Page 2 of Birdie by the Bay (Wynn Harbor Inn #2)

Harlow helped clear the dishes after breakfast, but with limited mobility she seemed to be more in the way than actually helping. Finally, her aunt shooed her out of the kitchen.

Feeling restless, she grabbed her cell phone and wheeled herself out to the front porch. Thinking about her father’s plans for Wynn Harbor Inn and curious to find out a little more about Morgan Easton, Harlow turned her phone on and typed the woman’s name in the search bar.

The first story to pop up was about the medallion. Harlow began reading and soon became fascinated by how she’d tracked down the priceless artifact, hidden away at Locke Pointe, an inherited property owned by her mother’s family.

She did some preliminary research about Easton Holdings and Brett Easton, in particular.

Harlow clicked on his profile and enlarged the photo.

He was a good-looking guy. Dark hair with bangs swept off to the side, a boyish grin and mischievous expression.

Discovering he was single, Harlow suspected he had more than his share of women vying for his attention.

She opened a new tab, curious to find out if Morgan was married.

Another story appeared, along with a snapshot of her smiling, looking off to the side toward someone beyond the camera’s lens.

Next to it was a photo of a man, maybe a year or two older than Harlow—Jason Greer, Easton’s ex, who was serving time in prison.

“Wow.”

“Wow, what?” Aunt Birdie slipped out onto the porch.

“I started doing some research about the Easton family. Morgan has an interesting past.” Harlow told her aunt what she’d found.

“Your father mentioned Brett Easton. I’m sure you researched him as well.”

“Yep.” Harlow turned her phone so her aunt could see the photo.

Birdie let out a flirty whistle. “He’s a hottie. Maybe after you ditch the loser you’re married to you can hook up with this fellow. He looks like a catch.”

“Aunt Birdie,” Harlow chided. “Robert isn’t…a loser.”

Her aunt pursed her lips. “From everything I’ve learned, he’s trying to force you back to work before you’re ready.”

“Robert is business oriented. He sees everything in black and white.”

“I guess this is the reason he isn’t here? Because he’s busy handling business?” Birdie arched her eyebrow.

Harlow looked away. “He can be hard to understand.”

“Don’t make excuses for him, Harlow. A loving husband would want to be with his wife, caring for her.”

Her aunt’s blunt words stung her to the core.

Birdie wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know.

Still, the reality of the situation was that a man she loved had all but abandoned her.

Although he had shown up at Wynn Harbor Inn, attempting to bring her home.

Not because he had a change of heart and wanted to take care of Harlow.

He planned to dump her off at their place in Malibu to be looked after by a caregiver before leaving.

“Dad, and you, are both right. Robert is showing his true colors,” Harlow sighed.

“Better to find out now, before you have children.”

“Robert doesn’t want children.”

“Color me shocked,” her aunt said sarcastically.

“There’s more. I also think.” Harlow hesitated.

“Think what?” Birdie prompted.

“He’s having an affair with his assistant.” She braced for her aunt’s rant, but Birdie’s expression remained stoic. “You’re not surprised.”

“I’ve sat on the sidelines watching you soar,” her aunt finally replied. “You have it all, Harlow. Fame, fortune. You’re young and beautiful, at the pinnacle of your career. Yet here I sit thinking you look sad and lonely, perhaps maybe even depressed.”

Harlow could feel the back of her eyes burn.

Aunt Birdie saw it all. The hurt. The anger.

Feelings of unworthiness. No one had reached out to check on her.

Not Janice, her publicist. Not Selma, her housekeeper, a woman who had worked for the couple for years.

The most heartbreaking was Vic, her friend, her confidant, who was also her bodyguard.

Not a word, a telephone call or even a simple text.

A hot tear trailed down Harlow’s cheek at her aunt’s insight and uncanny accuracy at the miserable turn her life had taken. The only person she’d heard from was Robert, and that was because he wanted to make sure she upheld her end of the movie contract.

Since she’d signed, she hadn’t heard a peep, other than him reminding Harlow about the deadline for her to show up at the set.

“No one has even called to check on me.” Harlow absentmindedly clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “No one but Robert.”

Birdie sprang from her chair and knelt next to her niece. She grasped her hand, gently prying her fingers apart. “Remember when we talked about the silver lining, how your accident brought us back together?”

Harlow nodded.

“Think of this as a part of that silver lining. You find out fast who your real friends are when something like this happens. Maybe you need new friends.”

“Apparently so.” Harlow sniffled, swiping at her damp cheeks. “I guess all I am is a paycheck. All they care about is money.”

“Unless…” Her aunt slowly stood. “Do you think it’s possible Robert is keeping the others from contacting you?”

“On purpose?” Harlow blinked rapidly. “You think he told them not to call or text me?”

“It’s possible.”

“Why would he do such a thing?”

“To isolate you. I’ve never met the man, but based on what I’m learning, he’s accustomed to running the show, controlling every aspect of your life.”

“He is,” Harlow agreed. “But it goes with the territory of him being my manager.”

“Reading between the lines, if he can isolate you, keep you from the people you care about and who care about you, he can control the current situation—your accident—to direct it in the way he sees fit.”

Her mind whirled. Was Aunt Birdie right? Was Robert telling everyone to leave her alone, using the excuse she needed to rest and heal?

“Perhaps you should be the one to reach out,” she suggested.

Harlow snatched her phone off the table and scrolled through her contact list. She clicked on Vic’s cell phone number and hit the call button.

It went directly to voicemail. “Hey, Vic. It’s Harlow.

I…uh…have settled in at my dad’s place. I’m not sure if you tried reaching me. Anyway, give me a call.”

Birdie waited until she finished. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Maybe her aunt was right and the line of communication had broken down. Harlow checked to make sure her cell phone’s volume was turned up before sliding it into her pocket. “Thanks, Aunt Birdie. I feel better already.”

“You’re welcome.” Birdie stepped off the porch and spun in a slow circle. “It’s a gorgeous day. I need to rent a PO box down at the post office. Why don’t you tag along with me?”

Harlow wrinkled her nose, warily eyeing her scooter. “I’m still a newbie at navigating this contraption.”

“Practice makes perfect. I’ll clear a path for you.” Birdie went inside to let David know they were running into town. She popped back out, her sling bag draped over her shoulder, and handed Harlow a bottle of water.

“Thanks. Are you sure you want to hoof it? We can always call for a horse and buggy taxi.”

“It isn’t far. Besides, the fresh air will do us both good.” Reaching the front of the property, her aunt held the gate while Harlow “scooter’d” through.

They meandered at a leisurely pace, all the while Aunt Birdie entertained her niece with stories about her travel adventures and most recently living on board a cruise ship.

“It sounds fascinating,” Harlow said. “Visiting all those exotic locations yet only having to unpack once. I bet you met a lot of interesting people.”

“A boatload, literally. But enough about me. I’m sure you’ve met quite a few people in your travels, living the high life,” her aunt teased.

“Not really.” When Harlow first got into the film and acting business, she was geeked at the thought of what she believed would be an amazing adventure.

Traveling around the world, learning about other countries, other cultures.

Granted, she had met oodles of interesting characters but under a controlled environment orchestrated by her handlers.

In many ways, she felt she’d lost touch with the real world. And now her aunt had driven home the point Robert oversaw almost every aspect of his wife’s life. It made sense. In a nutshell, Harlow lived in a bubble.

“To be honest, there are only a few people I trust,” Harlow confessed. “My publicist, my makeup artist, Selma our housekeeper, Vic, and Robert.”

“I find this incredibly sad.”

“I guess I’ve been so busy working and promoting my brand, Harlow Wynn, I forgot how to live.”

“We’re changing all of that,” Birdie vowed. “I’m so glad I came here. You need a dose of reality, and I’m going to help make sure you get it.”

A slow smile spread across Harlow’s face. She had no doubt her aunt was going to be exactly what the doctor ordered. “I can’t wait for a big dose of Aunt Birdie.”

“Both you and your dad. He needs a dose of Birdie too.”

“I don’t disagree.” Harlow changed the subject. “Why don’t you stay in one of the empty cottages instead of going to all the trouble and expense of buying an RV?”

“I have my reasons. The first one is because I purchased a plot of land on the other side of the island. I plan to build a small cottage to live in during the summer months, when I wrap up the rest of my travel adventures.”

“Live here?” Harlow clapped her hands. “I think it’s a wonderful idea. Have you told Dad?”

“Not yet. I figured it would be best to share my plans in small increments. I don’t want to give him a heart attack.

Anyway, I figured I could work on lining up a contractor.

It’s too late to start this fall, but maybe I could hit the ground running in the spring.

Besides, one of those cottages is yours. ”

It was true. David had filled one of the empty cottages with Harlow in mind, right down to the curtains. It was as if he’d decorated every square inch to suit her tastes in the hopes one day she would return.

“I won’t be around after I recover.”

“Where will you be?”

It was an excellent question. A relevant question. Yes, she had a career to consider. The upcoming job was what she’d worked so hard for. Other actors would give an arm and a leg for the role she’d snagged. To be honest, it would be heartbreaking if Harlow walked away.

On the other hand, she was beginning to see her life was empty and shallow, perhaps even meaningless on some levels.

“I’m not sure,” Harlow answered honestly. “Fulfilling my contract is what I’m focusing on right now. I’ll reassess to find out where I’m at when I get to that point.” With or without Robert , she silently added.

“We’re here.” Birdie held the post office’s door.

“I think I’ll hang out on the sidewalk. If I remember correctly, there’s not a lot of room to maneuver around inside.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Harlow gave her a thumbs up. “I wouldn’t mind doing a little people watching.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” Her aunt dashed into the post office, leaving Harlow and her scooter parked near the bike rack, giving her a bird's-eye view of the action going on around her.

She lifted her leg, ignoring the sharp, shooting pain running down her spine. Harlow scooched forward. Lifting both arms over her head, she did a long and low stretch, reaching out to touch her toes.

“Harlow?”

She jerked upright. A young girl who looked to be around ten years old hovered nearby, a shy smile on her face.

“Hello.”

“I…uh.” The freckle-faced girl glanced at the woman standing next to her. She nodded. “It’s okay.”

“I was wondering if I could take a picture of you.”

“Take a picture with you.” The woman patted her arm. “This is my daughter, Ava. She’s a huge fan of yours. We heard you were back on the island. Ava has been keeping an eye out for you.”

“I would be honored,” Harlow graciously replied.

Ava cautiously stepped close to Harlow’s scooter. “I’m sorry you got hurt,” she whispered.

“Thank you. I’ll be walking again soon.” Harlow placed a light hand around Ava’s shoulders, both smiling, while her mother snapped a picture with her cell phone.

“I’ve been praying for you every night before I go to bed,” Ava said. “Will you be staying on Mackinac Island for very long?”

“I have a new movie to film, so I’ll be leaving soon to work on location,” Harlow said.

“Good luck.”

“Thank you, Ava.” Harlow gave her a small wave goodbye and watched mother and daughter walk away.

She thought about Vic and glanced at her phone, checking to make sure she hadn’t missed his call. While she waited, she drafted a text and then promptly deleted it. Harlow didn’t want to bother him, especially if he was working for someone else.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She could sense someone watching her. Slowly lifting her head, Harlow’s eyes scanned the sidewalk, first to the left and then to the right, toward the community hall and fire department.

Sidestepping a couple heading in the opposite direction, a familiar figure, a man, strolled toward her, an unreadable look on his face.

Harlow’s heart skipped a beat. She cast a frantic look toward the post office’s front door. Still no sign of Aunt Birdie. She was stuck…stuck on the sidewalk, forced to face one of the few people she had hoped to avoid.