Frankie’s expression remained the same. “Did you go to school for all that? I thought you ended up waiting tables after one semester of college?”
“I did. And that’s where it all started.”
“So you went back to school?”
Harper shook her head slowly.
“You’re not trained to do any of that stuff?”
Harper squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “No. But people think I am. And I haven’t corrected them. I don’t ever say that I am, but they make assumptions and…” She shrugged. “It’s not good. I know it’s not good. But I started making money and I developed a business plan that kept me protected and I couldn’t stop, because there were so many people who needed me.”
Frankie finger-combed her wet hair, then leaned forward. “I can see why you’re so worried now. You’re afraid the media’s going to figure out what your name is, who you are, then do a deep dive and find out you’re a fraud. Sorry, not a great word, but—”
“But it’s what I am. And, yes, you’re exactly right. My entire life, the one I’ve built for myself, is about to come crashing down.” Harper hugged her knees closer. “What am I going to do?”
“Nothing’s happened yet. I know you’re freaking out but there’s not a reason to until there is a reason to. Look, let’s get out of the sun. I’m baking. We can get showers, change into comfy clothes, and do nothing but talk and watch trash TV the rest of the night. While drinking wine and eating shrimp.”
Harper smiled and sniffed. Frankie was the best. “Thank you for not judging me.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you. You’re my big sister. I love you.”
They gathered their things, including Archie, who’d beat them to the door, and went inside.
Harper went to her bathroom and took a hot shower. She’d been hot outside, but coming into an air-conditioned house with a wet bathing suit and wet hair had instantly given her the chills. The hot water felt good.
It eased her internal restlessness, too. Much like Frankie had. There was something so solid and secure about Frankie that just being around her made Harper feel like everything would be all right. Even if it wasn’t.
She returned to leggings and a T-shirt, then towel-dried her hair some more before going out to the living room. She opened the fridge and eyed the bottles of good champagne.
Frankie joined her, dressed very similarly. “Getting a snack?”
“No. Thinking about what to drink.”
“You’re looking at that champagne, aren’t you?”
“I am. What do you say? Should we crack open a bottle?”
Frankie wrinkled her nose. “I’m not a big fan of champagne. It always tastes like vinegar to me.”
Impending doom made Harper carefree. She pulled out a bottle. “Then you’ve never had the good stuff.”
“I’m sure I haven’t.”
Harper started to unscrew the little wire cage over the cork. “Let’s see what you think of this. You want to grab some glasses?”
“Sure.” Frankie went to the cabinet with the glasses in it. “How good is that champagne?”
“Really good but not crazy expensive. Maybe seventy or eighty bucks a bottle.”
Frankie brought two flutes over, eyes slightly rounded. “That’s crazy expensive to me, but I guess it wouldn’t have been to Arlington.”
Harper popped the cork, then poured two glasses. She set the bottle aside and lifted hers. “Here’s to sharing the good and the bad. And to you for not judging me. And to us getting to spend time together.”
Frankie lifted her glass. “Cheers to all of that and to you for inviting me.”
They both took a sip.
“Mmm,” Frankie said. “That’s really good. It’s creamy. How is champagne creamy?”
