helped him with his book?
If so, that was interesting to her. For a man so deeply lost in the depths of his grief, being able to write must feel like a lifeline of sorts.
Maybe it was because writing allowed him time away from his grief. It was never really gone, Harper understood that, but being in the world of Charlie Nightingale gave him a valid way to escape.
While he was writing, he was allowed to put his grief away. It would always be there when he was done. But writing must feel like such a relief.
Not writing had probably just compounded his grief. Making him hyperaware of just how much the loss of his wife was affecting him.
No wonder he’d been miserable and moody and cranky about everything. That was no way to live.
And while he might only want Harper’s help with the writing, she really hoped she could do something to alleviate his grief. There were a few techniques she knew of that could be useful for him. If he was willing.
He might not be. He might shut her down immediately when it came to the subject of dealing with his pain. But Harper would approach slowly and with compassion. She’d come at it from the point of view that dealing with his grief would give his mind and soul relief, which would pay off in the writing.
That might make it more acceptable for him.
She texted Joyce.I need Mitch’s email address and I don’t want to bother him. Do you have it?
Joyce replied right away with the email then followed it with a note.I’m well pleased you’re going to be around more. You’re good for him. Just don’t tell Himself I said that. She included a smiley face and another face laughing so hard tears came from the eyes.
Harper chuckled. Joyce was really something.
She set the phone aside and finished sending Mitch the email, then added his address to her contacts. She picked up her phone again, opened the calculator app, and did some fast math. If Mitch wanted her five hours a week minimum, that was going to be a pretty tidy sum. Enough that she could easily live on it. At least here, where there was no mortgage or rent, and Arlington had provided her with an account to cover the basic expenses for several years.
Of course, she wasn’t going to live here. Her life was in California. Her clients, except for Mitch, were there, too.
But it was fun to think about. This place was great. It was so peaceful. And that backyard was perfect for Archie. He’d even made a friend.
She leaned back on the pillows and sighed. Hopefully, Mitch would be okay continuing things via video conferencing when she went back.
Her phone buzzed. She checked the screen. Prisha was calling. Harper answered. “Hi, there. How are you?”
“I am fine. But I am a little worried.”
Harper’s forehead wrinkled. “Why? What’s going on?”
“I was talking to Suzanne at Pilates class this morning and she asked if I’d been spending time with you. I told her I hadn’t seen you since the day at the beach, not that it’s any of her business. She told me that was good, because…” Prisha exhaled an unhappy sigh.
“Because why?” Harper was genuinely curious.
“She said you weren’t what you seemed, and I should steer clear. Listen, I don’t know what Suzanne means exactly, but I don’t think that of you at all. I think you’re lovely. But Suzanne likes to stir the pot, if you know what I mean. Anything that puts her at the center of attention.”
