Harper laughed, the sweetness of her sister discovering new things and the champagne bubbles lifting her mood. “Because it’s good. It’s not sweet but it’s not dry, either, so it doesn’t have that minerally aftertaste you get with a brut.”
“I know nothing about champagne but okay.” Frankie took another sip. “It’s got a sort of slightly nutty, slightly fruity thing going on, too. Man, this stuff is fantastic.” She glanced at the fridge. “How many bottles are in there?”
“Two left, now.”
“We shouldn’t drink more than this one tonight.”
“Fine with me,” Harper said.
Frankie took her glass to the couch, so Harper followed. Archie was already there, on his blanket. They settled in and Harper took another sip before putting her glass down. “Do you think I should talk to Suzanne? Just flat-out ask her what she’s up to?”
Frankie shook her head. “No, because if she’s not up to something, she might be after you talk to her.”
“I know, it’s a risky move, but I was thinking that if I made her aware that I’m aware of her, she might back off. Of course, I promised Prisha I wouldn’t mention her name, so how would I explain to Suzanne that I knew anything?”
“Or, like I said, you could make it worse.”
“You think I should do nothing, don’t you?”
“I really do. Anything else might cause something to happen.” Frankie tipped her glass back for another sip. “I’d really like to know how you became a professional confidante. Can we go back to that? Please?”
Harper took a few breaths as she collected her thoughts. “It all started when I was waitressing. College was expensive and I was determined to pay for it myself, so after one semester, I told my parents I was taking a year off to save some money. I was waitressing during the breakfast shift at this diner, then I’d go home, sleep a few hours, and work three nights a week bartending at another place. The money was good. But I was burning the candle at both ends and constantly tired.”
“I bet.”
“I had this sweet older man who used to come into the diner for breakfast every morning. He was a great tipper. Ten bucks minimum, even if he only had the special. Louie. Anyway, we used to talk all the time when he was there.”
Frankie sat quietly, just listening.
“About six months after I first met him, he came in and wasn’t in his usual good mood. I brought him coffee and asked what was wrong. He told me he had a dilemma. A choice to make. I don’t even remember what it was now. Well, I was fresh off my semester of psychology and thought I knew everything. I told him, nicely, what I thought he should do.
“The next day he came back, a big smile on his face, and told me my advice had been spot on and he wanted to hire me. He said he needed someone exactly like me, someone who told the truth, unvarnished, as he put it. A sounding board, he called me. Not to mention a fresh, youthful perspective.”
Frankie’s brows went up.
“He offered me a job as his personal confidante at three times what I was making from both jobs. It wasn’t hard to say yes.”
Frankie nodded. “No kidding.”
“I quit both jobs that day. The next morning, I showed up at the address he’d given me. Come to find out, he was Louie Franklin, a big movie producer. I had no idea. He’d never said a word.” Harper shrugged. “The rest, as they say, is history. Whenever he had a friend or a star who needed some kind of help, he’d recommend me. He’d tell them I was exactly the right person for them. And he always told them I charged an exorbitant hourly rate. None of them balked because Louie had vouched for me.”
Archie rolled over, showing his belly. Frankie reached out to scratch him with her free hand.
“Eventually, I came up with the whole non-disclosure agreement business because I knew I had to protect myself. But it made my clients feel better, too.”
Frankie emptied her glass and set it on the coffee table. “The secrets you must know.”
Harper smiled. “I know a lot. But they’ll go to my grave with me. I take what I do very seriously. I know being a celebrity seems glamourous, and sometimes, it really is. But so many of them don’t have anyone they can really trust. And no one ever tells them the truth. People tell them what they think the star wants to hear. Or what they think they need to say in order to sell their product to the star. Whether that’s a movie or a thing to endorse, it’s all the same. And all so fake.”
“And you provide an antidote to that.”
“I try,” Harper said.
“It sounds like a pretty valuable service you offer. I had no idea.”
“No one did, except for the people I worked for.” It was nice to tell her sister the truth. Nice to share that part of her life. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Frankie said. “Ask me anything.”
