Page 49 of The Painter and His Poet

“I know that’s what you meant, but…”

“But?”

“Well, Robert isn’t well known for his kindness, let’s put it that way. He’s a ruthless businessman, and…” Daisy hesitates, chewing on her lip.

“And?”

“I think this is a conversation you need to have with Sterling,” she replies, chewing on her lip.

“Okay,” I reply, realising that she isn’t going to say anything further, and I don’t blame her, she probably feels a little cornered by my questioning. The last thing I want is for her to think I’m trying to go behind Sterling’s back and dig for information. But my concern only deepens, given Ben had said something similar as well.

“So, your voice…” Daisy says, her face lighting up with a beaming smile. “It’s pretty amazing.”

“Thank you.”

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve heard anything more beautiful.”

My cheeks heat as I let the compliment sink beneath my skin and really settle inside of me, but after years of my mother putting me down, and ridiculing my dreams of becoming a singer-songwriter, it’s still difficult to believe that my voice is as good as everyone appears to think it is. Not that I don’t appreciate her kindness, because I do.

“So, what do you do for a living?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I work here at the hotel,” she explains. “On reception. Have done so for a few years now.”

“You work with Dalton then?” I ask.

She pulls another face. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Youreallydon’t like him very much do you?” I mean, she said as much just a moment ago, but there’s disliking someone and there’s hating someone, and I’m beginning to get the impression she very much despises Dalton.

“Is it that obvious?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She reaches into her clutch, and pulls out a bright pink lipstick, taking off the cap as she begins to apply some to her lips. “I’m not the only one. I think most of the women he’s fucked and then cast aside hate him a whole lot too.”

“You’ve slept with him?” I blurt out, instantly cursing myself the moment the question leaves my lips when she snaps her head around to look at me.

“Oh, hell no!” she replies, making a gagging face. “I wouldn’t touch him if he was the last man on earth. I just meant that I’m one of the many women who dislike him. I just have different reasons as to why.”

“Ah, I see.” I don’t see, but I’m not in a position to delve any deeper given we’ve only just met.

She looks at me in the mirror, applying the last of her lipstick, before recapping it and placing it in her clutch. “Are you coming back outside, or do you need another minute?”

“I’m just going to stay in here for a bit,” I reply, dropping my gaze. I should go back outside and join in on the celebrations, but I’m not ready to face my mother, let alone Sterling.

“Sure thing,” she responds, turning to face me. “I get it. Meeting everyone for the first time tonight must be overwhelming.”

“It is,” I admit.

“Well, it’s been lovely chatting with you. If you ever need a friend, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me. Sterling has my number, and I happen to know a lovely café in town. I’d be happy to meet you for a coffee or something…” she offers, giving me a genuine smile.

“That’s really nice of you,” I reply, not making any promises.

It’s not that I don’t like her, and from first impressions she seems really friendly and exactly the type of person I’d be friends with if I had the chance. It's just that I’m not planning on sticking around long enough to form any lasting friendships.

“Well, I hope to see you around, Harlow,” she replies, leaving me to contemplate the true nature of Sterling and his father’s hostility.

THIRTEEN

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