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She nods. “Thanks. We’re through the worst of it. I was pregnant with the twins at the time.”
“Oh, wow. That’s just … awful.”
Shrugging, she offers me a sad smile. “You play the hand you’re dealt, right?”
“That you do,” I answer.
We’re both quiet for a second, before she says, “Look, it’s none of my business, but for what it’s worth, I’m really sorry about what you’re going through, too. I’m sure having your private life splashed all over the internet and every news channel doesn’t help matters.”
I let out a frustrated chuckle. “A lot of people think celebrities get what they deserve, which I get. I mean, no one forced me to go to Hollywood looking for fame and fortune. But, in my defense, you can never fully comprehend what the fame part really means until you’re in it.” I shake my head and look out the window again. “And even then, it’s not until you have your first child that you really get the impact of what you’ve done. By then it’s too late to take it all back.” I look at Moira, expecting to see a look of judgment, but instead, she’s wearing an expression of pure empathy.
I hurry to tell her, “I’d give it all up if I could save my kids from living like prisoners in their own home. Save them from the scandal that’s erupting.”
Nodding, Moira reaches out and puts her hand on mine to comfort me. “I believe you. Digger told me you were a really good mom, and he’s not one to hand out praise where it’s not due.”
I’m surprised by this—more pleased than I should be that her brother thinks highly of me. “I’m trying, but sometimes it seems like an impossible situation.”
“I can only imagine,” she tells me, squeezing my hand. “Listen, while you’re here, my family and I will do our level best to give you all a break from the chaos at home.”
Tears spring to my eyes and I nod at her, unable to express my gratitude while also keeping it together.
The bell above the front door rings and the kids burst into the restaurant, all breathless from running. “Mom! Mom! There’s a news van pulling up!” Wyatt yells, his eyes wide.
My heart stops for a second and my blood runs cold.
They found us.
Chapter14
Digger
I’m leaving one of the guest rooms after fixing a toilet that wouldn’t stop running when my cell phone rings. Moira’s name pops up on the screen. She sounds out of breath. “Digger, I’ve got Harper and the kids here. A couple of guys from Channel Six just showed up. Obviously, someone sold them out.”
My heart starts to pound at this news, which doesn’t make any sense. Harper Kennedy’s life is none of my business. Yet, somehow, in a very short period of time, I’ve started to feel responsible for her and her kids. I tell myself it’s no more than I would feel for any other guest, but deep down, I know that’s not true. “Who in the hell would have done that?” I ask, stepping up my pace to get to my truck.
“I’m pretty sure it must have been that idiot Gib who picked them up at the airport,” she says. “Harper said he took some pictures of them while they were panning. Looks like he sold them to TMZ, before tipping off a news crew about where they are.”
“Are they harassing her and the kids?”
“Not yet. I’ve got them in the kitchen with me hiding, but the reporter and his cameraman have seated themselves in a booth by the window. They’re either hungry or hoping to overhear some town gossip.”
“I’ll be right there,” I tell her, dropping my toolbox at the front desk.
* * *
I ride the Space Mountain of emotional roller coasters while driving to the diner. I go from worried that those leeches are going to do or say something to upset Harper and her kids to furious that Gib is such a douchebag of a human being.
I did some googling last night and found out that Harper’s ex left her for their nanny. If that isn’t bad enough, he’s flaunting his new relationship for the world to see. Bastard.
As badly as I don’t want a bunch of reporters hanging around bothering our guests, I’m not about to go into the diner with guns blazing. This situation has to be handled with the utmost discretion. Parking behind the building, I get out of my truck and walk through the back door. Harper, Lily, and Liam are all crowded around the prep table. The kids are kneading dough while Lloyd, the cook, looks on.
Moira peers through the small circular window into the dining room. Meanwhile, Harper stands frozen looking like a kitten about to be thrown into a lake. Wyatt and the twins are all seated at a small table playing Pokémon, but as soon as they see me, they rush over, all talking at once.
A cacophony of excitement ensues, from “OMG, Uncle Digger, you won’t believe this,” to “It was so scary. We ran like we were being chased by hungry bears!”
“Calm down, you guys,” I tell them, holding one finger over my mouth. “We can’t be too loud or those…”Don’t say losers in front of the kiddos… “People from the news might think there’s something going on back here.”
My proclamation is met by firmly nodding heads and the old “zip up your lips” move. I give them each a fist bump, then look over at Harper.
