Page 68 of Wilde Secrets

“Oh yeah,” Cassie groaned. “You know I’m a veterinarian, right?”

Harper nodded.

“Well, there’s this guy from Midnight Cove, the next town over, who visits the veteran’s rehab clinic. He trains therapy dogs and brings them in as part of their training.” Cassie went on to tell Harper an entertaining story that involved this man, a case of mistaken identity, and a rather embarrassing incident for all parties involving a terrified squirrel.

“The squirrel was fine, but I wish I could avoid him. I have to see him every time I go over there to do health checks on the dogs.” Cassie groaned and screwed up her face. “Just my luck.”

Harper smiled and patted Cassie’s hand where it lay on the couch next to her. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that.”

“I haven’t told you the worst bit.” Cassie’s face turned red. “He’s really hot. Like smoldering hot. I can’t get the image of him naked out of my mind.”

Harper tried not to laugh but failed. In the scheme of things, working with your crush didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world.

She immediately thought of Logan and bit her lip. What would it be like to see him every day? She shook her head. No, she was not going to entertain that particular thought.

She was going to finish this album and then she would be leaving to go back to her life. That’s what she wanted.

But was it?

Of course it was what she wanted. She wanted Isla to sell albums, to hit the charts. She wanted to hear her songs on the radio.

Even if she didn’t get the credit for writing them.

“Sorry?” She realized Cassie had been talking.

“I want to make it up to you. A few of us girls were going to spend the afternoon getting our nails done, would you like to come?”

Harper looked down at the ragged fingernails that she’d managed to bite down to the quick the last few days, and then at the notebook next to her. She wasn’t getting any work done anyway.

“Alright.”

Cassie squealed and clapped her hands, her enthusiasm contagious.

An hour later, Harper was sitting in the most chaotically decorated beauty salon she’d ever seen, getting her nails examined by a talkative woman in her 60s with pink hair.

“So, love. We have a bit of work to do here, don’t we? Color?”

Harper jerked, dragging her attention back to the nail technician. “Sorry. Um, pink?”

The technician not only ran the salon, but also taught belly dancing classes one night a week with Mrs. Trombley. That information, combined with the decor of the salon, had her head spinning.

The salon’s decor looked like a tiki bar had mated with the set of a bad scifi movie. The colors were bright and there were mirrors everywhere. And pink. Lots of pink.

Harper didn’t know what to think. So she didn’t. She just went with it.

“I knew I’d like you. Pink is my favorite color.”

Harper took the shade card handed to her and chose a shade at random. “That one?”

“Oh, great choice, love. Great choice.”

Without really understanding how it happened, later that afternoon, Harper found herself sitting at a table at Wilde Brews’n’Blues with Cassie. She’d been introduced to so many people she struggled to remember all their names. There was a beautiful brunette in a pair of leopard print heels that had introduced herself as Charlotte, but Cassie and everyone else called her Charlie, and Amy—Cassie and Logan’s mom—but the rest of the table she was struggling to keep tabs on.

The bar was actually a brewery with a bar and restaurant attached. It looked over the water, the ever-present sound of lapping waves a constant backdrop. Cassie had claimed a large table on the outdoor deck. There were lights hanging in strings across the area, crisscrossed with colorful bunting, giving the place a relaxed holiday feel.

Harper sat back in her chair, not paying much attention to the conversation that had moved on from polite small talk to more detailed discussions about people she didn’t know. She looked out over the water, watching as a catamaran skipped over the rippled surface, heading toward the marina.

On the rocky shore, a seabird spread its wings to dry in the sun. It was beautiful here. Under other circumstances, she would have loved to have come here for a holiday. But work was work, and she needed to get this album written sooner rather than later.

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