“I’m sorry, but that statement amounts to an egregious breach of trust to anyone who would dare to vote for you. You have to stand for something, Christopher. If you don’t, you’re going to be nothing but another one of the faceless weasels who will do or say anything to remain in power.”
“Which ticket would you have me choose, then? I should go all idealistic, I suppose, and forego winning as a matter of principle?”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” Turning in her chair, she faced him. “I’m not telling you to be one party or another, I’m telling you to have some values. Deep inside, in your soul and in your heart, you have to believe in certain things—espouse certain things. When you know what those are, then you can champion your cause confidently, no matter which ticket it is.”
“Even as a Communist?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Honestly, Harley…”
“I’m just saying you shouldn’t be disingenuous. Are you a Republican?”
“Some parts of me might be.”
“Then you’re a Democrat?”
“On some issues…”
She fought the urge to let out an annoyed sigh. “So run as an Independent. Why is that so difficult?”
“Because I don’t intend to lose.”
“Yuck,” she blurted, rising from her seat. “How can you expect me to stand by and support you when you don’t even know what your principles are? Or when you won’t be honest about them, anyway?”
“Give me a break, Harley. What do you stand for?”
“I don’t know,” she blustered with exasperation. “Truth. Justice. The American way.”
“So you’re Superman?” he asked with a sharp laugh. “Harley Laine, not Lois Lane. You’ve got your first name confused, I believe.”
“Well, at least you believe something,” she retorted, grabbing her water and draining the glass before she turned to step away. “Don’t bother getting up, Kip. I’ll get a cab.”
C hapter Four
Harley couldn’t put her finger on what exactly set her off at dinner, but the minute she reached the lobby of the club to call for a cab, she felt slightly foolish. She hadn’t heard anything over that table that she didn’t already know, but the thought of standing idly by while she pretended to agree with Kip’s political positions hadn’t rested well. To add insult to injury, the fact that the Senator actually suggested she give up her reporting career, when she wasn’t even in a committed relationship with his son…
No, Harley had goals and dreams of her own, and none of them included being a trophy girlfriend for a future representative.
The cab arrived quickly and took her towards home, and Kip didn’t come looking for her. He didn’t call, either. In fact, by the time she was halfway to Wonder Lane, she had glanced at her phone several times in disgust. When there were only a couple miles left, she finally felt it buzzing against her leg, and she picked it up with a smug grin on her face.
“Harley Laine,” she stated haughtily, waiting for Kip’s apology.
“And you said you wouldn’t answer the phone.”
Not the voice she expected.
“Denton. I told you I was busy this evening.”
“And yet you answered the phone. Where is the heir to the political dynasty?”
If Kip did run for office, he would be the third generation to do so. Harley didn’t relish the reminder.
Pausing to ponder her response, she squinted her eyes. “I cut him loose…for the evening, anyway. He was boring me to tears.”
“Come out with me, Harley. I’ll pick you up. Tell me where you live, and I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“I don’t live in the city, Denton.”
“Then I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Thirty at the most.”
Laughing, she shook her head. “Good night, Denton.”
“I won’t stop asking. Good night, Harley.”
Pushing the end button on her phone, she wondered why she had been hesitant. Just a couple months before, she would have welcomed a phone call from Denton. Coming off the heels of the evening at the club, though, the thought wasn’t appealing.
The cab pulled into her driveway at the end of Wonder Lane, and she almost handed him a few bills as she slid out of the car, but then she thought better of it. Asking him to wait for her, she strolled back up to the front porch in her heels. Her stomach growled in protest before she even reached the house, and she groaned to herself when she realized she’d barely eaten two bites of her salmon at the club.
Every Friday night it was the same—she would go to some ridiculous function with the Stantons, and then when she was returned to her home, she would hesitate only long enough to make sure Kip was safely gone before venturing back out into the night.
She carefully unlocked her front door and stepped inside, closing the door and locking it behind her. The stairway always seemed precarious and creepy in the dark, with only the exposed light bulb hanging overhead. She removed her shoes at the foot of the stairs and held them with her first two fingers on her left hand, sliding her toes into the slippers before she marched upwards. Stopping in the first bedroom, she returned the shoes to their spot along the wall and carefully shrugged out of the skirt, hanging it back where she had hastily grabbed it earlier. She slid off the blazer as well, placing it on a hanger. She momentarily considered continuing to wear the black sequined tank, but decided to discard it also.
Wearing only her underthings, she stepped across the hall into the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Harley Laine-Stanton. She could already see the entire non-future stretched out in front of her like a boring Stepford wife nightmare. Releasing a shudder, she plunged her fingers into her cheap cold cream and began rubbing it onto her face.
As soon as her skin was cosmetics-free, she pulled out her eye makeup remover and began gently erasing any traces of mascara and eyeliner. When she was in full “mask” she could convince herself she was truly a great reporter who deserved the news desk and had great potential in life, but stripped bare, all she saw in the mirror was innocent Harley—a slightly nervous teenager who wanted to make something of her future but felt inadequate and ill-prepared. Staring back into those amber eyes, she simply studied her own face.
“What do you believe, Harley?” she whispered.
Truth, justice, and the American way. You might as well be running for political office yourself.
Taking a deep breath, she bent over and flipped her hair forward, pausing upside down as she wound an elastic band around the base of the makeshift ponytail, twisting it around itself until she had a little topknot that had wisps of hair poking out haphazardly. She wasn’t Harley Laine when she looked that way—she was Harley Elaine, and she knew it.
Giving herself a knowing grin, she slipped back into the closet/bedroom and reached for a pair of ratty boyfriend jeans, pairing them with a simple white T-shirt and a military jacket in olive green. A quick grab of her black Converse, and she was ready.
Normally she drove her own car to town, but she didn’t feel like being alone, so she would spend the night with Annie in the city. She didn’t want the hassle of finding a parking spot near Annie’s building, so taking the cab would be much easier.
Twenty minutes later, the cabbie glanced up in his rear view mirror.
“You sure this is the place?”
“Of course I’m sure. I come here every Friday night.”
Glancing at the man sitting outside on the park bench, gray-streaked beard reaching halfway down his chest, wearing a slightly dirty blue t-shirt with a bald eagle screen print, the cabbie merely shrugged his shoulders.
“Okay, miss.” Harley dutifully handed him the cab fare and exited the door, stepping in front of the bench the cabbie had just been eyeing.
“Harley, that you taking a cab?” the grizzly gentleman wondered. “Where’s that car of yours?”
“It’s safe at home, Duke.”
“You drunk?”
His
bluntness caused Harley to laugh. “No, I’m not. Are you?”
“Life would probably make a heap more sense if I was. But I’m not. Date didn’t feed you enough again?”
“They never do. Why is that?”
“You need to find yourself a real man’s all,” he called to her as she walked toward the front of the building.
“Well, if you happen to see one, send him my way,” was her reply. Grabbing the door handle, she pulled it open and walked across the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant, stepping up to the bar.
“There’s my little friend,” she heard from her left. Turning, she grinned up at the man she visited every Friday night.
“Tiny, what have you got for me tonight? It’s been a ramen noodle week. I think I had yogurt twice. Oh, and two bites of salmon earlier.”
“Miss Harley, you make me sad,” he said, hulking over her with his big frame. Nearly 6’5” and built like a building, he made her feel like a child. “You oughtta come by here more often and let me feed you, girl.”
“It’s tempting, believe me, but I don’t want to be as big as a house.”
He grinned, his white teeth a stark contrast against his dark skin. “You don’t got no worries there, I’d imagine. Don’t worry though…I’ll get you fixed up right quick.” He rubbed a large hand against his shaved-smooth head, and she merely nodded.
One splurge a week she allowed herself, and it was always Tiny’s. He had the best home cooking she had found in all of Louisville—on a shoestring budget, at least. Most meals were under ten dollars, but lately Tiny hadn’t been asking for payment at all. She realized he probably thought she was down on her luck, or practically starving, and she never divulged any information. Tiny and Duke might have been the only two people in town who hadn’t seen her on television enough to recognize her face.
“I’m thinking you look like you need a cheeseburger with a big pile of bacon on top,” Tiny offered, twisting his mouth slightly in a questioning manner.
“Keep talking like that, and I’m liable to fall in love with you,” Harley joked. Tiny chuckled and headed back to the kitchen. Locating a seat directly behind her, she slumped into it and slid down, her knees stretched out in front of her and her head resting against the wooden chair’s back. She hadn’t expected the life she was creating for herself to prove so difficult, but some weeks she felt more like an actress than a reporter. It felt like a true release to just slouch like a goofy kid for five lousy minutes.
“I think we got a bit too much grease on this thing,” Tiny stated when he reemerged carrying a plate holding a delicious-looking cheeseburger in his hand. “You not gonna want this burger, right?”
“Please don’t torment me,” Harley begged, sitting up straighter. “That burger looks about perfect from where I sit.”
“You sure? I can have him make another one.” He didn’t wait for her to answer, but simply placed it in front of her as he settled into the other chair at her table. “Salmon, huh? When you gonna bring one of your dates ‘round this place?”
“Oh, no,” she stated around a mouthful of food, lifting her hand to her lips so she wouldn’t feel quite so self-conscious about talking with her mouth full. “The guy is supposed to take me on a date, right? So far none of them have suggested this place. I tell you what, though—if any one of them ever did, I might marry him on the spot.”
“You shouldna told me that. What if I go find all the young men I know and tell them to ask you to dinner at old Tiny’s?”
“I’d be having a lot of really good meals then, I suppose. You know a lot of young men, do you?”
“I’m sure I’d know a lot more if they knew you was in here.” An easy smile spread across his cheeks as he wrinkled his nose a bit. “Most young men I know wouldn’t let you be alone at eleven o’clock on a Friday night, though. Seems like a waste.”
“One night is just like any other, right?” She paused as she thought about the fact that she sounded a little cynical. “Anyway, maybe I like being alone. No guy would sit here and watch me eat this slab of beef with a straight face.”
“They’d have to tell you that you got mustard on your cheek.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Cause you do, hon,” he stated with a laugh. “You got mustard on your cheek.”
“Oh,” she muttered, grabbing her napkin and swiping at her face. “Thanks.”
“You want anything else, or can we close up the kitchen?”
“I’m sorry, Tiny,” she said with an apologetic sigh. “You must think I’m incredibly selfish, always popping in here when you’re about to close up.”
“Are you kiddin’?” He grinned as he stood, reaching one large hand over to pat her on the shoulder. “I’d have closed up an hour ago if it weren’t for waiting for your pretty self. You’re my favorite customer, my little friend.”
“You just made my night.” Tears inadvertently filled her eyes, and she blinked to fight them back. “Now why would I need to find some date when I can come here and have you butter me up like that?”
“Why indeed?” he wondered with a smirk. “Milk or dark?”
“Surprise me,” she said with a grin. Reaching behind the counter, he pulled out a purple-wrapped bar of dark chocolate. “Thank you, Tiny. You know I love you. Will you let me pay you this time?”
“You know your money’s no good here, Miss Harley. Just take care of yourself and keep visiting me on Friday nights, and we’ll call it even.”
“I can do that.” Accepting the candy from his palm, she gave him a winning smile before walking back to the front door. “Next Friday?” she asked as she turned to glance at him. He merely waved and smiled.
Stepping back out into the night, Harley walked to the bench beside the sidewalk and parked herself next to Duke, not saying a word. Without bothering to look at him, she reached her right hand toward him and offered the candy bar, just like she did every Friday night. And, just like every other Friday night, Duke took it from her and broke it in half, passing one section back across the bench.
“How you managing to get home?” Duke wanted to know, popping a piece of the chocolate into his mouth.
“I was kind of hoping you might drive me home,” she slyly stated, turning her head slightly to the left so he wouldn’t see her smile.
“Now I would, if I could remember where I left my bike.” She laughed, and he chuckled a bit in return.
“Because you’re a ‘Harley man,’ I know. That never ceases to be funny no matter how many times you tell me.”
“The dripping sarcasm would tell me otherwise.”
Allowing a slight laugh to slip out, she really studied her companion.
“What can I do for you, Duke? Is there something I can do for you?” Continuing to peer at his face, she stared at his eyes—steel gray and gazing into the distance.
“You’re good people,” he finally answered. “I can tell good people. I don’t need anything. I got the clothes on my back and the kindness of friends, and the good Lord saw fit to keep the air pumping into my lungs today.”
“All about perspective,” she acknowledged.
“That it is. That it is.” Turning to appraise his seatmate, Duke reached up to scratch his cheek under his beard. “You never did tell me how you’re getting home.”
“Going to call a cab.” At that verbal reminder, she pulled her phone out of her pocket. The screen was black, and when she hit the button to try to power it back up, nothing happened.
“Problem?” Duke wanted to know.
“Dead phone.” She laughed sardonically at her misfortune. “Figures.”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Duke added cryptically.
Mysterious. Guess I’ll find out how safe the streets of Louisville are at night, because it’s several blocks to Annie’s from this point.
A humming noise broke into Harley’s thoughts, and a hand shot down between her shoulder and Duke’s, offering a familiar smelling delight wrapped ins
ide aluminum foil.
“Here you go, brother,” the voice said, handing Duke the burger.
“Thank you,” he replied, brightening a bit. “Harley, have you met my friend, Ryan? You need a traveling companion, and Ryan is most likely available.”
Shaking her head, Harley let out a sigh. “Being pawned off on strangers as a hopeless case is my favorite type of introduction,” she began, turning slightly.
“You’re in luck, because I have a soft spot for hopeless cases.” The new individual reached his hand out toward her, and she twisted enough to offer him her hand in return. “Ryan Temple.” The firm handshake was the first thing she noticed, right before her eyes lifted casually up his arm until they rested on the edge of a rather large-looking tattoo near his shoulder, the bottom of which was peeking out under the sleeve of his black T-shirt.
“Harley Laine,” she stated cautiously. Lifting her eyes a few more inches revealed a thin line of facial hair under his bottom lip in a dark-chocolate shade, but an otherwise clean-shaven face accentuated by friendly dark blue eyes.
“So you’re Tiny’s reporter friend that he dotes on every Friday night,” Ryan assessed with a laugh, removing his hand from hers. “Nice to meet you.”
The verbal acknowledgement that Tiny definitely knew exactly who she was greeted Harley as a bit of a shock. She continued to gaze curiously at the man in front of her, noting the dark hair that rested near his shoulders underneath a gray stocking cap.
“So, what’s this about needing to travel?” He tried to avoid a smile as he asked the question. She wasn’t sure how she realized he was avoiding said smile, but she definitely realized it, and it made her feel somewhat defensive.
“My friend Harley needs a ride home,” Duke spoke up, eliminating her need to say anything.
“That’s all?” Ryan asked breezily. “You want to come inside for a minute, I’ll get you taken care of.”
Crowned (Girls of Wonder Lane Book 2) Page 4
