Page 47 of Wynns of Change
His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Hmmm. I like the sounds of that.”
Her cheeks turned a tinge of pink. “Don’t get too excited. I can burn toast. The only thing I’m even remotely good at is acting or strolling down a runway.”
“Or selling one of your designer dresses or accessories,” he teased. “I’ve seen your face splashed across a fashion magazine or two.”
Crossing her arms, she tilted her head. “I didn’t know you were into fashionista wear.”
“I’m not, but in case your father hasn’t mentioned it…you’re a celebrity around these parts. It’s been fun keeping tabs on your success.” Caleb sobered. “I’m glad to see you’re back on your feet. So I guess this means you’ll be hightailing it out of here before long.”
“Not necessarily. I have my eye on a property. Lighthouse Lane.”
Caleb perked up. “Lighthouse Lane is a cool place. So you’re coming back to Mackinac Island for good?”
“Maybe. Dad plans to renovate the inn and open it back up. He might need a hand, at least when I’m free.”
“And your husband…he’s okay with moving here?”
“We’re divorcing. It…didn’t work out.”
“You’re right. I remember you mentioning it before. I’m sorry.” Caleb seemed genuinely apologetic. “I didn’t mean to bring up a bad situation.”
“You didn’t…haven’t. Looking back, I should’ve realized we were polar opposites. Marrying Robert was a mistake and one I won’t make again.” Harlow pointedly changed the subject. “I should get going. I’ve taken enough of your time. Eryn texted a few minutes ago. She’s waiting for me at the house.”
“Tell Eryn I said hello.”
“I will.”
Caleb escorted Harlow to the door. “Good luck with Lighthouse Lane. So if you can’t cook, maybe we could go out to dinner and catch up,” he hinted.
Their eyes met, and Harlow’s heart skipped a beat. It was almost as if she was transported back in time. Easy conversations. How Caleb made her feel.
“Yes. I-I would like that.”
His soft smile faded. Caleb stared over her shoulder. She didn’t need to look to know someone was standing behind her.
Harlow turned to find a woman close to her age strolling along the sidewalk. She was pretty in an exotic sort of way, withjet black hair, long and silky. Her skin was creamy white with high cheekbones and perfectly arched eyebrows above piercing blue eyes. Harlow’s first thought was she looked like a porcelain doll.
“Cheyenne.” Caleb eased past Harlow.
“Hey, Cale. I stopped by the station and was told you were home eating lunch.” The woman’s eyes flicked from one to the other and then promptly traveled from the top of Harlow’s head to the tips of her toes. Assessing. Judging. Scrutinizing.
Harlow knew the look well. She’d witnessed it plenty of times. Snobbish, snooty wives of the producers and directors, movers and shakers as well as colleagues giving her the once-over.
What Cheyenne saw was a woman dressed for travel…comfy stretch pants, a lightweight top, wearing sneakers with her long blond locks pulled back in a ponytail…and not a drop of makeup.
“I’m working on a small project. Have you met Harlow Wynn?” Caleb introduced them.
Harlow extended her hand.
The woman reluctantly shook it. “I thought you were on location somewhere out of the country.”
“I’ve wrapped up filming and am home for a while now.”
Cheyenne’s eyes narrowed. “Home? I heard you were staying at Wynn Harbor Inn.”
“My father’s place. I grew up here and have always considered Mackinac Island home.”
“But you’re leaving soon,” she insisted.
