Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

by Anthony, Jane

  “You know good and well I haven’t had any time to work on it.” They must’ve had sex at least ten times last night. “Not that I’m complaining,” Georgia quickly added, playfully bumping his leg with hers.

  Harlan leaned over and kissed her cheek before giving her thigh a sexy squeeze. “You know I’m an open book for you.” He eyed her, looking like he was about to say something else, but didn’t.

  “Is that so?” She squirmed, and for a heartbeat wished she didn’t have to write his brother’s story. What if she’d met Harlan under different circumstances? What if he wasn’t a celebrity and they’d met like normal people do. If they’d met in town, would they have had a shot at a happily ever after?

  “You know I haven’t sung in public for almost two years.”

  Georgia nodded, surprised he wanted to talk about his career now. “Has it been that long?” she asked softly. She mentioned she needed to include him in Boone’s story. Did Harlan want to get into it now?

  Georgia eyed him, trying to get a read. His deep blue stare came back to her. “Singing didn’t seem worth the hassle.”

  Apparently he did want to talk about it. Maybe he needed to get something off his chest? “Right. Not after the, the ah”—she started to say, the affair with Danny’s wife and corrected herself—“those rumors and the social media—”

  “Shitstorm is what it was.” He let out a heavy sigh. “No one even bothers to check facts anymore. They just blast something on Facebook, and the world takes it as fact.”

  “And then it gets shared—”

  “And before you know it, you’re on the news.” His face tightened and he pressed his lips together. “My manager was worthless. He’d already talked me into that disastrous kiss with Leva. That Vegas photo in the hall?” Harlan pointed with his chin. “That was his idea too. So I fired him. It’s one of the reasons I stopped performing. I couldn’t trust anyone anymore.”

  “But your fans?” She reached out and squeezed his hand.

  “They turned on me. They bought into the affair story. Every photo with a fan, everyone holding their phones up, snapping pictures at my shows—weren’t listening to my music anymore.”

  “I can’t believe that’s true. I’m sure some of them were there to see you. No, I’m sure most of them were.”

  He shook his head, staring into space, and then came back to her, pointedly asking, “Did you know there were people who came to my shows just to see how I was getting along with my drummer?”

  “It must have been difficult for you,” she said, restlessly moving her eggs around her dish, feeling the anxiety building. Must they talk about Danny’s wife, and the woman he left her for, now? She just got out of his bed.

  “It was,” he explained, making quotation marks with his fingers. “‘Danny isn’t talking to him today. They got into a fight backstage right before the show. He left that sweet girl for Danny’s wife.’ Folks were just making shit up out of nothing, and I got sick of it.”

  “I—I don’t know what to think.” She bit her lip and stared at her coffee mug.

  “But you didn’t ask. You haven’t asked about the rumor once since you got here. Not once.”

  “No. And I wasn’t about to bring it up, not unless you wanted to. I wanted to give you a chance to explain, have a voice if you want, tell people your side of the story, but it’s your choice.” Georgia inhaled a deep breath, struggling to stay neutral and professional. She wanted to get up from the table. Talking about this was the last thing she wanted to do, but she reminded herself she came to the ranch for Boone’s story and kept her focus on the music. “There’s a lot more to you than your drummer, or his wife for that matter.”

  “I had a stalker.”

  “What the hell? What did she do?” Even though she didn’t have any underwear on under Harlan’s T-shirt and still smelled like him, Georgia needed to snap into work mode and get Harlan’s side of the story correct. She scanned the kitchen counters for a pen, a pencil, paper, anything.

  “She broke in. Stole my phone, had my contacts, started making calls. The whole thing was bullshit. And the woman I supposedly left for Trisha—Danny’s wife—” he clarified, “is my cousin. She was going through a divorce, so I let her stay here for a while to get her mind off the bastard.”

  Georgia’s heart flipped over with relief. Her instincts had been right about him. She spotted a notepad and pen by the fridge and pointed. “Do you mind if I just grab that pad over there?” She started for the counter.

  “Go for it.” Harlan turned, watching as she grabbed it and came back to the table.”

  “Why didn’t you tell everyone she was your cousin?”

  “Because it was none of anyone’s damn business.”

  “But you could’ve shut the story down. Sorry,” she said, sliding back into her chair. “I just don’t want to forget any of this.” She flipped a page on the notepad. “Why keep it secret? You could’ve mentioned you had a stalker. So many celebrities have them. You would’ve quashed the rumor immediately.”

  “Because then her name would be in the paper, and her family asked me to keep it private. She’d never been in trouble before, and was usually fine, but went off her meds. Her folks took her back home and have been watching her. I didn’t press charges and didn’t feel the need to explain my actions.”

  “I’m shocked Danny didn’t say something to defend you, or his wife for that matter. The story made her look bad too.”

  “To be honest, we thought the story would blow over because it was so ridiculous, but I asked them not to say anything. After our tour Danny and Trisha took off for France to visit her parents, so the press didn’t hound them as much.”

  “Well, people need to know you were being honorable by protecting the reputation of someone who was sick. Can I add this to Boone’s story?” Her heart raced as she looked down at her notes, then shook her head. “This is a story on its own, and I won’t tell a soul about this conversation if you don’t want me to—but really, I think you should.”

  “Go ahead.” He shrugged, eyeing her over his coffee cup, with a slight grin. “Enough time has passed.”

  “And I can write it without ever mentioning your stalker’s name. I won’t even ask for it.”

  He nodded. “It feels good to get it off my chest.” He laughed. “Can you imagine me messing with Trisha? At the very least Danny would’ve left the band, and would more likely have tried to kill me. He and Trisha have been so good about it. Of course they’re still together, and tell anyone who’ll listen there wasn’t a shred of truth to the story, but no one cares. I don’t have time for that shit. Maybe you can help me turn it around.”

  18

  As the words slipped out Harlan’s mouth and he saw Georgia scribble down every word, he remembered she was only at the ranch for professional reasons, and wouldn’t have agreed to stay there if it wasn’t for Boone.

  Once she had her story—both stories now—she’d go back to New York. The only way he’d see Georgia Monroe was if he read one of her articles. He scratched at his throat, dreading the thought.

  “So, after the truth is revealed, are you going to stay out of the business? What about the songs you’re working on? Are you going to release them? You’re too talented to just let them rot in a file somewhere.”

  “They’re going to go on a new album I was going to release anyway. I hadn’t planned on touring since I’m focused on Boone, so I’m hiring a company to promote my work. My manager used to take care of all that.” Harlan stroked her velvet arm, knowing he had no right to want more, but couldn’t keep his hands off her. Was she just going to vanish now he’d finally found her? “I’d love it if you could come back to interview me after I release my new album.”

  Her eyes flashed an expression he couldn’t read. “Consider it an open invitation,” he clarified, holding her hand, waiting for Georgia to smile.

  “Come back? But I haven’t even left yet.”

  She stared blankly at him
.

  The knock on the front door interrupted whatever Georgia was just about to say. Who was it now? It couldn’t be Colt, because he’d just barge right in.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Don’t go anywhere.” He said getting to his feet. Coming around her from behind, he leaned down and kissed the sweet spot between Georgia’s neck and shoulders, one of his favorite places on earth. Well that, and— “Be right back. It’s probably the new headphones I ordered.”

  When Harlan opened the door, he found his neighbor Maxine Mahoney staring up at him with puffy, bloodshot eyes.

  With her brown hair matted around her face, it looked like she’d been crying for a while. “Have you seen him?”

  “Colt found him in one of our pastures yesterday.” He didn’t want to worry her more by mentioning what Colt said about him being confused. Come to think of it, Harlan had a few run-ins of his own with Jeb recently where he seemed a little off. “Come in.” He waved her inside. “We’re in the kitchen,” he explained, showing her the way, afraid she might break down in tears.

  “Oh, man. I’m sorry I’m interrupting you.” Maxine shrugged, holding her face in her hands. “I should go,” she said through her fingers.

  “No, no,” Georgia stood up, and shot him a questioning look. She tugged at her T-shirt, trying to pull it down. “I’m the one who should leave.”

  “Both of you sit.”

  Georgia plunked back in her chair and Maxine took the one beside her. “Georgia, this is my neighbor Jeb’s granddaughter, Maxine.” Harlan made the introductions, keeping an eye on Maxine settling at the table. She never came by without her granddad. “Maxine, Georgia.”

  Georgia smiled politely.

  “Call me Max,” Maxine sniffed, wiping her tears. “Sorry.” She gave them both a sheepish shrug.

  “Not a problem.” Harlan snatched one of the mugs off the counter and set it in front of Maxine. “Help yourself,” he urged, pointing out the carafe, cream and sugar. He sat beside Georgia. “What’s going on?”

  “We had plans for lunch. Grandpa and I always do. Have plans, I mean, for lunch once a week.” She swallowed. “He’s not home.” She eyed Harlan, begging for answers he didn’t have and rotated to Georgia. “His truck is right there in the driveaway. Where the hell is he?”

  “I’m sure he’s fine.” Georgia tossed him a quizzical look before reaching out and patting Max’s hand.

  “Buster’s there. His lab,” Max added nervously. “Which is weird, because he usually takes Buster with him. I talked to him last night. I know I probably shouldn’t worry, but… wherever he is, he has his gun with him. Which isn’t unusual, but…I just have this weird feeling and didn’t know who else to come to.” She gave Georgia a once-over. “Did I come at a bad time?”

  “Nope.” She patted Max’s hand again. “Hey, I get it. If I had a friend like Harlan, I’d do the same thing.”

  “Let’s take a ride.” Harlan rose from the table and grabbed his keys off the counter.

  “Thank you, thank you,” Maxine’s thanks were all breath as she jumped out of her chair.

  “Can you use another set of eyes?” Georgia asked, following Max.

  He locked eyes with Georgia and the world stopped for a second. “I wouldn’t think of leaving without you.” He didn’t need old Jeb coming around snooping for her with his gun. Besides, she belonged with him.

  “Let me get some pants on.” Georgia hustled out of the kitchen. “It won’t take but a sec.”

  He beamed in approval, taking in the sight of her round bottom until it disappeared around the corner.

  After pulling his rifle off the hook by the front door, he donned his hat, walked Max to his truck, and waited for Georgia, who soon followed.

  Heading down the driveway, Harlan tried putting the pieces together. Jeb was on foot most likely, since he didn’t keep horses anymore, so if he was riding, it meant he stole one.

  Keeping one hand on the wheel, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and hit speed dial. Jack Hamilton picked up on the first ring.

  “Well, look who it is,” Jack answered jovially in his rich baritone voice. “Decide to come out of hiding and grab a drink?”

  “The drink will have to wait, I’m afraid. I’ve got Jeb Mahoney’s granddaughter with me. She’s worried. He’s disappeared.”

  “How long has he been gone?”

  “She was supposed to meet him for lunch, and she talked to him last night. So it depends on when he decided to take off. You busy?”

  Jack owned the property on the other side of Jeb and was the only friend nearby with a helicopter. Harlan had more than enough cash to buy his own, but imagined he wouldn’t use it much.

  “I’ve got time to take a look,” Jack replied, all business.

  No matter what the bickering, Harlan and his neighbors all watched out for each other. They had to. With so much land, it would take forever for proper authorities to assist in an emergency. They were all pretty much on their own.

  “I’ll start at his place and call you if I see anything.” Jack promised before hanging up.

  “Jack’s going to take a look,” he commented, steeling his determination, staring straight ahead.

  “Thanks,” Max replied in a small, frightened voice.

  Harlan slid his hand on Georgia’s thigh, liking the feeling of having her next to him. “Jack’s our neighbor with a helicopter.”

  “Handy.”

  He glanced at her, catching her eyes, smiling for an instant, and then swung a hard right down Jeb’s driveway. “He couldn’t have gotten very far,” he commented, without adding if he didn’t stay out all night after running into Colt.

  Jeb’s ranch-style house looked like it hadn’t been touched since the fifties. Harlan hopped down from the cab and opened the passenger door, helping the women out. “You should wait inside.”

  Maxine dug her feet in, not moving an inch. “I’m going with you.”

  “It’ll be faster without you,” he replied firmly, not about to put either of them in danger. And who knew what they would come upon, or what shape they’d find Jeb in?

  Standing his ground, Harlan didn’t follow up with an explanation. Jeb having a run-in with a bear or mountain lion wasn’t completely out of the question.

  He strode back to the cab, passing the toolbox on the bed and taking mental inventory of the ammunition he kept stowed there.

  Max followed him to the driver’s side door. Hand on hips, she stared him down, silently saying I’m going.

  “C’mon,” Georgia offered, gently nudging Max’s shoulder. “Let me make you some tea.” She glanced at Harlan. “I’m sure your Grandpa has something in there we can make.”

  Max let out a long sigh. “Okay,” she whispered. Her chin started trembling, but thankfully she didn’t start crying again.

  19

  Georgia added some milk to her tea. So, this was what Harlan’s real life was like.

  He was the man neighbors called for help. The good guy out on the range rescuing people. She was surprised he didn’t have a white horse. Or at least a white hat.

  She considered Max, guessing they were around the same age. “Is this the first time this has happened?”

  “My grandpa getting lost?”

  Georgia nodded, lifting the steaming cup for a sip.

  “Yeah, he’s usually right out there.” Max pointed out the window next to them toward several rows of plants. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. He hasn’t been the same since grandma died.” She shrugged, seeming to wilt in the process. “And I’m the only one he has left to look after him.”

  The chop, chop, chop, chop, whoomphing sound of a helicopter flying low stole their attention. The noise got so loud it felt like the house was shaking.

  Georgia locked eyes with Max, and they looked out the window at the same time.

  “Should we do anything?” Max yelled above the noise.

  “Let’s just stay put.” Georgia took another sip of
her tea, trying to appear unworried for Max’s sake, until finally the sound began to fade. She glanced out the window again. “I’m sure they’ll find him.”

  “Harlan was the first person I thought of to help me. Boone and Colt, too. The Beckett brothers are sort of the sheriffs around here.” Max turned her weary eyes to the window. “Let’s sit in the living room This is creeping me out.” Max grabbed her teacup and moved into a small beige room with chipped paint adjacent to the kitchen.

  Georgia followed her and took a seat across from her on the blue couch.

  “Have you known Harlan for long?”

  “I just met him,” Georgia replied, wanting to add that it felt like she’d known him forever. “Of course everyone knows of him.”

  “Right,” Max laughed uncomfortably.

  “I’m doing a story on his brother and have found out Boone and Harlan are a package deal.” Georgia studied Max, and then took another sip.

  “Trying to get to the bottom of his wife-stealing ways, are we?”

  “What did you just say?” Georgia set down her cup.

  “I said, everybody knows that rumor about him fucking around behind his friend’s back is really true. Not that it matters to me. I mean, he’s still the first guy I called. No judgement, right? To each his own. I assume you’re trying to dig up some dirt on him.”

  “No,” Georgia seethed, swallowing hard, tamping down the urge to slap her, something she’d never done to anyone in her life. Max had a hell of a nerve talking about Harlan that way when he’d dropped everything to go out there to find her grandpa.

  She lifted her chin, squarely meeting Max’s eyes. “You’ve got the story all wrong, Max. You might want to get your facts straight before you go talking out your stupid ass about something you know nothing about.”

  “Whoa,” Max shot up her hand. “Didn’t mean to hit a nerve.” She leaned back on the couch. “Sorry, Mama Bear.”