They walked out together. Lucas was helping Joyce and Beryl with their things. He glanced at Frankie, then did a double take. “Wow. You look…” He exhaled. “You are always beautiful, but it’s like the dial got turned up to eleven.”
She laughed, feeling pretty in a way she wasn’t sure she ever had before. “Clive is really good.”
So good, she was going to give him a discount if he ever needed anything from her.
Chapter Four
Harper handled all of her waiting emails, did twenty minutes on the elliptical in the rec room, then showered and dressed in rolled-cuff jeans, an easy T-shirt, and flipflops. Cute enough. There was no point getting too fancy if she was going to end up with a dog in her lap.
She dried her hair, did some light, easy makeup, then checked the time. Several hours to go before she was supposed to meet Mitch to look for a dog to adopt. But she’d gotten ready early on purpose. Before she met him, she had another situation to deal with.
Jack.
She stood in the living room and thought about how to start the conversation that needed to happen. Should she come right out with it and just ask him what was going on? Why he was here? Or would that make him defensive?
This had been his father’s house, but it belonged to her now. He was on her property. Not that she would use that as leverage to get him to talk. That wouldn’t be right. In truth, if Jack and Teddy had fought Arlington’s will, they might have taken this place away from her.
They hadn’t fought it. Hadn’t been anything but gracious about it.
She felt like she owed them for that. But she also deserved to know why Jack was here. He’d used the word “trouble” himself. She kept getting stuck on that.
What kind of trouble? Drugs? Alcohol? Teddy had had his issues. He’d also dealt with them, but such things were sadly commonplace in Hollywood. Had Jack fallen into the same kind of thing? He’d always been a bit of a partier.
Or was his trouble more the female kind? Jack was known as a playboy. Women loved him. He was kind and generous and laidback in a way that often saw him defined as a real Californian.
He’d never settled down. He’d been linked to a lot of women, even had long-term relationships with several, but had yet to marry one. Harper had once offered to help him with his commitment issues, but he’d just smiled and told her commitment wasn’t a problem. After all, he’d owned the same F150 pickup truck since 1984, when his father had given it to him as a high school graduation present.
She hadn’t bothered explaining that owning a car and getting married were not the same things. Clearly, he hadn’t wanted to talk about it.
She was just going to have to go over there and use every skill she had to get him to tell her what was going on. And if that didn’t work, she always had Teddy as a backup. She really didn’t want to resort to calling him.
With no real game plan, she walked through the house, down the hall past the office, and out the door to the connecting breezeway.
The curtains were open at the guest house and the television, which she could see through the windows, was on. Sports.
She knocked on the door.
Jack came to answer in cargo shorts, a well-worn T-shirt, and several days’ worth of stubble, his shoulder-length sun-streaked hair pulled back in a ponytail. Somehow, he still looked like one of the most eligible bachelors in L.A.
“Harper.” He lifted the bottle of sparkling water in his hand in greeting. “What’s up, man?”
“I was hoping we could talk a little. Catch up. Are you free?”
“Sure thing. Just watching some ball. No big. Come on in. Sorry about theau naturelswimming earlier. Hope I didn’t scar your sister for life or anything like that, man.”
She laughed softly. “Frankie will be fine. In fact, you might have given her a new core memory.”
He chuckled. “I live to serve, man.” He gestured toward the couch. “Pop a squat. Tell me what’s up with you.”
He sat in the recliner and turned the volume down.
She hadn’t come over to talk about herself, but it might help him open up. Especially if she shared information no one else knew yet. She took a seat on the couch. “I’m loving life here in Hideaway Bay. I haven’t told anyone outside of my family and friends here, but I’m going to make this my permanent home.”
His brows rose. “Get out. Good for you. L.A.’s a rat race, man. You’re smart to get out. Dad would love that.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. He hated L.A. most of the time. Hated the movie business half the time. But it was part of him, you know? In his blood.”
