Page 12 of The Sexy Part
She turns the corner out of sight. I stand there for a moment in a daze before I snap out of it and walk back to Happy Endings, my home away from home.
As I walk to my car, it hits me that I didn’t get her number. I don’t even know her last name.
I may never see her again. My gut tightens. It’s for the best. The timing isn’t right. Timing is everything.
I get in my car and peel out of the lot.
* * *
Rowan
I’m blown away by the kindness and generosity of everyone I’ve met in Clover Park so far. I follow the women down a tree-lined street with lovely Victorian homes. The sun’s setting, giving everything a soft glow. This town is magical like something you’d see on a postcard.
Mackenzie and Harper talk animatedly about the engagement party and Shayla’s upcoming wedding. The women look similar and are close in size, but Mackenzie has blue eyes and a sunny disposition while Harper has hazel eyes and a brash, take-no-shit attitude. Maybe I just get that impression because Harper went off on how long it took her brother Owen to get with the Shayla program. Her exact words: “finally got his head out of his ass.”
“I’m sorry,” Harper says to me. “Here we’ve been going on about Shayla and Owen’s wedding after your awful day.”
“No, it’s okay. I get that you’re excited. I’m sure it’ll be very glamourous.”
“Actually, it’s at Ludbury House like your—sorry,” Mackenzie finishes sheepishly. “No more wedding talk. I promise. Anyway, we’re here.”
We stop at a beautifully restored two-story home—white with dark green shutters and a wraparound porch. A porch swing draws my eye. I can just imagine working on the porch, feeling the breeze as I swing. Not that I’m staying here. Just one night, and then I have to face my ex and my living situation. Ugh. It’s not going to be easy to untangle our lives since we live and work together.
“Welcome to Casa Campbell,” Mackenzie says grandly as she opens the front door. She flips on light switches by the door.
I follow her in. “Thank you.” The inside is just as lovely. We’re in a front parlor room with a large fireplace, a red velvet sofa, and a TV on a short stand. The hardwood floors look original to the house. Through an archway, there’s a living room done in a light yellow with crown molding. A brown leather sofa, upholstered chairs, and a reading nook in a bay window make the space inviting.
“I feel weird calling it Casa Campbell when Shayla bought the place,” Harper says.
“Yes, but she signed the deed over to us,” Mackenzie says.
“Shayla Adler bought you a house?” I ask.
“She bought it for herself and invited us to be her roommates,” Harper says. “Then she moved in with Owen after they got engaged and signed it over.”
“She used to live here with her assistant, Olivia,” Mackenzie says. “Now it’s just me and Harper rattling around the place, so we’re glad to have your company.”
I smile. “I’m happy you took me in. How do you know Shayla?”
“She lived with my family for the summer,” Harper says. “My mom is Claire Jordan. Have you heard of her? Actor, producer, director. She knew Shayla from work and invited her to stay when Shayla was sixteen and getting in trouble out in LA.”
“Your mom is Claire Jordan?!” She’s a huge star in movies I’ve seen many times. They replay on TV. Now you don’t see her as much.
“I know I don’t look like her,” Harper says. “I got her nose and chin, but the rest is Dad. Those Campbell genes run strong.”
“Our dads are identical twins,” Mackenzie says. “That’s why we look similar, even though we’re cousins.”
“How about you?” Harper asks. “Your family nearby?”
“Dad’s in the city. My brother’s in Atlanta. Mom passed when I was a kid.”
“So sorry,” Mackenzie says.
“Sorry,” Harper says. “I’ll shut up now with the personal questions.”
“You need a good night’s rest,” Mackenzie says to me. “I’m sure everything will seem more manageable in the morning.”
“Wine?” Harper offers.
