She clicked off the tv and was about to head to the bathroom when her phone rang. Her heart raced.
Her heart slowed down again when she saw that the caller was her mom, Lora.
In that split second, she scolded herself. How would Dash even have your phone number? How would he have gotten it? And why would you feel excited to talk to him after the things he said and did to you today? "Uh, hello?" Lora asked.
Harper realized she had answered the phone but had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't even said hello to her mother.
"Hi, Mama."
"Whoa. Who pooped on your protest march, sunshine?"
"Huh? I mean. Nothing. I mean, nobody. Argh, forget it. What's up?"
Lora said, "Hmmm. Something is off with you."
"Weird first day of work," she said, which was not a lie.
"Sure, sure. But something is bothering you. I can tell."
"Dash Fitzgerald sort of…kissed me."
At first, there was only silence on the other end."Mom?"
"I'm going to need a minute to process this information."
Harper yawned dramatically. "OK, you process. I'm going to bed."
When she finally got off the phone, she felt as if she had dodged listening to yet another lecture about the history between the Ross and the Fitzgerald families. Harper had no time for it at the moment. She had too much on her mind, and she'd rather not think about those underground tunnels where Horace Ross and Jack Fitzgerald had distributed their bourbon whiskey throughout Newcastle with the aid of any number of criminals. The sooner those tunnels got closed up, the better.
After a long bath, Harper curled up with a biography she'd borrowed from the library but was unable to concentrate. And it wasn't just because of her mother's disbelief about Harper letting Dash kiss her.
Giving up on her book, Harper went to the bathroom mirror and applied her homemade mask.
You kissed him back, and you liked it.
Harper gazed at herself in the mirror and noticed the smile that grew bigger and bigger as she thought about those stolen moments with Dash.
You don't give a shit about this feud, but you do give a shit about Dash. That has always been true.
The feud had always loomed like a specter around any success of Horace Ross Whiskey. The generations-old dispute was getting ridiculous now. Sooner or later, the two families were going to have to get over it, and maybe whatever was happening between her and Dash was the key.
Don't get ahead of yourself, Harper, she thought as she slipped into bed. This isn't a fairy tale. Grudges, like curses, don't just disappear with a kiss.
Harper was trapped in a dark, tight space. She felt around her but could not identify where she was.
Her heart raced. The more she tried to feel the floor, the walls, or anything, she felt the space closing in on her as if she were in some kind of giant trash compactor. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. The only sound she heard was the panicked silent scream from her dry throat.
In full panic mode, she willed someone to turn on a light… Her eyes opened, and she lay in her bed. Safe and sound.
Harper had gotten tangled in her blankets. Catching her breath, she calmed herself down, then straightened her blankets. "I must be losing my marbles."
It had been years since she'd had a nightmare like that. She didn't believe much in dream interpretation the way her mom Desiree did, but Harper planned on asking about it the next time she saw her.
As calm as she felt after realizing the claustrophobia dream was just a dream, she still could not sleep. But it was too late at night—or too early—to call anyone to talk it over.
After a few more tosses and turns, the chirping of her phone startled her.
"Who in the world, what time even is it…"
When she saw who was texting, her entire body felt comfortable in the bed once again. How strange, she thought.
"No worries if you're asleep. But in case you're up, I'm here. If you want to talk about stuff."
Harper sat straight up in bed and called him back.
When he answered, he sounded as if he was struggling physically. "Ungh…hi. You're awake."
"Bad dreams. What are you doing?"
"Urgh…climbing up to you so you don't have to get up and let me in."
Um…what?
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard, and I've heard lots of dumb shit from you before."
"Can't talk. Climbing. See you in a bit."
Thoroughly awake and confused, she rushed to the window and threw it open. There he was, climbing her iced-over oak tree right outside her bedroom window.
She had no words. Leaving the window open, she sat back down on the bed and wrapped herself up in blankets. And waited.
After what seemed like an ice age, Dash appeared at her window, looking banged up. He climbed inside over the sill and pulled her window shut. The only thing about this that made sense was him removing his wet shoes and setting them next to the radiator.
"Dash. What in the world…"
"Just let me say something first."
She listened and tried to forget about the preposterous idea of climbing up her window. Preposterous and probably an attempt at being romantic somehow? She could never figure him out.
She scooted her feet up and wrapped her arms around her knees under the blankets, and listened.
"I need to tell you why I'm such an asshole, why I keep sending you away from Crow Bar.
"Ralph Girardi and his capo are in jail, but there are people around still working for them. People who are keeping his businesses running. Me and the guys are trying to keep our ears open. We're keeping an eye out for any word on someone called The Recruiter. It's bad. Real bad."
Harper's stomach somersaulted. "Are we talking about a human trafficking operation?
