There was only one club in Harmony: The Blue Note; and this was owned by a mildly well-known family, the latter part due to a scandal that had happened some years ago concerning the lady of the house and another married man. The Russells had stuck together through it all, but not without some consequence. A prominent doctor, Eve Russell�s license was revoked for relatively unknown reasons�though Sheridan was sure some bullshit excuse had been invented in the office to look pretty on paper�and T.C., already bitter about an injury that cut his tennis career short, had locked himself into hiding for quite a long time. Their two daughters, Whitney and Simone, suffered several cases of teen rebellion and a couple of stints in jail for mild to moderate offenses. About a year ago, the storm had calmed, and things were looking up for the whole family.
Sheridan learned this all over a pitcher of margaritas and a haze of cigarette smoke that left her coughing and lightheaded. The source of all this unseemly gossip, Hank Bennett, grinned at her at the finish of another oh-so-scandalous tale about the eldest daughter and asked her for a dance.
Braver than usual in her impaired state, Sheridan agreed, and accompanied him to the dance floor.
All eyes were on her, but this was something that Sheridan was not unused to. Despite all of her complaining about the paparazzi that seemed to follow her like a plague, about the crazy fans that stopped her in the most shocking places to ask for her autograph�despite all this, she liked the attention. In fact, she sort of missed it, being in this little town where nobody gave a damn about her�except to witness a few moments� misery at her expense. She got the feeling that people in Harmony just didn�t like her.
This added to the fact that she just could not seem to find anything on Ella DuBois, had driven her to drink tonight. It was the reason that she had accepted Hank�s invitation to the �most exclusive club in Harmony� (his words), only to be disappointed at the sight of a little jazz club that had packed about twenty people tops. It was the reason that she stuck around despite this and drank half a pitcher of margaritas.
Now she was getting extra close and personal with Hank Bennett on the dance floor in front of twenty pairs of wide, interested eyes, and she just didn�t give a damn. Let them spread it across every paper in the good old USA. She was just too drunk to care at this point.
Of course, that wasn�t the case the next morning when Milly timidly murmured her mistress� name a few times before her father�s angry voice blared over the nearby speakerphone, �What in God�s name were you thinking, Sheridan?!�
She had passed out on her living-room couch in last night�s clothes, and her head felt like it had just split in half. She bolted upright and squinted into Milly�s face. �What?� was all she could manage.
�Your picture. Your picture spread across every damnable tabloid the universe has to offer, with you what can only be described as canoodling some commoner�and who gives a damn about your career? Milly, show her.�
Sheridan blinked a few times at the little black phone that seemed to be ever-present. This was her father, or all that she had ever known of him: a black telephone that once in a while barked at her that she had done this or that wrong. She accepted the tabloid from Milly and scanned the cover. There she was, obviously drunk. Her glassy gaze had captured Hank�s, her mouth wide open in what seemed to be a hysterical laugh. One of his hands was gripping her bum and the other was dangerously close to another kind of curve. Sheridan moaned audibly.
�You think so, too, then?� her father�s voice demanded irritably. �Do you know what this could do to you, Sheridan? Do you have any idea?�
Sheridan sighed and stared at the headline: Wild Child: Party Over Pay? The caption beneath it read, Father Crane fed up with daughter�s partying ways�threatens to cut her off unless she starts taking her career seriously.
�How did they even know where I was?� she wondered aloud, rubbing her temples. �Ridiculous.�
�It�s not like you made it a big secret,� her father said sternly. �You really need to take this as a sign that it�s time to go back to Paris. Forget this whole Ella nonsense. Let it rest. Your career is in jeopardy now, which you will discover as soon as you read the article inside. Do you want to go chasing the ghosts of the past, or would you rather worry about your future? It�s your call, Sheridan.�
The line went dead. Sheridan stared at the phone for a full minute before tossing the magazine aside. She couldn�t worry about that right now. She was furious that they had found her, even more furious that she had managed to screw up yet again, and to top it all off, she was hung over.
She needed coffee.
This turned out to be no easy task. She stepped outside of the mansion expecting to make her way to the nice, cozy coffee house with the waitress that hated her and the ever-present Officer Lopez-Fitzgerald. This was what would be familiar in the little town of Harmony, Maine. But nothing in Sheridan Crane�s life was ever really predictable, as the little crowd of paparazzi outside her front door proved. She could not for the life of her make it through the pack, so she shut the door angrily in their faces and turned to Milly.
�For God�s sake,� she ground out. �Go get me a coffee, Milly.�
The maid managed to wipe the offended look off of her face before Sheridan caught it. This was something she had mastered over her years in the Cranes� employ. �Yes, ma�am,� she mumbled, bowing her head as she made her way to the front door. Sheridan stopped her just before she stepped outside and stared her straight in the eyes.
�I don�t say it enough, Milly, but being here in Harmony�well, I�m learning. So�thank you.�
Wiping the shocked look off of her face was not something that Milly had mastered. She could not remember a time when a Crane had ever thanked her for her services. She bobbed a curtsy towards Sheridan and simply said, �You�re welcome.� Then she made her way out the front door, not daring to look back.
*****
A half hour later, just as Sheridan was contemplating grabbing a kitchen knife and threatening her way through the overwhelming crowd of paparazzi outside, salvation came in the form of one Officer Lopez-Fitzgerald and a large cup of steaming coffee that tempted her senses. Milly followed him with an apologetic look on her face.
She bowed her head and mumbled, �I�m sorry, ma�am, I couldn�t make it through the paparazzi, and Officer Lopez-Fitzgerald offered to help.�
�Ohhh,� Sheridan moaned, taking the cup of coffee from Luis without even glancing at him. �I don�t care. I just don�t care. Bless you.�
She took a gulp, and Milly inched away unnoticed, preparing to reappear only when her name was called. Luis made his way into the living-room without invitation and called back to Sheridan, �Seems like you�ve had a busy night.�
Sheridan followed, a wry smile tilting her lips. �You could say that.�
Luis stopped in the middle of the living-room and folded his arms, scanning her appearance. Sheridan shifted under his gaze, all at once uncomfortable�and incredibly aware of the fact that she looked like she might have just crawled out of a dumpster.
He cleared his throat, not making a comment either way. �I know that you didn�t want to ever see my face again, so I�ll make this quick. The little�disturbance�� he said the word with a curl of his lips that Sheridan recognized as disgust ��that you and Hank caused last night has turned Harmony inside-out. Frankly, Miss Crane, your entire stay in Harmony has the town on edge�but since your family owns about half the town, there�s not really much we can do.� He smiled, but it wasn�t a friendly smile. Sheridan�s gaze turned icy. This obviously wasn�t a courtesy call.
�And?� she demanded, having had enough lecturing for one morning.
�Well, I wouldn�t even have bothered to come, but the chief thought that maybe there was something you could do about the circus outside. You see, we�re generally a quiet town.� He paused for a minute, seeming to debate something, and then said, �Your father informed the chief that he wasn�t quite behind your decision to come to Harmony in the first place, so he doesn�t mind if we, ah, encourage a hasty exit�so to speak.�
A stab of betrayal sliced through Sheridan. �My father called the police station?� she asked quietly.
�Not so much to make you leave as to�well, back our decision. As a society,� he added, seemingly as an afterthought. �Harmony just isn�t used to this kind of behavior.�
�Wait,� Sheridan said, suddenly feeling a bubble of laughter in her throat. She had the fleeting thought that she might have just been pushed into hysterics. �So let me get this straight. I danced last night at a club. A dance club. With this nice guy who I met earlier in the day�and I was having a bad day, let me tell you.� She smiled, but it didn�t reach her eyes, and she felt kind of wild. �You see, I can�t seem to find anything about a girl that I was friends with who threw herself out a frickin� window in my house when I was a little girl, and I can�t even remember her for God�s sake; and nobody in all of Harmony likes me, save for one guy who I�m apparently not allowed to dance with. My father is a freaking phone. And now you�re actually telling me that you�re throwing me out of Harmony? Because I happen to be famous?�
She let her breath out in a whoosh, gave him the dirtiest look she could muster, snatched her purse off the table where she had carelessly tossed it last night, and walked away. Over her shoulder, she called, �I would have thought better of you, Officer Lopez-Fitzgerald.�
Because she was famous, because she had grown up knowing vanity, she pulled a pair of huge Dior sunglasses out of her bag to cover the effects of last night�s alcohol binge. Then she opened the front door, and the cameras went off, and she smiled�because that was what she was best at: Putting a face on for the public. She ignored the questions and made her way through the frenzied crowd with some amount of difficulty. The cameras were still going off when she stepped into her rented car; they were still going off as she pulled out of the driveway. Only when she was certain that nobody could see her did she pull off her sunglasses and wipe her tear-drenched eyes.
If anything had come of this awful day, one thing was for certain: She was staying in Harmony.
Her father did everything for a reason, and Sheridan was absolutely dead-positive that he wanted her out of Harmony for a damn good one.
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