“It shows. That’s one of the many things I love and admire about you. You’re the most un-Hollywood star I know. You work your butt off, giving your adoring fans your all.”
Knock. Knock.Steven’s door opened. The receptionist peeked around the corner. “Your next appointment is here.”
“Thanks, Kara. Give me five.”
“Will do.”
He escorted Harlow across the room. “About Robert.”
“Yes?”
“He landed Cheyenne an auditionanda commercial.”
Harlow arched her eyebrow. “When?”
“It’s already been filmed. He hasn’t gotten the final approval and asked me if I would critique it to give Cheyenne some pointers in the event it gets axed.”
“Have you?”
“Not yet. He sent it over yesterday. I told Robert I would give constructive feedback by tomorrow.”
“What kind of commercial?”
“To be honest, I was in the middle of something else and have no idea,” Steven said. “He’s pushing hard to get her foot in the door.”
“Robert is panicking. He knows he’s running out of time,” she said. “Six months and his gravy train has left the station.”
He laughed out loud. “Then he’s definitely scrambling. See you in Pittsburgh.”
“I can’t wait.” Harlow made her way back to the lobby, thinking about what Steven had said and curious to find out if Cheyenne was on her way to getting her first break in the biz. Robert was trying his hardest, at least Steven thought so, and he would know.
Reaching the lobby, she found Eryn staring at her phone, an empty coffee cup on the table next to her. She noticed Harlow and jumped to her feet. “All done?”
“I’ve finished my last meeting and am ready for a long, sweaty workout before we paint Tinseltown red.”
*****
Marty, her friend and island taxi driver, hoisted Harlow’s bag into the back while she climbed the step and boarded the horse-drawn wagon. “How was your trip?”
“A whirlwind. Eryn and I visited the movie set in Pittsburgh and then flew to LA to meet with the director and get the keys to my apartment.”
After loading the bag, he climbed onto the bench seat beside her. “Bummer.”
“What’s a bummer?”
“You’re leaving soon. Those extra side tours past Lighthouse Lane and Wynn Harbor Inn are going to tank which means the ka-ching I’ve been pocketing will be history.”
Several weeks ago, after catching wind that visitors were arriving with a single goal in mind—to catch a glimpse of the elusive Harlow Wynn, she’d jokingly suggested that Marty start a side gig, picking people up at the docks and giving them a tour of the island including Harlow’s recently-purchased cottage and her father’s place.
It had worked like gangbusters. After he finished his day job, Marty and his horse, Chance, spent the evenings raking in a tidy chunk of change. She’d even suggested he let them know he was a personal friend of Harlow’s, which gave him an edge over others who had also jumped on the “bandwagon” and started offering custom tours.
“No way. You can still take them past Lighthouse Lane and Dad’s place.” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “You don’t have to let them know I’m out of town.”
“Good point.” Marty brightened. “I could even add Cheyenne Clifton’s apartment to the tour route. I heard she’s on the verge of becoming a household name.”
Harlow thought about her meeting with Steven the previous day, how Robert had forwarded the woman’s commercial, asking for feedback. She’d tried convincing herself she wasn’t the least bit interested, but the nagging thought that her ex was working overtime, trying to launch Cheyenne’s career was concerning. He had other, more important tasks, to worry about—mainly focusing his energy on Harlow’s top-tier career.
She pointedly changed the subject, asking him if he’d noticed the construction crews at Lighthouse Lane.
