CHAPTER 6
Harper pushed openher door with a groan, stumbling inside. Her purse plummeted to the floor but her keys managed to land on the small side table, though they did miss the dish she usually kept them in.
Making her way to the couch, she fell into it, burying her face in a pillow. This had to be the worst day in the history of her life. It might even top losing her grandmother too early or having her parents get divorced.
Being told she only had a month in order to sink or swim had caught Harper completely off guard. She had no idea how she was going to do it. Should she go ahead and enter the competition? Would that matter in the end? Maybe she needed to spend her time building up her online orders. Should she run ads? Who would she target?
A low groan slipped through her lips. How did her life get to be such a mess? She had worked so hard during school, keeping up a part-time job in order to pay for the things her trust didn’t cover, and eventually leaving home to build a life here.
She had wonderful friends, had a crush on an amazing guy, even if he was only a dream at this point, and had built her art business up to about half of her monthly income. Neither her art, nor the trust were quite enough to live on, but combined, she had enough to be comfortable. And it was wonderful. Yes, she wanted to make a full-time living at her art, but she had faith she would get there.
“Just not in a month,” Harper whispered to her dark home. For another fifteen minutes, her mind swam. What could she do in such a short amount of time? Her heart sped up and she felt sweat bead at her hairline when she realized she had no choice.
I’ll have to win that competition.
Nothing else would be fast enough. Harper planned to do her best to build up her sales, but the odds of being able to double her income within just a few short weeks was almost impossible. Winning an award, however, could be a boost that could launch a career to the top.
She sat up, feeling three times her age, but forcing her stiff body to move. Walking down the hall, she opened her studio and turned on the light. Life would be a lot easier if Harper could find a painting she already had ready, rather than starting from scratch.
She began searching through the stacks of canvases piled along one wall. They were all so similar to each other that looking at one was like looking at the other. Harper had learned what people enjoyed in her area and had catered to it. Her first foray into something different was those food pictures, the very ones she had sold just this afternoon.
Disgusted, Harper let the canvases fall back into line and stomped out of the room, heading straight to the fridge. Half a slice of Aspen’s mint chocolate cake was in there and if there had ever been a need for sugar, it was now.
Harper practically threw the door off the hinges when she jerked the door open. Grabbing the box, she slammed the door, snatched a fork out of the drawer and threw herself at a chair. The first bite that landed in her mouth was much bigger than anyone would consider polite, but Harper didn’t care. She didn’t need manners. She needed to figure out how to win a competition she had no chance of winning.
While trying to chew, she stabbed at the cake, turning it into broken little pieces. Just like my life, she thought bitterly.
Closing her eyes, Harper hung her head. This was stupid. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered through her bite. Everything was wrong and Harper found herself wanting to curl up in a ball and cry.
“It won’t help,” she whispered, shoving another bite in her mouth. “It won’t help.” She barely got the last word out, her emotions choking her and making the cake taste like dirt.
She hated this. She hated feeling lost and unable to fix anything. She hated feeling like she was at her mother’s mercy. She hated the fact that her paintings were boring and all the same. She hated that her heart had chosen to yearn for someone she couldn’t have. She hated...
“I hate that I’m not doing anything about it.”
Harper shook her head. None of this would help. She wasn’t a victim. She had spent years going against her mother’s wishes in order to try and live her own life and Harper didn’t want to give up all that progress now. She couldn’t.
Her hand tightened on the fork to the point that the metal began to dig into her skin. She wasn’t a quitter. She might be struggling tonight, but that didn’t mean it had to stay that way. Slowly, Harper straightened her back. She took in a deep breath, expanding her chest as far as it would go before slowly letting it out. A month. She had a whole month. There was no need to panic. She would revamp her website. She would look into advertising. She would ask about putting her art in local shops and restaurants.
And I’ll paint something new and amazing for the competition.
She nodded firmly. She hadn’t come this far, to only come this far. Closing the container, Harper put the cake back in the fridge and grabbed a sketch pad and pencil. She was going to design something completely new. Something fresh and bright. Something that would catch the judge’s eye and give her the very attention she needed to save her business.
Harper bit the eraser, her mind jumping back and forth as she tried to settle on a specific design, but it was all a muddled mess. She needed to move. Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her keys and headed out the door. It was a little late, but she lived in a quiet neighborhood and the fresh air would do her good.
Harper turned right from her driveway and marched down the street. She let her eyes wander across the dark asphalt, noting the outline of picturesque cottages and clean-cut landscaping. Nothing around her was fancy, but it always looked nice. She knew if she took another turn, she would hit the boardwalk after a while. The ocean would be roaring, going about its business as if the world wasn’t falling apart at Harper’s feet.
She paused at the end of the street. Maybe a walk wasn’t exactly what she needed. Maybe it was sleep. She’d had a long day. She was emotionally spent and she was still frustrated with the situation. She needed her strength in order to handle the next four weeks.
Spinning on her heel, she went home. Her mailbox caught her attention as she arrived at her driveway and Harper stopped to check it. A pile of envelopes was inside and she grabbed them, closing the box and heading inside.
Once in the light, she flipped through, feeling a surge of excitement when she found a check from a small exhibit she had been a part of a few months ago. She hadn’t sold much, but right now every bit would help.
Continuing through, she paused. One of the envelopes was addressed to Mason Turley. “What in the world?” Harper looked at the return address and realized it was from one of the outdoor vendor markets they had both been a part of. Somehow, they had mixed up hers and Mason’s addresses. They were probably the only two people at the market from Seagull Cove.
Harper shook her head. Whatever. First thing in the morning, she’d deliver his mail, and then bury herself in the cottage and get straight to work. Her whole future depended on it.
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