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“I think I might be in too deep. With Mia, I mean.”
Her eyes dropped to the table. Deborah gave her a sideways look, and began speaking.
“Harper, if you’re about to do what I think you might do?—”
She was cut off by Harper’s phone ringing. She quickly got up from the booth, faced the other direction and checked who it was. It was a photographer with NME who was over from the UK.
“Hello, Harper! I wanted to thank you again for having Mia do the shoot with us today. She’s been an absolute treat to work with, a real professional, and she’d be welcome to do a shoot with me back home any time if she’s on tour.”
Harper made a mm-hmm noise but didn’t say anything.
Mia’s still doing photoshoots?
“I’ll have the edited versions sent straight to you once they’re finished, though fair warning, it might be a few weeks because I have other shoots to do while I’m here. Thank you again!”
“Thank you too, Damien, a pleasure as always.”
Harper hung up the phone and sat back into the booth, fishing her iPad out of her bag and loading Mia’s schedule.
“What is it? Is she alright?” asked Deborah.
“She’s... she’s been attending all of her scheduled interviews, photoshoots, recording sessions, shows...”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it? She’s still doing the work, evidently she isn’t showing up drunk, and both of your professional reputations are still intact!”
“If she’s still doing the work, and I’m still being kept in the loop, why won’t she talk to me? We had a real fun time on a personal level… I know nothing is official, but what is the matter with her?”
Deborah fumbled for something to say, but Harper had already loaded up Mia’s schedule for that day.
“She’s doing a show nearby in about an hour. I’m going to go, try to talk to her, see what’s going on.”
“Harper, are you sure now is a good time? Harper! Harper!”
But Harper was already halfway to the door, sending the price of her drink to Deborah so she wasn’t stuck for the bill. Esme, hippy as she was, would’ve probably given the drinks to them for nothing if given the opportunity, but neither woman was in a position where money was a problem.
The venue was a short walk from the Indigo Lounge, so Harper didn’t end up calling Michael for a ride, instead walking the few blocks. Pure adrenaline fueled her, her goal clear in her mind; she needed answers.
Heading in through the stage door around the back of the building, Harper barely noticed that not a single person stopped her, not even the security guards backstage. Still, she introduced herself to the stage manager for the evening, just to make sure everybody knew exactly who was here.
“Hi, there, I’m Harper Nightingale, so nice to meet you, can I speak to Mia for a moment?”
“If you can find her, Ma’am, she’s running late,” the stage manager said. “Any other time I’ve worked with her she’s been very punctual; I really don’t know what could have happened.”
As if it was timed, Mia came through the door, clearly having sobered up from her earlier partying.
“Harper! Hi, I can’t believe you came!”
She wrapped Harper up in a hug, but Harper was stiff and dead-set on talking. She didn’t move, instead stepping back when Mia moved away.
“Hello, Mia.” She decided to allow Mia to speak for herself.
“The last few weeks have been super busy; I’ve made all kinds of connections. Taylor, Stefan and Ricky have introduced me to so many people, thank you so much for setting us up! I’ve been networking, don’t worry, I’m not just having fun, although I’ve been having a lot of fun.”
She took her phone from out of her pocket, opening her gallery.
“I got a photo with Leon Addison at the afterparty last week! I’ve been meeting loads of people, too, and people want my autograph! Can you believe it?”
The stage manager butted in.
