Page 10 of Wynns of Change (Wynn Harbor Inn #3)

As soon as Mort reached the cottage, he trotted ahead, nudging his way through the open gate. Harlow’s father and a man resembling the photo she’d seen online of Brett Easton stood casually chatting on the porch.

Harlow slowed her pace, catching her father’s eye as she drew closer.

“There she is now.” David Wynn beamed proudly, introducing his daughter to Brett.

She politely shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Easton. Dad has only good things to say.”

“Please, call me Brett. Your father is a great guy. I’m sure he’s told you all about our project, renovating Wynn Harbor Inn and turning it back into a premier Mackinac Island vacation destination.”

“He has. I haven’t heard all the details but I know he…we’re hopeful you’ll be able to get the code enforcement fines reduced or, better yet, removed completely.”

“That’s the goal,” Brett replied. “David mentioned you recently wrapped up a movie project in Canada.”

“Vancouver, to be exact. It will be a while before the movie makes it to the big screen, but for the most part, my job is done,” Harlow said.

Brett Easton cast her a sheepish smile. “I’ll confess I’ve been following recent releases. I’m sorry to hear about your accident.”

“I’m lucky to be alive. To be honest, it was a blessing in disguise. It brought me home again.” Harlow clasped her hands. “I’ve skimmed over the contract between you, your sister, and my father. What exactly is your goal?”

“Harlow,” David chided.

“I think it’s a legitimate question. Are you wanting this to be a forever investment or until you get your money back with interest? And I apologize if I’m coming across as rude because it isn’t my intent. I’m merely trying to figure out the angle.”

“The angle is to help rebuild this iconic property, but on a smaller scale.” Brett cleared his throat.

“My sister and I will front the funds and coordinate the rebuilding. The final step is to get it up and running. When it’s once again a viable business, we’ll enter phase two of the agreement.

Your father has an agreed-upon repayment structure with a reasonable rate of return.

When it’s paid back, my sister Morgan and I will sign off, at which time David is free to do whatever he pleases. ”

“But until the money is repaid, you and your sister will be on the deed?”

“Correct,” Brett said. “As a businesswoman, I’m sure you understand we need to protect our investment.”

“The terms are reasonable,” David added. “Brett and Morgan are the perfect business partners. I trust them implicitly.”

“Your father’s attorney, as well as ours, have reviewed the contracts and approved the terms,” Brett added. “The entire arrangement is completely aboveboard.”

Harlow asked him a few more questions and could feel herself start to relax. She didn’t detect any “hemming and hawing” on his part. All answers were straightforward and to the point. Despite not wanting to like the man, Brett Easton was having the opposite effect on her.

“Are you done grilling Brett?” David teased.

“Yes. I’m sorry. It’s just…when Dad initially told me about the agreement, it kind of threw me for a loop.”

“I understand. This was your home. Believe me, I feel very much the same way about Easton Estate and would have similar concerns,” Brett said. “Questioning means you care and are only looking out for David’s best interests.”

“I am and I will. Dad mentioned you two are meeting with code enforcement today.”

“We are.” Brett glanced at his watch. “Which reminds me we should get going.”

“I have an errand to run in town, as well. It was nice to meet you.” Harlow ran inside. By the time she exited the cottage, her father and Brett Easton were already gone.

Harlow wasn’t far behind, her number one goal to track down Caleb Jackson, her former high school sweetheart who was now the island’s fire chief, and ask him for suggestions about how to proceed with a new investigation.

But first, she had a stop to make, a place she’d been looking forward to from the moment she was on her feet and ready to hit the ground running, or in her case, walking quickly.

Harlow still wasn’t back to one hundred percent, but she was getting closer every day. She needed a new mode of transportation to get around the island. Walking was excellent exercise. Having her friend Marty chauffeur her was convenient, but she also needed her own set of wheels.

Having done some preliminary research, Harlow made a beeline for the Island Bike Shop, the top-rated store for island bikes. Her plan was to purchase something sporty and fun but also dependable, a bicycle she could use during all seasons.

She stepped inside and was promptly greeted by a clerk who looked to be in his late teens or early twenties. She knew the exact moment he realized who she was. His jaw dropped, and he made a choking sound, as if someone had sucked the air from his lungs.

“I’m hoping you can help me,” Harlow said, ignoring his obvious stare. “I’m looking for a bike, something I can use year round. From what I researched, I believe there’s a certain kind of tire I would need to buy.”

“Fat tire bikes.” He nervously pressed on the bridge of his glasses. “They work best if you’re planning on off-road riding. They don’t work as well on pavement.”

“So I would need a bike for summer pavement riding and a different one for trails or riding in the snow,” Harlow said.

“Correct.” The man, Arlen, according to his nametag, went into a detailed explanation about how a regular bike frame was too small for the fat winter tires. He showed her the spiffy pink pedal bike Harlow had admired on her way in.

She promptly took it for a spin around the block. Harlow returned to the shop and found Arlen waiting for her near the rear entrance. “I’ll take it.”

“What about the winter bike?”

“I think I’ll hold off until the snow flies.” Harlow kicked the stand down and followed him inside to the cash register. She dug through her sling bag, pulled out her credit card, and handed it to him.

Arlen glanced at the front, his face turning a ghostly white. “It is you,” he whispered. “Ms. Wynn.”

Harlow’s expression grew mischievous. She playfully pinched her skin. “Live and in person. I just got back from filming.”

“I-I-I heard,” Arlen stammered. “You’re working on A City of Glass . I read the book when it came out.”

“You’ll have to see the movie when it releases.”

“I-I’m not sure. I’ve found the movies are never as good as the book.” Arlen’s voice trailed off. “I mean, n-not because I don’t want to see you, Ms. Wynn, because I’m sure you’ll do great. Oh, gosh.” He slapped his forehead. “I should shut up.”

“It’s okay.” Harlow patted his hand. “I hope you change your mind, but I understand what you’re saying. By the way, you can call me Harlow.”

He gripped the sides of the counter, and she thought he was going to pass out.

“This is so cool,” he whispered in awe. “You’re even prettier in person. Was it okay for me to say that? Because I don’t want to seem stalker-ish.”

“Thank you for the compliment. I don’t consider it to be stalker-ish.”

Arlen completed the transaction and handed her card and receipt to her. “Do you need a helmet or gloves? I should’ve asked you before I ran your card through.”

“No. At least not yet. I’ll be back if I change my mind.” Harlow tucked the receipt and card in the pocket of her bag before draping it over her shoulder and strolling out to her fancy new set of wheels.

Arlen hovered in the doorway, watching Harlow climb on.

“Now, don’t laugh if I crash.”

“I would never laugh. I…I would save you. I mean. I would help you,” he stuttered.

“Thank you, Arlen. Although I hope it won’t be necessary.” She gave him a friendly wave and took off. The handlebars wobbled for a brief second before Harlow regained control.

Picking up speed, she cruised to the end of the street.

Her initial thought was to head directly to the fire department to track down Caleb, but it was such a beautiful day she opted for taking a leisurely spin around the island.

At the stop sign, she turned right, pedaling in the opposite direction of downtown.

Friday morning meant the weekend tourists hadn’t yet arrived and bike traffic was fairly light. She rounded the bend. The bridge to home…the Mackinac Bridge sat off in the distance and her heart sang.

Harlow’s stress blew away with Lake Huron’s soft breeze. Despite her marriage crumbling, she had finished filming, at least for the most part. Robert had assured her the payment for her work was being processed. The couple had verbally agreed to the terms of their divorce.

An inkling of sadness flitted through Harlow, sad to think her marriage was ending. But Robert had treated her badly. He wanted nothing to do with helping his wife heal other than arranging for someone to care for her.

Vic, her friend and bodyguard, confirmed what Harlow had suspected.

Robert was having an affair with Jillian, his personal assistant, a woman she had never cared for.

Paying for her Malibu townhome was one of the final straws, that and after discovering her husband had hired a cameraman to spy on her.

Robert had given Harlow no choice but to end their marriage. She wasn’t sure how she felt, but any love between them was long gone. Looking back, it had been more of a business arrangement as opposed to a marriage for quite some time.

Robert handled the wheeling and dealing, finding new projects, negotiating the terms. Her role was to promote her work—whether it was modeling or acting—and fulfill the contracts.

The arrangement had worked well until it hadn’t.

Harlow loved acting, loved modeling. It was a dream come true.

But every dream job had a downside. Her career choice was filled with acquaintances, faux friends and questionable colleagues who wouldn’t hesitate to stab her in the back at the drop of a hat.

She didn’t miss the drama or artificial reality of Tinseltown. Harlow was home and thrilled to be there. She thought about her father’s health, feeling somewhat responsible. Surely the added stress of having to care for her affected him.

Stressing out over Wynn Harbor Inn’s renovation project only added more pressure, and Harlow made a mental note to figure out ways to help him.

Before she knew it, she had reached British Landing, Mackinac Island’s halfway point and the ideal spot to take a break.

Harlow pulled off and parked her bike. Checking for traffic, she crossed the street and made her way to the water’s edge. She kicked her shoes off and dipped her toes in the cold, crystal clear water.

Embracing the peace and tranquility, Harlow closed her eyes. No wailing sirens. No blaring horns or loud voices. All she heard was the gentle waves rolling onshore mingled with an occasional tinkle of laughter from a passing bicyclist.

Harlow wandered for several yards before backtracking and returning to her bike.

Despite an occasional twinge, she was thrilled to find her legs weren’t at all bothered by the exertion of pedaling.

She briefly wondered how her father and Brett were doing, praying the enforcement officials would be sympathetic to her father’s plight and eliminate the fines.

Hopping back on, Harlow finished the last leg of her ride, passing by Arch Rock on her way into town. Mission Church, Michigan’s oldest surviving church and local landmark, sat at the bottom of the incline.

It was time to track down Caleb, to find out if he would be willing to help.

Harlow could feel her armpits grow damp.

The thought of meeting with her high school sweetheart, a man who had broken her heart, made her break out in a cold sweat.

Even now, she remembered the day he told her he had joined the military.

Caleb promised to return home, but in the same breath, made her promise not to wait around for him.

She thought about him often…more times than she cared to admit, since their awkward meeting, when she fell into his arms, literally, while trying to avoid him.

Robert had never made her feel the way Caleb had. She chalked it up to young love and sentimental memories.

But deep down, she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone. Despite the years having passed, the sight of her first love still made her heart pitter patter.

Stay cool, she reminded herself. Don’t let Caleb get under your skin. If Harlow had one thing going for her, it was that she knew how to act and hide her true feelings. Right now, she needed to give a performance worthy of an Oscar.