Chapter 7

CHAPTER

SEVEN

H arry, I need to know you’re okay. Belle typed the text, the image of him toppling backward onto a moving luggage belt making her fingers fly. She didn’t even care if she was overstepping.

I saw this video that concerned me, and I haven’t heard from you. Please call me. Or text me back.

Harry had only called her once since they’d met last month. He definitely preferred texting over calling, Belle knew that.

She paced into her kitchen on this benign Wednesday, her day off. Her coffee still sat on the counter, along with the rest of her breakfast muffin, which she’d made for herself. She’d been eating and slowly sipping her caffeine, enjoying her sleepy day.

Then she’d seen that video of Harry. She’d recognized him instantly, though the caption had his name in it.

He hadn’t texted her back, and Belle’s worry climbed through her throat. She forced herself to sit down and reassess. She wasn’t dating Harry. She wasn’t his momma. He was a grown man, and surely he wasn’t still rotating around and around with the suitcases in Nashville. She’d been meaning to update him on his neighbor for a couple of days now, and she picked up her phone and took a deep breath.

I thought you might like to know that we found Steven Bastian, your neighbor. He’d had enough of winter and gotten in the car and gone south. We found him whole and well and happy and warm in Phoenix.

She smiled thinking of that case, because she always wanted a happy ending for her missing persons cases.

Is it warm in Nashville? At least it hasn’t snowed two feet in the past week, I’m sure. Belle looked up and out her dining room window, the snow piled up on her deck feet and feet deep now, in the middle of February. On days like this, in a moment when she had to bundle up in layer upon layer, she questioned her choice of where she’d bought a house.

But she loved her little red-brick house, with the wide front porch, the big back deck, the acre and a half she had for the horse she hadn’t bought yet, and the dog she might get someday. Right now, all she could care for were cats, and she had three of those.

Her phone chimed, and Belle lunged for it.

Hey, Belle , Harry had said .

She waited, because surely he was typing another message. He had to be.

Thanks for texting. Sorry you had to see that video. I’m okay. My momma and daddy came this weekend, and we hired an assistant.

Belle’s smile started out small, and her fingers started tapping again. That’s a great idea. Now you won’t have to get your own baggage at the airport.

Exactly. His name is Adam, and he’ll do anything I want him to. Grocery shopping, errands, manage my appointments, all of it.

“So like a manager,” she said aloud as she typed it.

Her phone rang, and Harry’s name sat there. Her pulse blipped like it had lost its power for a moment, and then she swiped on the call. “Hey,” she said.

“Ah, it’s good to hear your voice.” Harry wore a smile in his, and on his end of the line, a door closed. “I thought it might be easier to call. Do you have a few minutes?”

“It’s my day off,” she said. “So I’ve got all day.”

“Wow, a day off,” he teased. “I wonder what that’s like.”

“You can have any day off you want,” Belle shot back at him. “You literally set your own hours every day of the week.”

“I guess I can’t argue with you there.” He chuckled in that deep, low voice that made her shiver.

The moment sobered. “You sound good, Harry.”

“I’m a lot better this week than last week,” he admitted. “And Adam is kind of like a manager, and—” He sighed. “It’s embarrassing to need someone to manage your life. ”

“No, it’s not,” she said. “Not when it’s someone like you, Harry.”

“I’m a normal person,” he said, and his tone carried bite now.

Belle hesitated, because Harry Young so wasn’t normal. Well, he probably was, in that he liked French fries and brisket sandwiches, and he played the guitar and wanted to own, in his words, a whole herd of horses.

But he also wasn’t. His lifestyle as a mega country music star was not normal, and he had to know that.

“So I’ve got Uncle Morris managing my music career,” Harry said. “And now Adam will manage my personal affairs.”

“Including your finances?” Belle asked, her voice pitching up. She didn’t want to lecture Harry, but she’d had so many bad experiences. “Do you know Adam? Is he a personal friend?”

“I’m still managing my finances,” he said. “It’s more like Adam will go get money out of an ATM for me.”

“Okay,” she said. “That’s good.”

“I sense a story here,” Harry said.

Belle paused for a moment. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” Harry said. “Adam just got here this morning, and he brought bagels and cream cheese, my favorite energy drink, and we’re planning for the next few weeks.”

“That’s great,” Belle said. “You sound happy about having an assistant.”

“I am.” He sighed. “I just….”

“I know how you feel,” she said. She took a big breath. “I was a tiny cog in the country music business once upon a time, and I had a manager like your Uncle Morris. Sort of. They managed everything, even my money, and I lost…everything.”

Harry didn’t respond instantly, and the silence pouring through the line went on and on. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry, Belle.”

“It’s done,” she said. “I’m okay. I’ve recovered.” She got up and wandered into her living room. Her guitar waited for her in the stand next to her electric piano. She hadn’t touched it for a while. In fact, Belle didn’t know the last time she’d picked up that guitar and played it.

“Have you?” Harry asked quietly.

“Maybe I’m still working on it a little bit,” she said. “But I have a good job I love, and I can pay all my own bills.”

“I see now why you didn’t want to go out with me.”

“No,” Belle said quickly, turning away from her performance guitar. “It’s not—you don’t live here.”

“That’s another reason I’m calling,” he said. “I’ve decided to, uh, I feel like I need to be here to make this album. So I’m not coming back to Coral Canyon until the album is done.”

Belle nodded, the distance between them feeling so big and so small all at the same time. “I get that. You need to be in Nashville.”

“I’ll still come visit, of course,” he said. “In fact, when my cousin gets married, will you come to the wedding with me?”

Belle ducked her head, her long dark hair hanging down as she smiled to herself. “This is the Country Quad wedding?”

“It’s Bryce,” he said with a chuckle. “He’s not in Country Quad.”

“Tell me they won’t perform there.”

“I have no idea what Bryce and Codi are planning for their wedding,” Harry said. “It’s not until May, and maybe we won’t be talking then.”

“We won’t?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “I hope we are, and I’d love to go to the wedding with you.”

“All right,” she said, going with her buzzing feelings and accepting the date. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” he said. “I would too.”

Another bout of silence came between them, and Belle didn’t mind it. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said. “That video was scary.”

“The experience was scary too.”

“Your momma and daddy came?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yep. I feel a lot better now.”

“I’m glad.”

“So Steven escaped to Arizona?” The conversation moved on to something lighter, and Belle enjoyed talking to him. All too soon, he said, “Okay, I have to go talk to Adam, but I sure liked hearing your voice.”

“Same,” she said. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t,” he said.

The call ended, and Belle sighed into the silence now lingering in her house. She didn’t mind it, and she went to refresh her coffee. With a fresh, steaming, creamed cup, she curled into her couch and put on her favorite movie. One by one, her cats joined her on the couch, and the four of them spent the rest of the morning together.

She finished her coffee and stroked Flower, the movie playing, but she didn’t hear much of it. Instead, her thoughts rotated around the gorgeous Harry Young and how long it would take him to write, rehearse, and record his last album.

Belle had been in that world for a while, and the music industry certainly wasn’t fast. “He won’t be home for at least a year,” she muttered to herself. “So don’t go falling in love with him because he called you once.”