“Brett and Gabi are Loni’s children, and Brett works for me at Fairbanks Lumber,” Mr. Fairbanks said. “You’re all about the same age I believe. I’ve been trying to enlist Brett and Gabi to teach Jak what he needs to know about technology. Lord knows I’m pitifully inadequate when it comes to any of these apps the kids are using.” He smiled at Brett and Gabi, and Gabi crossed her arms and rolled her eyes dramatically. Wow. Was she really Harper’s age? She seemed petty, more like a twelve-year-old. Then again, Harper had probably come across as the town floozy. Everyone deserved a second chance, right? “I’d be happy to teach Jak the basics. I’m not on a lot of social media, but I can show him how it works.” She smiled at Jak and he looked relieved, taking her hand in his again. “He . . . probably needs a cell phone though,” she said, thinking as much of him as of herself, and how she’d felt like a stalker, calling him repeatedly over the last few days with no answer.
“Of course.” Mr. Fairbanks grimaced. “I can’t believe I let that slip my mind. Jak, my secretary will set you up with a cell phone.”
Harper squeezed his hand again, letting go.
A woman in a black and white uniform poked her head in the door telling them dinner was ready.
“Oh good. I’m starved,” Mrs. Fairbanks purred. But her eyes were on Jak and she licked her lips. Had she . . . had she meant that the way it seemed? Harper gave herself an internal head shake. Surely not.
“Allow me,” Brett said, taking her arm before she could protest. He led her to the table, pulling out her chair and immediately taking the one next to her. The one to her right was the head of the table and she looked back over her shoulder, flustered. Jak’s jaw was tight as he moved around the table, taking the seat across from her. She shot him a helpless smile.
Mr. Fairbanks took a seat at the head of the table, Mrs. Fairbanks next to Jak, and Gabi next to her mother.
The first course was brought out and the chitchat centered around the food. Harper took a spoonful of the rich tomato bisque, letting out an appreciative moan as the creamy soup hit her tongue. “Oh my gosh, that’s good.”
Brett leaned toward her, whispering so only she could hear. “I like the way you sound when you moan.”
Wait, what? Heat rushed to Harper’s face as she tried to work out what he’d said. She had to have misheard him. She gave him a shocked glance, and he smirked at her, tilting his chin. She hadn’t misheard him. Good lord, who were these people?
You’ll be one of us in no time.
God, please no.
She looked across the table to see Jak glaring coldly at Brett. Her skin prickled. A low growl emitted from Jak’s throat and his fingernails scraped across the wood table next to his bowl.
“Did he just . . . growl?” Gabi asked loudly and incredulously, a small laugh bubbling from her mouth. “Oh my God, he did. He growled.”
“He sure did, didn’t he?” Mrs. Fairbanks purred, unmistakably appreciative.
Harper didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She’d never met people with such a lack of class. And she’d grown up in the social services system. These were Fairbanks, for heaven’s sake. Was this all a joke? Would they all start laughing any minute?
Brett’s eyes widened as he took in Jak’s angry expression, and he scooted away from Harper, suddenly obsessed with his soup.
“I, uh . . . so . . . Mr. Fairbanks, that painting is beautiful,” Harper said, nodding at the oil painting of a field of flowers hanging over the buffet. “The ones in the hallway are by the same artist, aren’t they?”
“You have a good eye,” he said, giving her an appraising look. “Yes, Jak’s grandmother painted those. She was an amazing talent.” True sadness passed over his expression, and Harper thought back to what Jak had said about him being a better man . . . before his loss. But even so, why bring a group of barracudas into your home, she wondered, glancing at Loni, Gabi, and Brett.
“She was,” Jak said, looking back at the painting, apparently having moved on from Brett and his lecherous comments. Harper breathed an internal sigh of relief. “She got the flowers just right. The way the sunlight hits them that way right before it goes down for the night.” He lowered his eyes, appearing shy, uncertain about his comment.
“Well, nature boy would know,” Gabi muttered, taking a bored sip of her water.
Anger gripped Harper, her hand tightening around her napkin. “Yes. He would know. He knows things none of us could learn if we studied every textbook ever written. He’s a nature expert and his knowledge is something we should all revere. I know I do.” She raised her water glass to Jak, his smile shy but happy, his eyes wide.
“Hear hear to that,” Mr. Fairbanks said, raising his own glass, a look Harper swore was respect in his gaze as she met his eyes.
“So, Harper what is it you do, exactly?” Mrs. Fairbanks asked, abandoning her spoon in her still-full soup bowl. Hadn’t she said she was starving?
Harper set down the roll she’d been about to slather with butter. “I started my own company several years ago. I do nature tours, take tourists out to camp or to hunt, or sometimes just for the day.”
“I . . . see,” Mrs. Fairbanks said, looking as though Harper had just told her she cleaned Port-a-Potties for a living.
“Started your own company, did you? And so young. Very enterprising,” Mr. Fairbanks said, and he seemed genuinely impressed. “Do you enjoy it?”
She smiled. “I do. But I don’t believe I want to do it forever. I plan to start classes in Missoula soon.”
Mr. Fairbanks gave her another nod and then picked up his glass once more, smiling around the table. “Well, let me propose a toast. To new endeavors”—he turned his eyes to Harper and smiled—“and to having my grandson back.” He appeared to get choked up for a moment, but just as quickly recovered. “It’s been too long since a Fairbanks son has sat at the family table.”
Everyone raised their glasses, Brett scowling, Gabi rolling her eyes again, and Loni’s gaze glued to Jak. Harper suddenly wished she’d asked for something stronger than water.