Page 111 of Red Hot Harmony

“There’s a fire near Topanga, by the Villa. And 405 is shut down. It’s bad, sweets.”

Worry knifed through my chest. “What about the boutique?”

“The air here was horrible earlier, but I don’t think the fire will reach this deep into the city. We should be okay.”

“I hope so.”

“You’ll see,” Harper said encouragingly.

“Thanks.”

“For what?” He laughed softly.

“For staying positive in this mess.”

“Well, being negative won’t change anything, so…”

He didn’t complete his thought, but he didn’t need to. I understood where he was coming from perfectly.

“I’ll let you go now,” I told him. “I’m exhausted and I need to get some rest to be able to function tomorrow. I still have to have a serious conversation with Ally about the stunt she pulled.”

“Tell me about it when I see you.”

“Yeah. Good night.”

“Good night, sweets.”

And that was the end of this wretched day.

I woke up disoriented, with every inch of my body hurting and my throat wound tight.

Ally was on the bed next to me, curled into a ball. Several flakes of ash hid in her tangled purple-streaked strands.

Taking a deep breath, I reached for my phone that was charging on the nightstand and checked the time. It was almost ten. No wonder my head hurt so much. It wasn’t in my nature to sleep this late.

At first, the lack of noise was bizarre, but as I rolled onto my side and studied my daughter’s mascara-smudged features, I began to appreciate the silence.

The windows must have been soundproof because I could barely hear the heavy rumble of the ocean.

Eventually, I stood up, grabbed the phone, and padded toward the bathroom to clean myself up and make some calls.

There was a set of brand-new toothbrushes in one of the drawers and fresh towels on the shelves.

My unruly hair needed to be washed again and styled properly with a blow-dryer—which I skipped last night—to look acceptable, but I didn’t want to wake up Ally. Therefore, I opted for a messy bun.

The woman with the conservative upbringing in me cringed inwardly at the reflection in the mirror above the marble sink, but nothing could beat my daughter's drunk antics and her morning breath.

Then I checked the news, searching for updates about the Porter Ranch area. I hadn’t been able to speak to my father since the party and wanted to make sure he was okay, but I kept getting a no service message each time I tried to make a call.

After several unsuccessful attempts to reach him on his cell and then the home line, I dialed my mother. Although I probably should have checked in with Malik first to see if he was still in his right mind, because Eloise Rockwell could be dangerous when one was subjected to her company in close quarters with no viable way out.

“I’m about to leave your friend’s place,” she reported to me. “The fire by the canyon road was put out last night, so I’m going to head back to the estate.”

“Have you talked to Dad? I can’t get through.”

“Oh, honey.” A hint of softness crawled into her voice. “The reception at home has been very poor for several days now. It’s that tower. He’s fine. Juan stayed with him.”

My father was a stubborn man, the kind who’d whip out a hose and start watering his house to save it from the fire rather than leaving in order to save himself. But at least, he wasn’t alone.

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