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Heat rushed to my cheeks. He was just buttering me up, right? There was no way I could compete with his fashion-model groupies with their big tits, crop tops, and flat bellies. I could only imagine what they would wear to his party. Off-the-shoulder dresses with super-high leg slits? Skintight sheaths they’d have to wiggle into like worms?
The groupies moved in like restless cattle, unhappy with Harlon’s attention on me, not them.
“Oh, Harlon…” Groupie Girl One called.
“More champagne?” Groupie Girl Two threw in, hefting a bottle.
Nash moved in too, looking equally alarmed. I scowled. Was he going to warn me off Harlon like he’d warned me away from my father?
And, wait. That would make Nash two for two when it came to spotting warlocks. Was he another warlock? Some kind of other supernatural, maybe?
I huffed, tempted to go to Harlon’s party just to spite Nash. The man had to learn to mind his own business.
Then it hit me.Business. If I went to Harlon’s party, I might find out what he was up to. The way he was sneaking around suggested he was keeping his plans under wraps. Heck, even Bob Hardy, the real estate guy, didn’t seem to have a clear idea of what Harlon had planned.
“So, you’ll come?” Harlon thrust his card at me with an unspoken command.
I looked down at the card. His contact details were embossed on the front, and a swanky Sedona address was penciled in on the back in tight, neat print.
Harlon leaned in, turning up the charm. “As I said, I’d love to chat at five.”
The groupies swarmed in like Africanized honeybees. I stepped away, glad to let them reclaim the space around their sugar daddy.
“I’ll be there,” I assured him.
“Wonderful. And don’t worry about the dress code,” Harlon called with a little waggle of his eyebrows, channeling Richard Gere inPretty Woman.
Well, I was no Julia Roberts about to take off on a spending spree. But I did have a plan.
“Thanks again,” I called, turning back to work.
Five seconds later, Nash grabbed me by the arm, hissing, “You are not going to that snake’s party.”
Lucky for him, I pulled free without jabbing my elbow into his solar plexus. Did he think I was completely stupid? And who was he to tell me what to do?
Still, I flashed a sugar-sweet smile while quietly pocketing Harlon’s card.
“Of course not.”
At least, not without backup. But I wasn’t going to spill my whole plan. A plan with a heck of a lot of details to work out in a very short time.
“On three,” I told the ground crew. “One…two…three.”
We tipped the basket onto its side, then slid it into the trailer. Next, we heaved the rolled-up balloon behind it and finally dusted our hands.
“Our work here is done,” John joked, looking at his watch. “And it isn’t even eight a.m.”
Chico laughed. I pretended to. Nash pinned me with a piercing look I ignored.
Because my work might be done for the morning, but I had a lot to put in place by tomorrow. And the countdown had just begun.
Chapter Nine
ERIN
I knew Harlon’s vacation rental would be an impressive piece of real estate, but I still gawked when I pulled up at the gate.
Yes, the gate. With two guards and a dozen cameras pointed in every direction. If they’d wanted to check the oil level of my vintage Chevy, they probably could. Stone walls curtained the entire exclusive community, and a sign readCoyote Grove Ranch.
