Page 17 of Wynns of Change (Wynn Harbor Inn #3)
“Jillian quit?” Harlow stared at her housekeeper in disbelief.
“I was trying not to eavesdrop, but they were arguing very loudly,” Selma said. “It was Thursday. Jillian came here. I could tell something was wrong. Mr. Barbetz has been in a bad mood since he returned from Vancouver.”
“Because Jillian had a small part in the movie that I starred in. During filming she was asked to leave.”
Selma’s eyes grew round as saucers. “Jillian is an actress? I had no idea.”
“Robert pulled a few strings and landed her a minor part. She flubbed up, got escorted off the set and was replaced by someone else.”
“I bet she wasn’t happy.”
“Sounds like neither one of them were,” Aunt Birdie muttered. “So Jillian came here, she and Robert argued, and then she quit?”
“Not quite,” Selma said. “You are going to think I am a busybody.”
“No. Please. This is important because Robert’s version is that he fired Jillian.”
“Jillian quit and Robert got mad,” Selma said. “He was breaking stuff, swearing, throwing one of his tantrums. He kept saying someone’s name, about Jillian regretting she went with Zenwith.”
“Charles Zenwith?” Harlow asked.
Selma shrugged. “I’m not sure. All I remember is the name Zenwith.”
“If it’s the same person, Charles Zenwith is a big name producer in the industry. It appears Jillian is moving up in the world.” Harlow tapped her lower lip. “No wonder he’s begging me to take him back. Robert’s promising young starlet dumped him for a bigger fish.”
“Mr. Barbetz wants to reconcile?”
“He does, and now it all makes perfect sense,” Harlow grimly replied. “I knew getting back together wouldn’t work. This just confirms it.”
“You are better off without him.”
“He’s a trip. Thank you, Selma. I needed to hear this.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Aunt Birdie and I are going to pack up some stuff.”
“I have boxes.” Selma hurried off, returning moments later with a small stack of packing boxes. “Let me know if you need more.”
“This should be fine. We’ll make it work.” Harlow thanked her and began making her way down the hall. “We’ll be in California for a couple of days.”
“The guest bedroom at the end of the hall has fresh linens.” Selma trailed after them, following Harlow and Birdie to the grand staircase. “If you want, I can keep my ear to the ground when Robert is around.”
“I wouldn’t mind being kept in the loop about what he’s up to.”
Selma held a finger to her lips. “I will do it for you, Harlow. Robert is not a good person. I’m glad you have realized it.”
“I am too.”
Aunt Birdie waited until they were upstairs and in Harlow’s bedroom. “Can you believe it?”
“Actually, I can.” Harlow tossed her sling bag on the dresser. “Robert gets dumped and figures his best bet is to salvage his cash cow marriage, aka me.”
“You’re not a cash cow, but you are the money-maker.”
“He won’t be in any hurry to cancel our contract.” Harlow sucked in a breath. “Something tells me I’m going to be stuck with him until the bitter end.”
Aunt Birdie glanced over her shoulder. “I like Selma. She seems like a good person. She has Robert’s number.”
“I guess everyone had his number except for me,” Harlow said. “I’m so disgusted with him right now. It’s a good thing he’s not here. I would be tempted to give him a piece of my mind.”
“As much as he deserves it, you need to get the divorce behind you before you tell him what a lowlife he is.”
“I’ll keep reminding myself it will be over soon.
” Harlow wandered to the window and stared out at her gardens, now full of weeds without her tender loving care.
They had been her favorite part of the Malibu property.
Her aunt had hit the nail on the head. The rest of the place, the house, the furnishings, were fit for a museum. A cold, sterile, lifeless mansion.
Harlow wouldn’t be sad to see the house go. Or the New York apartment, for that matter, although she would miss the condo in Palm Beach. She loved walking along the beach early in the morning, breathing the salty sea air and watching the waves roll in. It was one of her few happy places.
She briefly thought about Lighthouse Lane, how she felt the moment she stepped inside—peace, serenity, a quiet strength and solitude. It was another reason she wanted everything to go smoothly, without any hiccups. Lighthouse Lane was waiting for her. Harlow could feel it in her bones.
But her hopes and dreams were in jeopardy if Robert caught wind of her wanting to purchase a place of her own. He would drag his feet.
“What does this Jillian look like?” Birdie asked. “She must be a real looker.”
“I have pictures of her.” Harlow scrolled through her phone’s photo album until she found one of Jillian, standing in front of Robert’s Maserati, posing with one hand on her hip. She handed the phone to her aunt.
“I have to admit, she’s a very attractive woman. What’s her last name?”
“McElroy. Jillian McElroy.”
Birdie repeated it. “Doesn’t necessarily roll off the tongue, does it?”
“She could easily come up with a stage name,” Harlow said. “I guess Jillian is smarter than I thought. She’s already moving onto greener pastures.”
“Keep your cool. Don’t let Robert get under your skin,” her aunt advised. “It’s a good thing you’re back on your feet. He would come off like a world class jerk if he filed for divorce while you were still in a wheelchair.”
Harlow’s heart skipped a beat. She stared at her aunt. “Aunt Birdie, you’re a genius.”
“I am?”
“You gave me a brilliant plan to convince Robert to abandon his idea for us to salvage our marriage. It might even motivate him to move a little faster.” Harlow shared her idea, laying out exactly how she would make it work.
Aunt Birdie clapped her hands. “It’s a brilliant idea. You’re an amazing actress. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.”