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Christ, the label might have sent a team of lawyers, too.
He put his hat back on, then jumped in his seat as Harper switched lanes and cut off a minivan. The blare of a horn pierced the air, and he braced for the worst. Not two seconds later, Harper hit the brakes and a flurry of lollipops and crinkly candy wrappers slid out from beneath his seat and accumulated around his feet.
“What the hell?” he uttered.
How many lollipops did she consume in a day?
A muscle ticked in her jaw. “I haven’t had a chance to tidy up my car.”
He collected the wrappers and stuffed them into the glove box. “What do you eat besides lollipops and bonbons?”
“This week? That’s all I’ve been eating. And I would warn you not to critique a woman’s diet while she’s driving.”
That was sage advice. Although, her driving couldn’t get much worse. He sighed, then studied the dash display and wasn’t surprised to see the check engine light illuminated.
“When was the last time you had your car serviced?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know?”
“You don’t know when you last had the oil changed?”
“Carol isn’t bothered by things like oil and routine maintenance.”
The high-pitched whine of Carol’s failing serpentine belt begged to differ.
Harper hit the brakes at a red light and pinned him with her hazel gaze. “What exactly did your manager say when she called?”
Here they go again.
“It’s like I told you before. She didn’t say much. She gave me the address and said we needed to meet her there for a meeting. She said time was of the essence and it couldn’t wait.”
“Am I about to encounter a gaggle of lawyers? Because, FYI,” she announced, hitting a few high notes with her flustered opera voice, “I didn’t marry you to steal your money. You don’t have to worry. I’m not some gold digger. You can let your management team know that they can call it off if this is some shakedown. I don’t want anything from you.”
Her words hit like bullets to his chest. “I know you’re not a gold digger,” he said. “Mitzi, my manager, also said things would make sense once we met. I don’t know if this is about a legal issue.”
A legal issue.
Was that what Harper was to him now?
“This is why I don’t date musicians,” she muttered.
“Well, you married one,” he grumbled.
She glanced at him, then hit the gas. “On a dare.”
“Did you date Vance Vibe on a dare?” he bit out, and instantly wished he could take it back.
Her shoulders angled forward as if she were fighting the urge to collapse in on herself. “No,” she said without an ounce of fight. “There was no dare. He fooled me into thinking he loved me.”
Damned Vance Vibe. He really should have hit the guy when he had a chance.
“I’m sorry, Harper, that’s rough.”
She kept her gaze on the road.
He had to get her talking. “Penny said he stole your music. What song?”
She huffed a humorless little laugh. “The one that made him famous.”
