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did?”

The crazy thing about Mum was although both her Aunt Stella and I did well with our careers, she herself didn’t come from money and hadn’t married into wealth. I had given her control of my child acting royalties as a way of giving her a comfortable living, but I knew it wasn’t much.

“Does Dad know how much money you’re spending? I can’t accept this.” I attempted to hand the bag back to her, but she held out her palm to stop me.

“Please don’t insult me, Emma. I’m doing quite well. I may not have graduated university, but I know a thing or two when it comes to negotiating your Christmas Special to the BBC.”

Now, that I could believe. As much as I was reluctant to accept the gift, I had to admit it was beautiful. I thanked her with a big hug.

I found out she planned on taking the red eye and, no, she didn’t want a ride to the airport. She called Stella instead and left early enough to catch dinner at 80/20, the new raw vegan restaurant in Hermosa Beach.

The oddity of it all was, although she drove me crazy while she was there, once she left, the house felt empty and sad.

I considered ringing Jaxson but thought better of it, deciding instead to phone my agent. Turned out he had caught wind of Frank’s attachment to the Field of Hearts project and through some act of Hollywood sorcery, got me on the same fragrance commercial series. He said the timing couldn’t have been better because the client wanted to film right away. The ads would run on a popular web series and be like mini James Bond movies—Frank in a tux drinking martinis in Monte Carlo, that sort of thing. Except they’d be filmed in Funner, California instead of Monaco. We’d be done within a week, but Frank’s PR guy thought it would be a good idea if we were seen together to create some buzz. Who knew getting publicity for a perfume ad was so complicated?

By the time I was ready for bed, I noticed Rosario had replenished the pantry with all the staples. I chose a bag of peanut butter pretzels and went upstairs to watch telly in bed. My mobile sat on my nightstand without so much as a text from Jax. I stared at it for ages, willing it to ring—preferring Jaxson’s gentle voice reading Jane Eyre instead of some movie I had in my queue.

And then the screen of my iPhone lit up and for a split second, I believed The Force was in me, and I was in The Force, somehow conjuring Jaxson into the device. I soon discovered it was a text from Harriet. I was too old to start Jedi training anyhow.

Harriet: You awake?

Me: Yup.

The ringer went off right away. Harriet’s ringtone was Pretty Woman by Roy Orbison.

“Hey, I missed you today. Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “I needed some me time, you know? I got a wax and a mani-pedi.”

“Sounds delightful.”

“It was. It gave me some time to process seeing Martínez again.”

“Oh, how did that go?”

To be honest, with all this Elton drama and Frank coming into town, I forgot all about Martín. I wasn’t even thinking Harriet might run into him at Karaoke Unplugged.

“It was fine,” she said with a trace of sadness in her tone. “It was the first time I’d seen him since… well, anyway, now that’s over with, it won’t be awkward the next time.”

“Good for you, Harriet. I’m proud of you.”

“He was so nice, and even bought a round of drinks for our table. Isn’t that sweet?”

“Uh, sure.”

“And he told me he finally got caught up with all the seasons of Poldark. Remember when he promised he’d watch it?”

“Yes, but—”

“And he told me to come in any time, and he’ll reserve the best table for my friends if I call him in advance. And before I left, he took me aside to tell me there were no hard feelings. I think he mistook Frank for my boyfriend or something because he looked at him with a weird expression when he said that. Oh, I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, Emma. What should I do?”

This poor girl. Would she forever be seeking my advice with every silly encounter?

“Listen, Harriet,” I said decidedly. “You only feel awkward because this is the first time you’ve run into him after you turned him down. But now that it’s over, you both can get on with your lives. If he wants to remain friends, and it sounds like he does if he told you to ring him, then you need to create some boundaries.” Like I did with Jaxson? We all know how that turned out.

“Boundaries. Got it.”

“Good.”

After a moment of silence she asked, “Like, what do you mean, exactly? Can we still hang out?”

Oh, dear.

“You have to gauge if that’s right for your situation. Some men have a hard time being friends with women. There’s always an attraction, and let’s face it—guys are simple-minded creatures. They usually want more.”

Wow, I had lots of sage advice today. Where did that come from? Maybe I was starting to wonder if my friendships with men were all a farce? Was Frank simple-minded? Was Jaxson? And what about me? What were my feelings toward the men in my life? That’s why I loved chips. Chips were a lot less complicated and probably more satisfying.

“Thank you,” Harriet said. “I’m glad I could talk to you.”

“Me too.”

She paused before adding, “I know this probably sounds pathetic, but… you’re my best friend. Thank you for that, too.”

Awww. Nobody had ever said that to me before. Not even Jaxson, who I considered the very best of mates. When I thought of it, Harriet was the one female who could talk to me about anything. She was the girl I spent the most time with and the only one who wasn’t too busy to hang out on a whim. We had a

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