A small voice in her head wondered what on earth he’d been thinking to allow the woman to wear such an outlandish outfit while filming the commercial.
Granted, it accentuated some of her “finer assets” but at least half of the target audience was women who wouldn’t be interested in seeing what Cheyenne had to offer. On the flip side, she had a domineering personality. Maybe she’d insisted on wearing the outfit and Robert had caved. Hopefully, he’d warned her it might not make the cut. Or maybe not. Maybe he figured Cheyenne should find out on her own.
With work and lunch out of the way, Harlow swapped out her comfy clothes for bumming around the yard and digging in the dirt attire. She slipped her cell phone in her jacket pocket and made it halfway to the door when it rang.
Glancing at the screen, she noticed it was Janice. “Hey, Janice.”
“Hello, Harlow. Before I forget, thank you for approving the press release.”
“You’re welcome. What you wrote is perfect.”
“How’s it going?”
“I finished memorizing lines this morning and now I’m going to dig in the dirt.”
“Dig in the dirt?”
“I find it therapeutic. Thanks again for sending over the commercial.” Harlow tapped the speaker button. “Have you watched it?”
“I have,” Janice snickered. “This is the best Robert could do for his protégé? I will say one thing about it. If the goal is to keep your product name top of the mind, it’s memorable. I’m not sure if I could keep a straight face if I ran into this woman.”
“She’s not a nice person. In fact, she’s snarky, snotty and rude,” Harlow said.
“Traits which won’t get her far in Hollywood when you’re forced to grovel, claw and beg for bottom of the barrel gigs, not to mention pounding on a lot of doors.”
“Doors that get slammed in your face. I won’t say anything to her or to Robert, although I may be tempted, especially if Cheyenne starts telling me how she’s going to be a bigger star than me.”
“By doing silly pharmaceutical gigs?” Janice snorted. “Not only is she rude, but she’s also delusional. So, she’s getting under your skin?”
“After cornering me in the grocery store. Had I known what she filmed, I might have cut her a little slack and offered some advice.”
“Because you’re a class act, Harlow.” Her publicist changed the subject. “The main reason for my call is the mole that’s been hanging around Mackinac Island spying on you is still at it.”
“Uh-oh.” Harlow’s heart plummeted. “Now what?”
“I’m not sure. An inside source told me he caught wind of a new hitjob being published.”
“About Robert or me?”
“Maybe both. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to warn you that you’ll be making the headlines again very soon.”
“I’ll do a little digging around.” Harlow lifted the lid on her laptop. “I’m also gonna see if I can find out if the Abuttrezil commercial has been given the green light.”
“I would love to know. Gotta go. I have another call coming in.”
Harlow set her phone aside and opened a new search screen. She typed her name in the search bar. A story from two weeks ago, about her new movie deal sat at the tippy top. Another story, this one about her rented apartment in Studio City was directly below it.
“These guys don’t miss a beat,” she groaned. “So much for putting the apartment in Vic’s name and slipping in under the radar.”
Scrolling down, she stopped when she noticed a photo of Robert standing in front of a boutique clothing store on Rodeo Drive. He wasn’t alone. Clicking on the photo, a beaming Cheyenne clutched his arm, smiling brightly at the camera, her hand on her hip and striking a seductive pose.
Skimming through the story, she quickly realized Robert had staged the photo op, to get Cheyenne in front of the camera. It was a brief blurb about the “up-and-coming” actor. The last paragraph mentioned Harlow’s name and their recent divorce.
She started to close out of the screen when another photo, this one a distant shot of Lighthouse Lane, caught her attention. Harlow noted the release date—that very morning. The caption read,Harlow Wynn’s new love nest, purchased in a secluded section of Mackinac Island.
Holding her breath, she double-clicked on the photo. She could feel the blood drain from her face when she realized what she was looking at. Harlow, with her hair mussed, wearing a silky robe loosely tied at the waist, stood in the doorway of Lighthouse Lane, smiling seductively at a man who stood a few feet away.
Chapter 13
