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Chapter33
HARPER
“Do, re, mi, sing with me. Hey, everyone, it’s Bonbon Barbie.”
She said her welcoming line, but it took a hell of a lot of effort to deliver it with a smile.
She balanced her laptop on her knees and allowed it to rest against the Volvo’s steering wheel.
Yep, that’s right. She and Carol, the brown Volvo, had reunited, but unlike the song, it didn’t feel so good.
She shifted in her seat, and her leg brushed against something crusty.
Ew!
It could be anything from a dollop of ketchup from 2010 to a piece of a lollipop from ten minutes ago. She missed the Lamborghini’s buttery-soft leather. But there was no way she was about to drive the luxury nanny mobile. She turned up the dial on her manufactured grin, straightened her feathery mask, and stared into her laptop’s camera. “Today, we’ll do a quick lesson on the difference between the major and minor keys.”
She could do it. She could go back to her old life.
What choice did she have?
She glanced past the screen as a fluttery striped awning caught her eye and she glimpsed Mr. Sweet’s Cupid Bakery.
Okay, maybe this wasn’t the greatest place to park and teach a lesson.
Granted, she was able to piggyback off their bakery Wi-Fi. However, this was in Denver. A person could trip and fall into half a dozen hipster-owned coffee shops with perfectly adequate internet service.
Why was she here?
The easy answer was bonbons. But the real reason stung too much to dwell on.
She shifted again, trying to steady the laptop or, possibly, herself.
At this point, it was a toss-up.
She squirmed like the internet’s version of the Princess and the Pea. It wasn’t like she had a lot of room in there—especially with a stack of empty pastry boxes littered across the passenger seat.
She’d been wallowing in Pity Party Central while feasting on a hefty helping of rage-pie and had gone into serial bonbon consumption mode. If one of those Likert scales existed for a woman scorned and thoroughly pissed-off, she’d be off the charts.
She’d turned to the one thing that never let her down.
Chocolate.
Was it possible to eat away her sorrow?
She’d either find out or become the literal embodiment of death by chocolate.
Despite consuming close to the weight of an elephant in bonbons since she’d returned from Italy, she remained conscious, but the pain hadn’t subsided.
Not even close.
She glanced at her phone, nestled among lollipop wrappers and sucker sticks dotted with candy remnants. There were about a bazillion missed calls and texts from her friends and a few messages from Schuman.
And what about Landon?
Had she heard from him?
Nope, not a text, call, or even an email.
