Page 62 of Reckless

Harlow just raised a brow, daring him to argue.

“I think obsessed is maybe not the best descriptor, though.” That was a whole different subject and not one he wanted to get into in public.

“If you say so,” she told him before trying the mushrooms that had been delivered to the table. “Jesus these are incredible.”

He tried them and then nodded his agreement. “It’s the tarragon.”

She took another bite and shrugged. “Whatever it is, I could eat a bucketful. If this was on toast or pasta, I might never eat anything else.”

Miles made a mental note to get the recipe so he could try a hand at it once he’d returned to Seattle after the tour was over. He’d make her mushroom pasta or whatever and they could eat it in his bed.

“You live on Bainbridge too?” she asked.

He nodded. “I do. My parents have a few acres and wanted me to build on their property but I chose a place far enough away but still close. It’s quiet on the island. Like a small town in a lot of ways really. Private. I grew up there. People know me but they leave me alone when I’m home. It’s something hard to find in other places. I use the studio at my parents’ house when I record.” Just like she did, he knew.

“Saves a ridiculous amount of money. And it sounds good. For your dad and for Earthquakes.”

“Exactly. My dad was sure to instill in me an understanding that even after I signed a recording contract, I’d be charged for everything I used or needed back against any profits. The wiser I was with the services I used and where, the more money I’d be saving myself. I’m betting your dad told you the same.”

Harlow nodded. “It’s why he built the studio at his house. He faced the same thing with his contracts so once they had the ability, they took control of their music recording.Control equals choices, Harlow Michelle, he said. And he was right. I can’t afford to build my own recording studio, but I don’t feel bad using his. And when we use that studio, I’m not obsessed with getting every possible thing I can out of every second because it costs so much. We can experiment. Get things wrong. Getting things wrong is the best way to find out how to get them right. But it costs time and money to make mistakes.”

Miles hadn’t really had to worry in that way. Not in the last five years or so. Earthquakes’s success had been pretty swift, which kept the lights on and the cost of failures turning into victories hadn’t been an issue.

More food showed up as the empty plates were whisked away.

“My parents are coming when we play the Gorge,” he told her. “They’d like me to see if you’d want to come to dinner the afternoon after the last show. They’ve rented a house not too far away. Maddie’s parents will be there too. Her uncles and their wives. Probably cousins. Plus my aunt and uncle, their spouses, and several of my cousins.” He’d talked to his mother about this just the morning before. She’d been excitedly planning for a huge celebration as it was the end of the tour and the whole freaking giant extended family would be in the area. She’d poked around for details of what he and Harlow were to one another, though it wasn’t that difficult because Miles had told her how special Harlow was to him. She’d told him to invite Harlow and the rest of Above Me to the party too.

“My dad and Jenna and Marcella and Cherry will be at the Gorge show. His tour will be done by that point. I think Nora’s family will be too though probably not Brian’s parents because they’re going on a trip and he’s joining them when the tour ends.”

“They’re all welcome. My mum will happily feed an army if it meant she got a good look at you and I together. Well, not personally. But arrange it.”

That made her chuckle, and he was glad for it.

“When we’re in Ottawa, my dad and the rest of the band want to do a big lunch. Same deal, you’ve been invited. The other day, Marcella told me my Pop let her know he thought your dad was a cool guy who probably raised a good man. But he obviously wants to peep that himself.”

He really liked it that she was including him in this stuff. Sure, that was what people did when they dated and got more serious. They met the family and all that. But he liked Richie and hoped lunch with him and the rest of the band would be far better than dinner with Gloria.

“Sounds good.” He paused, weighing his thoughts a few moments. “If I asked you to visit me when we were on our Europe leg, would you?” he blurted out before he changed his mind.

“Are you asking me?” she replied.

“Yes, I am. I know you have work here in the U.S. doing festivals at the beginning of our tour, but maybe for the UK shows at the end since you’ll be in Europe at that time? We wind up in London at the O2. Before that we’ll be in Edinburgh, Cardiff, Leeds, and Manchester. Whichever and how many days you can be there I’m happy to take.” They could fly home together at the end. Maybe he could cajole her into staying at his house for a few days when they returned.

Her expression was something he’d remember for a really long time. Pleasure to be invited and at the idea of their being together. “I’d like that. By late-September our shows both here and in Europe should be finished for the year. Looks like we finish up in Amsterdam. Quick flight to London from there.”

Miles smiled, happy as hell. There was more for them both once this US tour was done. He’d wanted that a whole lot.

On the way back, in the car, she listened to the voicemails Gloria had left, and it had been impossible for Miles not to have heard all the screeching about that fucking interview with Sophia. Harlow was a whore who showed it off to the world. Miles was her sugar daddy. She was godless and unfeminine. The usual except for the sugar daddy stuff. The interview had played into that like it was her mother’s favorite song.

And it meant she’d have to tell him about the interview even though she knew it would make him feel bad and it wasn’t his fault at all. Fucking Gloria. Fucking Sophia. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I’ll tell you when we get back,” she told him quietly, knowing he was impatient to hear what was going on.

He grunted, obviously displeased with having to wait, but he took her hand and squeezed it, agreeing.

Still, he said, “What the hell is she talking about?” once they’d returned to the apartment.

Harlow took a deep breath. “Your ex-girlfriend interviewed me and Nora in New York. I read it after. Most of it was decent.” And it had been, surprisingly enough. Sophia said complimentary things about Above Me and their music, notably the songwriting she and Nora did.

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