He stopped the car and cut the ignition. Things were different now—hewas different. He wasn’t going to turn tail and leave without talking to Sam. And he would do everything in his power not to let Harris have her again.
Harris opened the door before he could knock.
“Great to sleep in and have a lazy morning, isn’t it?” Harris said, slapping Lukas a little too hard on the back and giving a big stretch and a yawn. “Of course you probably got up early with the little guy, huh?”
“I need to speak to Sam,” Lukas said.
“She’s asleep. I think you’d better leave, Spikonos. I have no idea how long you plan to stick around here, but I want your promise that you’ll leave her be. Because after today, she’ll be mine—for good.”
“What, are you planning to elope?” Lukas asked. “I’m surprised Mom and Pop Buckhorn would approve of that plan.”
Harris patted down his right pants pocket, revealing a square bulge. “I’m going to ask her to marry me at the donor party tonight. In front of all the good citizens of Mirror Lake.” He pulled out a small box and cracked it open.
A giant solitaire sat in the middle of flowing swirls of white gold. Chic and ultramodern, and he’d definitely spent the bucks, but Sam would hate it. She loved tradition. Valued the past. Lukas’s vision for her ring would be completely different. He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at the gaudy thing anymore.
“After today,” Harris continued, “I won’t tolerate any more of your interference. I want you out of town. In fact, I’ve even found a buyer for that shambles of a lakefront property of yours. He’ll offer quadruple the price you paid.”
Lukas snorted. He’d die on that property before he’d sell it. Especially to anyone remotely connected to Harris Buckhorn. The Third.
Harris’s face had turned bully red and his breath was coming fast. Oops, Lukas must have said that out loud.
“She’s mine,” Harris said. “She always has been. And not to be crude, but last night sealed the deal, if you know what I mean. So sure hope you’ve got places to go and people to see, because if you don’t get out of Mirror Lake and stay out, I’ll take your entire career down so fast no one will remember even one of your tweenie pop singles.”
Lukas honestly didn’t give a fuck about the tweenie remark. What got him was theshe’s mine.
“Have a great day,” Harris said, slapping him again too hard on the back.
Slowly, Lukas walked to his car, got in, and drove down the driveway. He stopped at the pharmacy and bought a carton. Mentholated, the worst kind. Booze would have been nice but he didn’t want anyone to see him buying that, or next week all the tabloids would all be saying he was an alcoholic on a binge. He went home and tried to smoke one but his hands were shaking too hard to hold on. He picked up his guitar, but there was no inspiration. He even tried to do some metalwork but he ended up tossing everything—sheets of silver, tools, magnifying glasses—to the ground. Then he ripped off his nicotine patch and threw that on the pile, too.
He ran his hands through his hair. Who could he call? Ben came to mind, but he was at the zoo with the kids, and who else was there? When was there ever someone? Not that people in Mirror Lake weren’t friendly. Just that, like so many other times in his life, he felt completely alone.
“I ordered a shot of Jack, not a cheeseburger,” Lukas said as Scott MacNamara put a plate heaped with a burger and fries in front of him on the bar late that afternoon. By then, he didn’t care who saw him, he just needed a drink. Fortunately, the few other stragglers didn’t seem to notice him or care who he was.
“You’ve already had a few of those,” Scott said. “Now it’s time for food.”
Lukas scowled. “I must look desperate if you’re cutting me off.”
“That and hungry.” Scott leaned his elbows on the bar in front of Lukas. “Can I ask you something? What’s wrong?”
Lukas shrugged. Desperation loosened his tongue. And the shots. “I messed everything up with a woman and she’s gone back to her old boyfriend. I don’t know what she sees in him.”
“This is Mirror Lake, where everyone knows everyone. Are you talking about Sam?”
Lukas shot him a glare. “Harris spent last night with her. Told me to my face.”
Scott snorted. “He’s a smack talker.”
Lukas narrowed down his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I delivered a pizza to Jess’s place last night. On my way home. The last order of the night.”
“I really don’t want to hear about your exploits, Scott.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “She was with Samantha, Lukas,” he said gently. “At midnight. They were both in their PJs. I think our boy Harris might be lying.”
Through his buzzed haze, Lukas eyed the bartender. Scott had backed up a little, had crossed his arms, and was calmly stroking his too-bushy beard, all contemplative philosopher. Looking pleased as a mother duck after her babies’ first dive into the pond.
Crazy, insane hope tore through Lukas. She’d spent the night with Jess, not Harris. She hadn’t picked Harris after all.
He stood and grabbed Scott by the front of his MacNamara’s “Best Damn Bar in Mirror Lake”T-shirt. Few people he’d met in the past couple of years weren’t after him for some benefit of his fame and fortune. Making friends had never come easy, and after the fame thing, he’d grown doubly untrusting.
“I love you, man.” Lukas planted a big kiss on Scott’s cheek, not his lips—he wasn’tthatdrunk.
Scott tried to pull away. “Where are you going? You’re not driving anywhere, are you?”
“A long time ago, I ran away and let things happen that shouldn’t have happened. But I’m not going to run anymore. I’m going to pull out all the stops. I’m going to tell her how I really feel.”
“Just go get the girl,” Scott said, prying Lukas’s fingers off his shirt. “And I don’t care how famous you are—don’t ever kiss me again.”