"Well, I did tell you to get close," Bea said. "But be careful. Attachments can get messy."
"Understood."
Movement caught her attention on the bridge. Harley, who kept the mangroves cut back in the Everglades, strolled across the pavement. Nice girl, though insanely quiet. Maybe too quiet.
"I gotta go," Juniper said. "I'll check in later." She closed the laptop and set it on the small table. Leaning back, she stretched out her legs, snagged her mug, and went back to enjoying the morning as she waved to Harley. "You're out and about early, and why are you walking?" Juniper felt a kinship with Harley, and she wasn't sure why. Harley had been a resident a little longer than Juniper, but like Juniper, Harley had no ties to the town.
She'd grown up in Tampa. Parents died when she'd been real young. Raised by her grandma who died when the poor girl had been only nineteen. Or, at least, that's what Juniper had heard from Cullen. And that was about all anyone seemed to know about Harley.
"My car broke down," Harley said as she meandered up the driveway. "Fletcher said I could borrow his beater. I've got a few residential mangrove trims to do on the outskirts of town, and it would take me more than two hours to get to one of them if I went by boat. Especially mine."
"Yeah, but you'd be out in the water."
"Not getting paid to and from, though."
"You want a cup of coffee?" Juniper asked.
"No thank you." Harley held up a fancy travel tumbler. "But do you mind if I come up and chat? I was kind of hoping you might be awake and at your usual perch this morning."
"I'd love the company."
Harley climbed the steps and settled into the other chair, leaning it back on two legs, like furniture existed to be tested. She looked out at the channel and let out a breath. "This is a nice piece of property."
"It's amazing." Juniper followed her gaze to the water. "One of the nicest places I've ever lived. Maybe not the house. But that view. I'll never tire of it."
"Even from my side of the canal it's something." Harley shook her head. "You'd never know the rent over there was its own kind of crime. It's funny—I once lived in a house where my closet was the size of the trailer I'm renting. I even had the clothes to fill that closet. Now, I don't have enough clothes to fill a closet the size of a shoebox."
That was a piece of information Juniper hadn't heard before. "More than a couple pairs of good jeans and a few shirts with inappropriate sayings on them is overrated," Juniper said. "Withthe exception of a good pair of heels. Every woman needs at least one good pair of dancing shoes."
"I've got bare feet for that."
Juniper wiggled her toes. "Those work too, but not on my bar floor." She raised her mug and watched as the heron gave up on its stretch of shallows and lifted off like it had better things to do somewhere deep in the Everglades.
Silence settled between them. Juniper loved the quiet—when she was alone. She craved it—when she was by herself. But with others, she wanted to fill that silence. In a strange way, being around people reminded her that she was alone. That she'd lost the one person who’d made a difference.
At the bar, she had the chatter of other people. She had music. And of course, everyone wanted to tell their problems to the bartender. It's why she enjoyed pouring drinks. Not only did she get to spend her nights with the person she was being paid to watch, but she got to hear about the town gossip.
Sitting on this porch, she got the view, but she also had a bird's eye view of Sterling's driveway. It might be a tiny speck from this distance, but she could see it. And if she needed a closer view, one of her camera feeds was pointed right at it.
However, right now, the quiet of the person sitting next to her was making Juniper twitch. "You want to tell me what's bothering you?"
Harley's chair came down on all four legs. "Is it that obvious?"
"No." Juniper stared into her mug. "But I learn my regulars. You've always been quiet. But you never come up and sit next to me and have nothing to say."
"It's Cullen."
"Are you two an item?" Most thought they were. Or hoped they were becoming one. The townspeople had understood that Cullen had demons to chase away, which he'd done. And he hada boy that needed his father's love, which he was getting. So, no one understood why it wasn't happening.
"Everyone asks us that, and while I wouldn't mind it if we were, we're not."
"Mind if I ask why?"
"At first, it was because I didn't want to get involved with him." Harley shrugged. "He had a lot to work through. But then, it became all about him getting visitation rights. And now, it's all about maintaining those and developing a positive relationship with his ex and his kid."
"That's important. But he sees his kid regularly. He's wearing clean clothes, and his hair no longer looks like a caveman." Juniper knew she shouldn't joke, but sometimes, these situations called for a little light humor.
Harley laughed, but it didn't last long. "I don't want to ever stand in the way of him being with Tyler." Harley turned the travel tumbler in her hands. "Cullen's been working three jobs. He's hoping that someday Aegis Network will be able to hire him full-time. But until then, he's busting his ass to show he's capable of taking care of himself and his son."
