She heard Beck come into the room, the clunk of his briefcase as he set it down, the thump of his shoes as he left the room. The swish of the door as it closed. Her heart drummed. She glanced up in time to watch him enter West’s office, which was currently empty.
Disappointment and despair washed over her. Beck hadn’t fired her or kicked her out, but he sure had written her out of his life. And she wasn’t sure why. She’d told him she didn’t want a one-night stand, and before that, he’d known she was interested in a long-term relationship. Why act as if she’d ripped out his heart and trampled on it?
Maybe Kimberly was right. Maybe Harlow had left a mark.
Shouldn’t get my hopes up. Letting the descriptions of the character profiles play through her mind and guide her hand, she worked for several hours. One image after another came to life on the page, but none of them satisfied her. There was no spark. The images fit the narratives but lacked any sign of life. When she found herself subconsciously adding Beck’s features to the hero of the game, well, she decided to call it quits for the day.
She had to talk to someone about what was going on. She desperately needed advice, her inexperience cloying, choking her. She’d never get anything done, otherwise. But who could she call?
Beck was her only real friend, but the only advice he’d give her was get naked and get in bed.
Brook Lynn might be willing to listen. While they weren’t bosom buddies, they didn’t hate each other, either. At least Harlow hoped not. There was only one way to find out...
Harlow picked up the phone and dialed. Beck had given her a list of names and numbers soon after she’d begun working for him, just in case she had questions about something when he wasn’t around.
Brook Lynn answered on the third ring. “Hey, Beck. What’s up?”
“Uh, it’s Harlow.”
“Oh. Um. Hi.”
“Listen. I know it’s weird I’m calling, and you will never be my biggest fan, but I have nowhere else to turn, and I need help.”
One beat of awkward silence, two. “Are you calling to discuss your plans for the zombie apocalypse?”
“No. Nothing like that.” Harlow peered through the glass into West’s office. Beck had a phone to his ear. He threw back his head and laughed at whatever the speaker had just said. Confirming plans with his date tonight? A knife of jealousy stabbed at her chest.
“Then what do you want, Harlow?” Brook Lynn prompted.
“Harlow? As in Harlow Glass?” Jessie Kay said in the background. “What’s she doing calling you?”
Ignore her. “Well, the problem is Beck, and I—”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” Brook Lynn said. “I won’t give you any dirt on him.”
“She wants dirt on him?” another voice gasped in the background. Kenna Starr, maybe.
“I don’t want dirt,” she rushed out. “Besides, I already know about his past.”
“How?” Brook Lynn demanded.
Okay, so, this call had been a mistake. Noted. “He told me. How else?”
“He told you?”
“Yes.” But that had nothing to do with her problem. “Look, I shouldn’t have—”
“What did he tell you?”
Curses! Would the girl always interrupt? “You’ll have to forgive me, Brook Lynn, but I won’t give you dirt on him, either. I don’t know what he’s shared with you and what he hasn’t. I won’t betray his confidence.”
Silence.
Would Brook Lynn hang up now?
“All right. How can I help you?” the girl asked again, and this time a layer of warmth wrapped her tone.
Uh, talk about confusing. But if the spunky blonde who’d managed to snag the town dragon was finally willing to listen... “Well, Beck and I kissed last night and now—”
“You kissed?”
“They kissed!” Jessie Kay demanded.
Argh! “Would you please stopping butting in? You are the most frustrating person on the planet right now.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Brook Lynn said. “Where are you? No, you know what, forget I asked. You’re at Beck’s office. Duh. Caller ID. In just a few minutes, Beck is going to get a call. Soon after, he’ll leave. And soon after that, I will arrive—I’m currently at Two Farms—and we will finish this conversation in person.”
Click.
Okay. Wow. But true to the girl’s word, Beck received a call on his cell phone before he stuck his head into Harlow’s—his—office.
“I have to go,” he announced. He wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“Oh. Is something wrong?” Did she sound too breezy?
“Nothing I can’t handle.” He was gone a few seconds later—and she realized she missed him already.
What the heck is wrong with me?
As she began to pace, she noticed Cora received a call, as well, and left soon after. Then Brook Lynn arrived with her sister and, yep, Kenna Starr. The best friend. Harlow was too worked up to care about the potential hate mob.
The girls invaded the office, each pulling a chair up to the desk. Brook Lynn appeared giddy, Jessie Kay suspicious and the redheaded Kenna befuddled.
“How did you get Beck to leave?” Harlow asked.
“Had Jase call him for a bro-mergency,” Brook Lynn said. “Meaning Jase is finally telling him how Tawny Ferguson has been coming to the house, asking questions about Beck. She’s there now, in fact.”