“Well, apparently Latimer mentioned my story to Atwater in regard to making it into a film, and Atwater loved the idea,” she said, hoping to bring the conversation to an end. “I’m going to call Ellie about it. It’s completely up to her whether or not she’d want her life put on film.”
“That’s it?” Ruth asked when she shifted her attention back to her layouts. “Who else was at the party?”
“I really only met Atwater. And Elizabeth, of course.”
“What about Latimer? Did he make an appearance?”
“He did, in fact,” Harper said nonchalantly as she did a markup. “A brief one.”
“Well?” Ruth demanded. “Give me details, the dirtier the better.”
“I haven’t got much to tell,” Harper eluded. “The chardonnay was excellent. I caught a glimpse of the bottle. Apparently, Latimer has his own label.”
“He owns a small winery in Napa.”
“The terrace was fantastic, and so was the house. There was a jazz band.” Ruth looked like she wanted to bite her head off for giving such boring details. Harper hid a smile. Thankfully, her phone started to ring. She reached for it, but Ruth put her hand on the receiver, halting her.
“Did you speak to him? If not, to whom did Latimer talk? How long did he stay? What was his mood like? What was he wearing?”
“What was he wearing? Seriously?”
“The juice is squeezed from every detail, no matter how small.”
“There isn’t any juice. I told you, he only showed up briefly.” She shooed the other woman’s hand from her phone, scowling pointedly at her as she picked up the receiver.
“Sierra Tahoe Gazette, Harper McFadden speaking.”
“Hi.”
A shock went through her. She blinked, her gaze darting to Ruth. Ruth’s expression segued slowly from irritation to dawning curiosity.
“Hi,” Harper managed after a pause.
“I hope you don’t mind me calling you at the office. I’m often told I’m not a patient man,” Latimer said.
She picked up her cup, taking a sip of cold coffee in an attempt to look normal. “What is it you’re so impatient about?” she prevaricated.
“Your answer.”
“Oh. Yes, that. I haven’t spoken to Ellie yet.”
From the corner of her vision, she saw Ruth place her hands on Harper’s desk and lean in.
“That isn’t the answer I was referring to.”
She felt a flickering sensation in her lower belly at the sound of his low, compelling voice. She glanced up at Ruth, who was watching her like a hawk.
“It’s more complicated than you’re assuming,” she said, her manner brisk and professional.
“Is there someone there?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay, I’ll make this brief. I’m picking you up at your place for dinner tonight. Six thirty? Does that simplify things for you?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Harper said, squinting at her layout and making a nonsensical change.
“Yes. Well, like I said last night, some complications are unavoidable. Say yes.”