Page 23 of Red Hot Harmony

“Whatever.” Ally rolled her eyes and stood up.

A brief exchange of goodbyes followed.

We walked back to our table in silence. The tension between us was real and palpable and I realized that I’d just done exactly what I’d been trying to avoid doing altogether.

“Are you ready to go home, Hendrix?” Dante asked as we approached, his gaze shooting back to the group of people Ally claimed were her friends. He studied them for a long moment, and I wondered if he saw something I hadn’t.

“Yeah, sure,” Ally mumbled and reached for Tallulah’s bag.

It was outside in the parking lot after she handed the cat to Harper that she finally bared her teeth.

“Why did you do that?” Her voice was hurt and anger and disappointment, and I felt like the energy of the entire world had been stuffed into this question with every intention of stabbing me to death with it.

Steps slowing and thoughts tripping, I turned to face her.

Harper and Dante continued in the direction of the Jaguar. They chose to give Ally and me space.

“Because you’re fifteen,” I spoke, a new, heavy emotion crashing through my chest from inside out. “Because I’m the adult here and I’m the one making the decisions. And I will be until you turn eighteen.”

Gosh, it sounded so totalitarian when I said it out loud.

“You're a hypocrite,” Ally spat out, then added, “I hate you.” She pushed past me, arms wrapped around her midsection, mouth schooled into a thin line.

The words shocked me a little. She’d said mean things to me before, but they hadn’t seemed to carry much meaning.

“Hey.” Dante’s silhouette filled my line of vision as he strode over. “Why don’t I take you home and Ally can stay at Harper’s tonight? And then you two can talk tomorrow morning.” He reached for my elbow, his fingers brushing my skin gently. “She’s not going to listen to you right now.”

He was right. My daughter had already climbed into the Jaguar and was ready to leave.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I told Dante.

“Oh, I’ve seen worse.” He cracked a smile. “I’m parked on the other side.”

“Okay, let me just say good night to Harper.”

I walked up to the purring Jaguar, where Ally was giving all her attention to Tallulah. She pretended I wasn’t there and I knew that trying to appeal to her objective side would end in failure and I’d already had one too many of those today.

Harper rounded the vehicle, leaving the keys in the ignition. “I promise we’ll have a serious talk when we get home,” he whispered.

“I know, but I don’t want her to get used to the idea that she can just run to you every time we have a fight.”

“I won’t let it happen, sweets.” He leaned forward a little and kissed my cheek. To receive affection like this from Harper was so rare that it surprised me. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

We were silent. The music had been turned down and I could hear only a hint of a melody somewhere in the back of the car. The slow drum beat. The weeping guitar. The muted vocals.

Dante drove with his seat leaned back, one hand draped over the steering wheel, the other torturing the stick of the lollipop protruding from the corner of his mouth. Everything about his pose—the slant of his shoulders, the stretch of his left leg, the rising tension in his face—had an obvious I’m-out-of-your-league effect.

My mother’s frightened expression came to mind.

Then Ally’s. Hers was upset.

You’re a hypocrite.

Was I really enforcing the rules only when it came to my daughter? What about me? Were there any rules at all?

At that, my thoughts pivoted.

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