It'd been officially one month after the kidnapping, and most of it had been spent in the hospital. Harper was eager to get back into some kind of real schedule. Maybe then she wouldn't have to pay attention to the constant loop of images in her head. After she dried her hair in the bathroom, she moved back into the bedroom to get changed.
Last night was her first night sleeping in her own bed, completely alone. She had Darcy, but he didn't really count. Harper dressed in denim, khaki capris and a mint green top. She slid her feet in her sandals and pulled her jacket on, then she grabbed her beach bag and her sunglasses on the way out of the apartment.
Two days ago, she'd decided the Hut wasn't the right job for her anymore. So she did some looking around and she found a couple of jobs to apply for. Steve and Layla both agreed that Harper going back to work wasn't such a good idea, that she needed more time. But Harper wasn't going to give up that easily.
She slid in behind the wheel of her van and started the engine, then began driving. It was a short drive to her first stop—Nani Kahakai Photography. When Harper was going to school at San Diego State, she took a short photography course and took pictures as a side-job for gas money.
It started as just a way to make money, but she grew fond of photography and art. She hadn't worked a camera in years, but she figured it was worth a shot. She pulled into a parking space in front of the small building, shaded by a few trees. Harper cut the engine and hopped out of her van, then started to the entrance of the building.
As she pushed through the door, a wave of conditioned air hit her—along with the smell of an orchid scented candle. The room was small. There was a dark wood desk to the right of the entrance, with two chairs in front of it. Pictures lined the walls, and Harper located the scented candle. It was perched on the shelf beside another door, across the room from the entrance.
Just then, a nicely dressed, brunette woman entered the room from the second door. She smiled politely and moved to sit behind the wooden desk. "Good morning," the woman said. "How can I help you?" Harper smiled back and sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. She put her beach bag at her feet and sat upright. "Hi, I spoke with a woman on the phone yesterday—her name was Karen?" Harper said, trying to remember the name correctly.
"That's me," Karen said. "You must be Harper Kelly."
"Yes. I was interested in applying-"
"Do you have any prior photography experience?" Karen asked.
Harper nodded. "Yes, I do."
"Do you have a portfolio? A Resume?" Karen asked. Harper reached into her beach bag and pulled out her printed resume and her folder acting as a portfolio. Thankfully, Harper had had some photos left from her photography days. She gave both to Karen across the desk, and Karen took them. Karen opened Harper's portfolio first—obviously the camera work was more important.
Harper sat silently, resisting the urge to tap her toes or bite her nails. "I see some potential," Karen commented, slowly nodding as she flipped a page. "What is your interest in photography?"
"Well, um...to be honest, I don't know. I was just drawn to the beauty in each image. I didn't plan a career in photography," Harper said, reminiscent of her college days. "It's been a while, honestly, but I want to pursue it." Karen nodded, obviously thinking about something. She looked at Harper's resume next.
Harper hadn't worked many enchanting jobs over her lifetime. It was mainly small time things like working as a help desk assistant at the public library, or barely holding a part time job at the local grocery store. Nothing huge, nothing important, and nothing particularly bright either.
Her only long time job was at the Hut. Karen closed Harper's resume and sat upright in her chair. "My colleagues and I will talk it over, and I will call you by the end of the week," Karen said.
Harper nodded. "Okay, thank you," she said, before grabbing her bag and standing. Harper took in a deep breath and she exited, happy to be away from that stupid scented candle. She slid into the driver's seat of her van and started it. Then she began driving to the second job possibility to drop off her application.
The second job possibility was a small coffee shop, a part of a large corporate chain of different restaurants and stores, Coco Coffee. Harper pulled into the parking along the street, beside the coffee shop, and cut the engine. She slid out and shut her door, then walked up to the door.
As she stepped inside, her nose was filled with the smell of fresh coffee and various baked sweets. It was a lot better than the scented candle. Harper went through the small dining room and to the counter, where a young woman was working the register. "Excuse me?" Harper said, stepping up to the counter. The woman turned, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing off her shoulder, and smiled. "Hi. What can I get you?" she asked.
"Actually, I'd just like to drop off my application," Harper smiled politely, sliding her application across the counter. The woman took it and glanced it over before looking back up at Harper. "Oh, great!" she said. "We haven't had many applicants, so it shouldn't be a long wait."
"Oh, okay, thanks," Harper said. "Have a nice day." Harper turned and headed for the door. Before Harper was out, the woman shouted, "You, too!" Harper sorted her keys on the small key ring she held as she pushed through the door to exit. Suddenly her shoulder slammed into something hard, nearly knocking her completely off balance. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," a familiar voice said.
Harper ruefully turned to see who she'd run into, and tried to act normal. As Harper had thought, it was Catherine. Steve's ex-girlfriend Catherine. "Oh no, it's okay," Harper waved it off, trying to keep her smile bright. "I wasn't watching where I was going."
"Well, maybe I could buy you a coffee, make it up to you?" Catherine said. She was genuinely being nice with Harper. But Harper didn't know what Steve had told Catherine about their relationship, and it was all a bit awkward for her. "It's okay, you don't have to do that," Harper said, trying to seem overly polite.
"No, really, I want to," Catherine pushed. Harper inwardly cringed at the idea. But, to be nice, she accepted the offer. "Alright, if you insist. I don't have anything else to do today," Harper said.
"Great!" Catherine said, moving to enter the coffee shop. Harper dropped her keys back into her bag with a short and quiet sigh—trying to be inconspicuous—and followed Catherine inside. They sat at a two-seat table by the left front wall, a wall of pure glass. "I want to apologize for that awkward introduction the other day," Catherine said. "I honestly didn't know I'd be back that day, and I was just so excited to see Steve, I didn't think-"
"It's fine," Harper said, waving it off with a smile. "Really, you weren't the problem that day."
"Either way, I feel really bad about it," Catherine said, genuinely empathetic. Just then, the waitress approached their table. She was tall, thin, and perky with a bright smile that could blind a war ship. "Hi there! Welcome to Coco Coffee House! What can I get you two lovely ladies today?" the waitress asked, holding a pad and pen ready.
"A regular coffee for me, thanks," Catherine said, smiling up at the waitress momentarily.
"I'd like a caramel latte, please," Harper said, smiling politely.
"Alright! I'll be right back with your beverages!" The waitress smiled once more, and then bounced away. Catherine turned back to Harper, and Harper could sense an awkward conversation coming on. She mentally braced herself. "So, how long have you known Steve?" Catherine asked. There it was. Harper sat upright in her chair a bit. "Um, four or five months," Harper said, casually.
Catherine nodded, just as the waitress reappeared with their drinks. She set the mugs down on the table and then scurried off. Harper started a blow and sip routine to distract herself from the elephant in the room. It seemed that only Harper noticed this elephant. Catherine seemed perfectly content holding a conversation with Harper. Looking for an escape seemed futile.