An engine roared behind us and passed the driveway.
Another minute when I was confident the traveler couldn’t see us, I flipped on my headlights and proceeded down the trail toward the restaurant.
Harper exhaled a heavy sigh.
“Don’t worry. You’re safe here.” I pulled the truck up out front of the restaurant and shut off the engine. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
She followed out of the truck and behind me up the porch steps of the restaurant.
I unlocked the front door and flipped on the lights. I hurried to the shades, closing them, making sure that no one would see us inside, and while I didn’t intend on hanging out downstairs, I didn’t want to take any chances.
“Wow,” Harper whispered. She stood by the front door and shut it after she stepped inside.
I closed another shade, the curtains darkened the building from the outside. “Make sure you lock the door.”
Harper turned on her heels and secured the deadbolt before she stepped further into the restaurant. “What happened here?”
“Long story,” I said. With the last of the curtains shut, I glanced around, satisfied she wouldn’t be seen.
With her eyebrow raised, she stared at me.
Was she waiting for me to elaborate? She wasn’t the most forthcoming with the men chasing us with cameras. I assumed they were Paparazzi, but I wasn’t sure.
I’d never been chased by men with cameras, only men with guns.
She shrugged out of my coat and slowly let it slide off her shoulders before she held it out to me.
I took the coat from her grasp and carried it with me toward the staircase.
“Are you coming?” I called after her.
I didn’t turn around.
The soft patter of her footsteps was her answer.
She followed me up the stairwell and into my apartment. Harper cleared her throat.
I flipped on the lights and made sure the curtains upstairs were shut too. I closed the living room blinds that peeked out to the parking lot of the restaurant. While I wasn’t expecting visitors, I also didn’t want to chance it either. Clearly, she didn’t want to be seen or found.
“Have a seat,” I said and gestured toward the leather sofa.
She slunk down into the supple material. Slipping out of her shoes, she drew her legs up beside her. Her eyes were heavy.
Had she been exhausted, or was it the alcohol that made her sleepy?
“Thank you.” Her eyelids fluttered closed momentarily before they bounced back open. “You’re probably wondering what all that was about earlier, at the motel.”
I opened the wooden trunk my grandmother had given me and retrieved a throw blanket, offering it to her.
Harper’s hand stretched out, clutching the cotton before she pulled it over her legs. She seemed to relax under the warmth of the blanket.
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” I said. I wasn’t going to push her. If she wanted to tell me, she would.
Her eyelids fluttered closed again. This time she yawned and pulled the blanket higher toward her chin as she stretched out on the sofa.
I’d grab her a pillow to make her more comfortable if she wanted to crash here for the night.
“I do,” Harper said, a half-mumble. Her words seemed to slur together as she spoke. “The paparazzi are always after me. Thank you, Lincoln. You’re too kind.”