Perfect Harmony: Out July 15th!

YA’LL.

So I came up with a book in the middle of writing another book, that will hopefully be out later this year. It’s a pretty ambitious book for me, a historical romance (WWII era so nothing too historical), and I’ve spent more time on that book than any other so I have high expectations for it. Well, it was supposed to be my next release but I got overwhelmed with it about 3/4 of the way through and started to look through my other WIP’s. Well, true to procrastination form, instead of finishing something else I decided to start a WHOLE OTHER PROJECT. Thankfully, my instincts were right because once I started on this particular grain it sort of flowed out and became one of my fastest created books (of late, anyway. My very first book came out in three weeks. Imagine me writing a whole book in three weeks these days :p :p :p).

So confident was I that I would be able to knock the rest of this book out that I set a release date… before I was done with the book. Yeah. I will never do that again.

I did it as an incentive to get another release out this year, and to capitalize on the Bookbub deal that I’d gotten earlier. I really wanted to get myself back in writing shape and with so much of it flowing out easily, I gave myself a month push. And yeah, everything worked out fine but… holy stress balls. NEVER AGAIN! I just have to come to grips with the understanding that I’m just not going to write at the pace that I started with. My kids are older and I being chained to my desk all day– especially during the summer (such a genius move :/) is just not feasible right now.

Some of you might’ve noticed that it didn’t even have a cover when I published it, and I didn’t have any inspiration for it for a while. And then for some reason, I went totally 80’s vinyl album with it. I wish I had some 80’s thematic element to tie it in. In fact, I tried to come up with one but unfortunately, I wasn’t able to appear as clever as I wanted haha. It just kinda came out like that and I love it:

Perfect Harmony: A BWWM Amnesia Romance

So the story centers around Harmony Rhoades and Ethan Hawthorne, who have been married for four years technically at the start of the story. Their marriage is only a legal formality so that Ethan can inherit his father’s money BUT… Ethan gets Amnesia, hijinx ensue. Pretty standard one-click romance material, lol. I didn’t have any particular picture in my mind of these two but I found these two who represent them well.

At any rate, this book was sort of a fun break away from my ambitious WIP and completely different in tone. I’d been wanting to do an amnesia romance for a long time and the inspiration finally aligned. I tried not to make it too boring, but it’s hard, lol. I know there’s supposed to be all these exciting characters and conflicts and explosions but for whatever reason, it always comes out like this stage play vibe with just two people in a room. I can’t help it. Anyone who finds that subtle, emotional style a refreshing break from the norm will, of course, like this book. I feel like I’m getting better at writing– or at least my own expectations are rising– so I’m super conscious of my writing matching those new levels, and I think I’ve done that here. A solid premise does most of the work, and I think that’s what I was able to achieve, using a combination of things that I’ve read and ideas that I had already and sort of merged.

Here’s an excerpt!

Perfect Harmony: Sneak Peek Prologue

For the big 3-0, Harmony Rhoades wanted to do the one thing she’d been afraid to do for the last 20 years: roller skate at the skating rink.

She’d loved it as a child. Even though she was terrible. Her sister, cousins, and even her parents were like natural-born swans. And it seemed like no matter how much coaching they gave her, she couldn’t improve.

She got as far as learning to turn corners with relative ease before she’d had her first and final spill on the rink floor in fourth grade when she’d collided with a little white boy from her school. Somehow her teeth met his forehead and he had to have stitches.

From then on, if she ever went to the skating rink again it was to pretend she’d just gotten off the rink and skate around on the carpet, or stand at the ledge of the balcony, watching the swans glide by.

By the time she was in high school, her skating rink days were gone. But now, she was resurrecting them.

She thought for sure that the place would be abandoned, that she and her friends would have it all to themselves. But it turned out, there were more generations of skaters being made. And right now, she was watching her parents show them all how to do it.

“Harmony, you getting out on that rink again or what?”

“Yeah, no, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You said you wanted to skate!”

“I know that, but it’s been two decades since I went that fast while not sitting in a chair in a car.”

“You’ll get used to it, come on!”

Her twin sister Deja dragged her back on the rink when Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch came on. It was terrifying, as the walls sped towards her at what she perceived was breakneck speed, but with her best friend Kelly on one side and her sister on the other, she felt safer. Safe enough to scream the entire time that is.

Deja was the twin that was good at everything immediately. The kind of twin that was so different from her that people almost never confused them. She wasn’t sure how their parents managed so easily to make sure their identities were separately forged but she was glad they never had to break the news to each other that they needed to branch out from one another. Deja was a news anchor in San Diego, not too far from where Harmony lived in Oceanside.

She brought enough cake and party trays sprawled out for everyone, even strangers. And ate surprisingly delicious skating rink pizza and nacho cheez.

She took a contented breath, glad she went with the skating rink idea. She almost did a girls’ trip to some winery, but even after all those years of growing up poor, nothing seemed to hold a candle to cheap fun.

Besides, Deja’s birthday celebration this year involved a yacht so there was no use competing. She wasn’t rich, but she had a habit of landing rich guy friends who chased her around in hopes of landing her. Harmony had a feeling this one was going to get his heart broken too.

The best birthday gift to herself was getting to such a stable place in her life that hitting 30 was practically painless. She’d landed a promotion as a hospital administrator only a few years into her career. Great pay, benefits, and perks as long as her arm.

Sure she didn’t have love yet, but she had “like.” And the good thing about having “like” is that it ensured that her career would never be in jeopardy. Nothing kept her priorities aligned like “like.”

And yeah, the Ethan thing had been harder than usual last year. Weird. Had brought about strange delusions, but Ethan himself was good about helping her keep those at bay. It was the one thing she could count on him to do.

Weird, but after four years she was older now and it was almost over.

She picked up another piece of pizza that she barely wanted. Fuck it. Her boyfriend Simon loved her body and at 30, her stellar metabolism was still relatively intact. She had enough money in the party budget to take a bite out of every single pizza slice they had anyway without remorse.

She looked out at the big blue rink that was like some kind of ice planet, while skaters of every size and shape skitted along its surface. The older she got, the more she wondered if Gerald Hawthorne had been a genius. She couldn’t help thinking about him on what was technically her anniversary.

Suddenly she sensed the lobby doors to the place letting the bright light of the late afternoon in.

Through the narrow glass window, one could see a single party of one had stopped at the ticket counter to enter without paying. The rink doors opened, the crowd in front of it parted. In walked a gorgeous well-dressed man in preppy casual clothes, curly, longish blond hair, and stubble.

When she noticed the shift in attention behind her, Harmony looked over her shoulder to watch him slowly saunter into the food court area, looking around until he spotted her.

He found Harmony standing alone at the rink’s ledge watching the skaters go by. He acknowledged her but didn’t relinquish a smile. He leaned on the barrier with an elbow propped next to hers as she watched him.

“Ethan,” she exclaimed with a measured demeanor.

“Happy birthday, Harmony,” he said, holding a beautifully wrapped gift the size of a book.

She pivoted her neck suspiciously as she squinted. The last time she’d seen him was a little over a year ago, when he’d somehow caught wind of her having a boyfriend. He was suspicious that the two might be planning to gouge him. They weren’t.

“Thanks,” she said as she took the present from his grasp. “What are you doing here?”

“So rude. Can I at least get a hug?” he offered uncharacteristically with a smirk. He seemed to be in a good mood.

She cautiously granted him a side hug with a furrowed brow. He was taller than her by nearly a foot, wearing an expensive polo and carrying his sunglasses. He smelled hypnotic and she tried not to swoon.

“Okay, so… to what do I owe the pleasure of this carouse with the common folk, Mr. Hawthorne?”

He shrugged. “Just, you know. Keeping up with tradition,” he replied. “I’m a little offended that I didn’t get an invitation this time.”

“Ah, I see. So all I had to do to get you to show up all these years was not invite you?”

“You know what they say. A Hawthorne always disappoints.”

She nodded her head cynically.

He looked out at the rink for a bit and Harmony couldn’t help trying to savor the moment, no matter how long it’d been. The feelings were long gone, but the man was still a work of art. Not everybody gets to live near the Louvre.

She snuck a look at his profile, but not long. She suspected he was probably watching her watch him, and she didn’t want him having satisfaction of any kind.

She knew he wasn’t staying. Staying just wasn’t something Ethan did. She couldn’t even imagine him being at his own palatial home for longer than a few minutes. The white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland couldn’t even fuck with Ethan he was so elusive. She couldn’t conceive of where he actually spent his time.

“So… last year, huh?” he casually brought up, as though he’d come there just to make conversation.

“Yep. Is that what’s got you in such a good mood?”

He shrugged with a smirk. “I took some E before I got here. Old-fashioned, I know. Think about what you’re going to do with your earnings?”

She looked out at the rink, avoiding his eyes. “Not really.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” he said.

“Going into the porn business?” she teased him.

“You laugh, but that could be very lucrative for me. No, I’ll be investing in more… intangibles. Crypto, NFT’s, you know. Gotta maintain a certain quality of life.”

“Jesus, you and the crypto,” she rolled her eyes.

Ethan was unapologetically a trust fund baby. He did nothing and had no profession. His father Gerald had made his money the same way his father had made his money. Property deals, land leases, licenses, bonds, and later branding. Brushing shoulders and granting favors. Whatever the legal version of the WASP mafia was.

His father had made Ethan work for nothing, his deepest regret. The torment he put himself through over it used to torment Harmony.

Yet, Ethan didn’t seem to be beyond hope, from what Harmony observed of him. He knew how to make money, standard rich kid know-how. Hedge funds. It may have all been a careful facade but he certainly seemed capable.

“Too bad you couldn’t get your hands on my money five years ago, huh?”

“You mean my money?” she corrected him.

“I might’ve even let you keep the ring after all this,” he bloviated.

She knew it was just his weird way of goading her to hate him. She chuckled in disbelief, shaking her head towards him.

“You’re really hell-bent on making all this a win, aren’t you?”

“It is a win,” he insisted.

“Not for me.”

“Especially for you.”

She looked back out at the rink, thinking of his father, her shortest long-term care patient to date. “This isn’t exactly respecting his wishes.”

“He had no right to ask it of you.”

“Maybe, but… I know what he was trying to do. Sad that it’s not gonna turn out the way he wanted,” she lamented.

“The dead have no right to impose their desires on the living.”

“That’s not what he was doing and you know it.”

Ethan sighed a sigh of relenting. “I know you think I take some kind of perverse joy in being mean to you or something, but it’s like you literally can’t help but walk into it. Just because he couldn’t use one side of his body, and told you a few stories with the other half, doesn’t mean you know the man. Or us. He spent his whole life using his wealth to manipulate us. And tried to do the same in death.”

Jee-ZUS, what a bastard.

Mr. Hawthorne lost his speech when he suffered a series of strokes and was dumped into Harmony’s facility. He eventually gained some abilities back thanks to their rocking speech therapy programs, but he always had his notepad and pen in the grip of his hand— thankfully his dominant one survived.

She tilted her head with a “yeah right” look, attempting a moment of introspection.

“It’s okay to admit that you miss him,” she said.

Ethan shifted in visible discomfort. “As I said, Harmony, just because you took care of him doesn’t mean you know anything about how our family works.”

She put a hand on her hip, her patience with him waning. They were the ugliest family in the world probably and yet spent so much time insisting that everyone else keep out as if anyone would want in.

“Listen, if you’re just here to tell me what I don’t know about, you can just get outta here. Thanks for the present.”

He stopped and stared as if indignant. Finally, he relinquished a grin with a shake of his head.

“You’re right, you’re right. I wasn’t gonna stay long anyway, obviously, I just… wanted to say I appreciate you being a good sport and all.”

“Sure. Guess next time I’ll see you will be at your lawyer’s office?”

He nodded. “Probably. Truly, I hate that the old man had to drag an innocent person through all this… kabuki theater,” he apologized.

God, she hated his apologies. Whatever wealthy people meant by apologizing it was positively odious.

“Well, I’m glad that you’re finally willing to admit that I was innocent,” she said.

“I never accused you of anything.”

“You never defended me either, but whatever.”

“Look, my mom and sister are witches, alright? Dramatic, bored witches. I haven’t taken them seriously in decades, I didn’t realize you had.”

“Relax, Ethan, I’m over it. Plus, I know you don’t believe that. You can stop… buttering me up or down or whatever it is you came here to do. I’m not gonna fumble the ball at the goal line, okay? I want out of this just as much as you do.”

Something about the way she said that made Ethan want to fuck her. He had a sick fascination with women who got tired of him. Probably some Freudian baggage he had no energy to unpack.

He reached out and grabbed a strand of her black, carefully highlighted hair as she spoke as if he couldn’t help it. Harmony just figured he was rich and gorgeous and had no sense that someone might object to him putting their hands on them. And he had no sense of it because it was never the case.

“Never seen you with your hair straight,” he said.

An unexpectedly candid commentary. She was 100% confident that the Hawthorne’s knew no black people so the bar was low and she was impressed.

“Sure you have,” she replied as if hypnotized. For a split second, she hoped if anyone was watching that they all thought he wanted her.

“Then I’ve never seen it both straight and down. You should wear it like this more.”

She claimed her satiny strands back with a hand combing it to the side. “Make you more comfortable, would it, Ethan?”

For some reason, Ethan had more hair critiques to share with her than a gay hairdresser. “You look better with your hair away from your face like that,” he’d once said. She spiraled and wore nothing but buns and ponytails for nearly a year.

“You never know, Harmony. Maybe in another life…” he flirted.

Miraculously she managed to stifle a smile. “Oh God, Ethan, just stop.”

He continued, smiling. “I’m just saying, I hate being forced to do anything. Like, to accept invitations, for instance. But once this contract is up, well… who knows,” he continued, feigning sincerity. Which was oddly new. Typically whatever sexual tension he liked to drum up with other women in his spare time was off-limits to Harmony, who was more like an unwelcome in-law.

Perhaps something had happened in the four years they’d known each other. She wasn’t some thirsty, naive Rapunzel miscast anymore, hoping against hope for a one-in-a-billion rescue. She was mature. Jaded. By him. And he’d noticed.

She’d also lost her virginity by this point and couldn’t bear the thought of Ethan making fun of her boring, vanilla bedroom performance. As much as she might fantasize about his.

Luckily, he wasn’t serious. He had primed her for optimal sarcasm and she couldn’t let him down.

“There’s not enough Gardisil in the world to make me ride that diseased bologna pony,” was her response.

At that, he smiled big and her body warmed. His deep brown eyes twinkled. “Careful, Harmony. I might take that as a challenge.”

She couldn’t stifle her smile anymore. She had to look away to not be confronted by his gloating satisfaction.

“My boyfriend might take issue with that,” she warned him.

“Oh God,” Ethan rolled his eyes. Harmony snickered a bit against her will. She couldn’t resist having a private joke with Ethan, who’d been unimpressed when her boyfriend tried to stand up to him and his accusations last year.

“What’s his name again?”

“Simon.”

“Where is that loser anyway?”

“He’s not a loser and the answer is home. Girls’ night out.”

“Probably masturbating. Like a loser.”

It was Simon that informed her of her lackluster performance in the bedroom. “Beached walrus” was the vivid description he gave. She laughed of course, at first. He was her first real relationship, so she knew she had a lot to learn.

But then it wouldn’t stop. Which was weird because she’d learned a lot by now and was starting not to see what he was talking about.

But she figured it must exist because it was a persistent thorn in their relationship.

Harmony didn’t think of her boyfriend as a loser, though. But then Ethan kept saying it and she couldn’t help wondering in some small distant part of her brain how he knew.

“What do you care?”

“You didn’t tell him about the deal, did you?” he asked, paranoid. His ultimate concern. It brought her back to reality.

“No,” she flatly assured him.

“Good. Promise me you’ll dump his ass once you become a billionaire.”

“His odds don’t look good, I’m sorry to say,” she sighed in lament. Especially after today.

Simon had been the first man she’d ever felt truly comfortable and confident with. He was an artist. He made her feel sexy. But he had a jealous streak— not of other men, of her. And she knew deep down they could never survive a wider chasm between their financial situations.

She would soon have to bravely assure herself that there was something better out there for her. And with a billion dollars she could afford to really look. She just had to find a way to keep her serendipitous fortune lowkey. Which also sounded exhausting.

It was time for the neon lights on the rink. She was lost in dread thinking about her life changing so drastically in 11 months. She told herself it wouldn’t, but obviously, it would. Probably in a bad way, knowing her life.

She could always refuse the money. There was still plenty of time. But it just seemed so foolish.

“You still got less than a year to find the man of your dreams,” he reassured her over the music.

“I’m counting on the money to make him do something completely two-faced that will give me the courage to leave him.”

He shook his head vigorously. “Don’t. He’ll sue you. They always do.”

Geez, he was right. He seemed to be speaking from experience. Ugh. This seemed so far away four years ago.

“Honestly, I don’t want to think about this at all tonight. I took a look at my new tax bracket and I’m not looking forward to this.”

“A good accountant will take care of that. I’ll get you Herbert’s number. Remind me.”

She sensed their correspondence drawing to a close. “I definitely will. Next year,” she said.

“Right,” he nodded. “Well, I should get out of here,” he said predictably. He was likely counting the minutes until the appropriate length of time passed. To his credit, the time he spent with her outside of obligations seemed to creep up a minute or two every year.

Suddenly Ethan leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. The way he had at the justice of the peace. And it had surprised her then too.

Everything in her wanted to hold onto it like a lifeline. The second kiss in four years. Could she be wearing him down?

Ugh, just stop, you idiot.

“Take care, Harmony Hawthorne.”

“You mean Harmony Rhoades,” she sent at his back as he made his way out.

He gave her a killer charismatic look with a subtly raised eyebrow. One of a billionaire taking you into his confidence, if only for a moment.

“Wear it while you still can,” he grinned as he sauntered out.

Despite the fact that every woman there was gawking at him, he didn’t glance at a single one on his way to the door. He hopped back into his Lamborghini where it was waiting at the valet and he was gone.

She went back and sat with her friends who had apparently abandoned the rink altogether and came to sit and watch whatever was happening. She reached for a chicken wing nonchalantly even though she wasn’t hungry. Finally, her sister Deja spoke.

“Harmony… who in the name of emergency panties was that?”

A warm, unwarranted feeling of pride that she in no way earned came over her. She stifled a smile.

“My husband,” she said matter-of-factly as she tore at the tiny drumstick with her teeth.

She wasn’t supposed to say that, but she had less than a year left, so, fuck it. The contract was verbal.

Her friends instantly burst into whoops of laughter and gossipy tones while they high-fived each other, as though Harmony had been telling them a joke.

Chapter 1

Within minutes of her blowjob, Harmony was already pissed off.

Her boyfriend Simon had lain there in bed and looked at her, expectant. Then closed his eyes with a smile, head towards the ceiling. This was his way of asking for sex.

He knew that she hated when he initiated anything, so his solution was to not. He never put together that it was because he’d usually been such a profoundly inconsiderate human, not because she didn’t like subtlety.

Conversely, he didn’t like to just come out and ask for it, which she understood. But she wanted him to at least ask if she was even in the mood for it first, which he found lame.

He was certain that one magic day he was going to be able to transcend her boundaries with his mesmerizing sexual prowess. And every time he failed, his ego was covered in bruises.

Today, she had an excuse. And she reminded him as gently as she could.

“I’m still on my period a little bit Simon, I’d rather not.”

“That’s okay…can I get some head?”

She knew it was a mistake to give in to his requests for sex so often when she didn’t even want it, but she didn’t how to correct it.

How could she, if she didn’t even know that she had a problem like this until she was in a steady relationship? With a person whose whole sexual fulfillment consisted almost entirely of blowjobs?

In the moment, she just got overwhelmed with the dread of whatever future complication it would cause and gave in.

Simon hadn’t successfully turned her on since the first few months they started dating, and since then their sex life had been built on resurrection hope. At least for her. Since she’d made it her sole responsibility to turn herself on.

It’d been a month since Ethan’s unexpected visit and that was usually good for a few rounds— as long as Simon kept the talking to a minimum. But even that was starting to wear off earlier than usual.

There was nothing physically wrong with Simon. He was a good-looking guy with a good-sized dick. Tall, naturally muscular. A dragon tattoo on the inside of his arm.

But his selfishness in bed continued to take her breath away. She’d never talked to him about it beyond surface conversations. She simply didn’t know where to start.

Something to do with his upbringing, she was sure. His mother was a manservant to his father, and so was he and his two brothers. He said it had been traumatic, but she didn’t know why it took her so long to put it together that he never said he was going to do things differently. He’d been subconsciously waiting for his turn.

The moment he began caressing her shoulders—as she knelt in front of him on the pillow he’d so considerately put down for her knees—she felt her rage building.

She was in no mood to give him a pity blow, but he’d planned a romantic night in. He’d remembered her favorite food to order, and she wanted to be a good sport. But it still hadn’t made up for a year of pussy neglect, as much as she may have thought it was all water under the bridge. The pussy didn’t forgive. Or forget.

She felt his selfish hands lightly caressing her skin, his way of trying to do something nice. And yeah, if she were a newborn, maybe she would’ve appreciated it.

Instead, she froze mid-suck. When she froze, he did too.

Silence. He’d long stopped asking what was wrong if he didn’t absolutely have to.

He wanted her to keep going. She knew it, and she suspected that he knew that she knew it. She wanted to keep going because the sooner she did, the sooner it was over.

She started again on autopilot, varying her depth and speed.

The fingers on her skin came back.

Oh, dear God. Did he really think “back massage” was the way to go right now?

But it wasn’t even firm enough for that, was it?

Was he trying to choke her? She would’ve welcomed the effort, honestly.

“Can you please not touch me right now?” she asserted sweetly.

Silence.

“Oookay,” he responded in the semi-dark, clearly feeling emotionally assaulted.

She didn’t bother explaining herself, she just continued with the job. After a rocky start, she’d hit a rhythm that he seemed to be enjoying. His moans got more frequent, more urgent. Any minute now, I’m home free, she thought.

Suddenly he was bending over, reaching between her legs. And she nearly bit him. His dick vaulted out of her mouth.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m… trying to rub your clit?” Simon stuttered.

“I just said not to touch me, so I definitely don’t want that.”

“How am I not supposed to touch you anywhere?”

“Why are you even touching me at all?”

Simon looked confused. “Beg your pardon?”

“Are you touching me because you want to, or because you think it’s what I want?”

“I’m trying to turn you on.”

Like a blender? That’s not how it works, numbnuts.

“Okay, well, I’m trying to give you a blowjob.”

“I need more than just you sucking my dick,” he enlightened her, “I want to touch you too.”

Harmony was sure he thought he was being generous and sexy but all she heard was the fact that he couldn’t be content with a dick suck.

There was no possible way that he could actually be interested in her pleasure, since that required listening and concern for a separate person. There was simply no correlation.

Suddenly Harmony’s phone began ringing.

“Who the hell is that?” he wondered.

“I don’t know.” She went over to her phone on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed.

“It’s like 2 am,” he lectured.

“Hello?”

“Is this Harmony Hawthorne?”

“Yes?”

“This is Shawna over at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. I’m afraid there’s been an accident.”

Harmony sat up straight up as an arrow. “Oh no…”

Ethan.

She hadn’t even changed her name on her license, though that was illegal. If someone was calling her that wasn’t a government agency, addressing her by that last name, it couldn’t be about anyone else.

“What’s wrong?” Simon asked from the other end of the bed.

“Is it Ethan?” Harmony asked into the phone.

“Yes, ma’am. He was life-flighted here about an hour ago. Someone contacted the family, but it says here you’re his wife?”

Life-flighted??

“That’s correct. Is he okay?”

“He’s suffered some brain trauma and he’s in surgery right now to stitch up his leg, but everything looks good. He was thrown from the vehicle.”

“Holy shit.”

“He’s extremely lucky. We’ll need you to come down. He’s stable right now, but if anything changes we’ll need consent right away.”

“Of course. I’m on my way.”

Her world spun for a second, for reasons she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

In an instant, Ethan went from this bizarre complication on the fringes to the most important person in her life.

“What’s going on babe?”

What if he died? It seemed impossible. That anything would happen to him.

Would she inherit it all? Be paraded around as his widow and tied to this family forever?

She put a hand to her head with a sigh. “I gotta go to L.A.”

“What does he want now?”

“There’s been an accident. Ethan’s in surgery, I have to get down there before he wakes up,” she said from her bedroom closet.

She reached for the empty duffle bag on the top shelf, quietly picking a few things for a few days.

She didn’t know how long she would need to stay. She didn’t know how this was going to end but she needed to prepare, as much as she didn’t want to.

“Babe, not to be judgmental but you’re giving off serious Mammy vibes.”

“What?!”

“You’re hopping up in the middle of the night, in the middle of our lovemaking, to go care for some white people who have no relation to you whatsoever.”

Oh, if only you knew Simon.

“He’s got a traumatic brain injury for Christ’s sake, he could be a vegetable when he wakes up.”

“Well, I hope and pray that doesn’t happen. I’d never see you again,” Simon complained.

“Is this about me at all, or is this about you feeling like second fiddle?”

“Harmony, I don’t like it. I don’t like you leaping out of bed for some rich douchebag who’s never gonna look at you twice, no matter how many times you say yes to him.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re jealous of him,” she taunted him.

“I’d be stupid not to at this point.”

“Okay, so, maybe this is my fault for not making it clear when we got together that my relationship with the Hawthornes is complicated. But it does precede you, and will soon be coming to an end,” she said as she hiked her favorite pair of jeans up her thighs.

“Did they blackmail you? Some kind of weird Get Out type situation?”

Harmony let a stunned silence pass between them before responding.

“Okay, well. I’ll let you sit with that,” Harmony sighed diplomatically. “I gotta go.”

“Harmony, if you walk out that door, I don’t know if I’m gonna be here when you get back.”

“Simon, do what you gotta do, bruh. Seriously.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t think I could get more serious.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow. I got some driving to do so I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Don’t bother.”

Harmony packed up a few things and prepared for a road trip while Simon pretended to be asleep in their bed. Her bed.

She didn’t even whisper a goodbye as she closed the front door behind her and sighed. Damn. That was a bit too easy. But she couldn’t be worried about wasted time on a night like this.

She hopped in her newish Subaru Outback and started the 90-minute trek to LA. At nearly 3 in the morning the traffic-less highway shaved off another 25 minutes and she was back to that familiar county that felt eerie and Stepford. She’d only been a few times to see Ethan. His father had been the midpoint between them at Shady Acres where she worked. She got on the 10 and headed to Cedars-Sinai.

On the way, she got an unexpected phone call from Ethan’s mother.

She’d only spoken to Shannon Hawthorne a few times, but she had an unmistakable voice, at least to her. Upper crust, educated. Nearly trans-Atlantic. Smug. And it was all of those things. But it was also broken.

“Harmony?” her voice quivered.

“Mrs. Hawthorne.”

“It’s Ethan. There’s been an accident.”

“I know. The hospital called.”

“Did they?”

Harmony harbored a suspicious look in her car as she drove. “Yes… does that surprise you?”

“No, I just… didn’t know they had your contact information,” she explained.

“Well, I’m about 20 minutes away, are you there?”

“I am. He’s not quite out of surgery, so please hurry. In case something happens.”

“He’ll be fine, Shannon. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that dear, I think you know that.”

“I just mean I have a gut feeling. He’s gonna pull through.”

When Harmony finally arrived, there was a commotion just outside the doors.

An angry mob of men that looked to be greek or Arab, men of differing ages, with women holding them back uselessly with their arms were making a scene in the lobby.

In the middle of that was a solitary white woman dressed like it wasn’t three in the morning, wearing classic pearls, a yellow cardigan, and matching long capris with a chic silvery blonde bob.

It was Ethan’s mother Shannon and she was standing with the police or hospital security.

Whoever the other family was, they must’ve been richer than Ethan’s family, to allow them to even carry on in public this way.

“Doctor, she’s here! Oh, Thank God,” Shannon exclaimed, thankful to ignore the pressure-filled situation as she caught the eye of Harmony coming in. All eyeballs automatically turned towards her and she awkwardly glanced back as she pulled Shannon to the side closer to security.

“What’s going on?” Harmony asked.

“The Tamiroffs. Friends of ours, well… formerly now it seems. Ethan was inebriated. Or their son was, I don’t know. Maybe they both were. He was driving Ethan’s car when they crashed.”

“Oh my God, is he okay?”

“No, he is decidedly not okay,” she added, impatient. “He’s in the ICU.”

“Wait, who is? The driver or Ethan?”

“Mrs. Hawthorne,” a nurse interrupted them.

“Yes,” Shannon turned to her.

“Sorry…” she awkwardly continued, “are you the wife?”

“I am,” Harmony nodded, understanding. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, yes and no. There was some swelling in Ethan’s brain and the doctor thought it best to induce a coma to keep his vital signs steady while he fights infection.”

“Oh my God.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds,” Harmony filled in, all the while getting a sick feeling of her own.

“Correct. He’s stable right now.”

“Any idea how long it will take to get him out of the coma?”

“Could be days, could be weeks. We’ll see what his progress looks like tonight.”

“Oh, Ethan,” Shannon lamented dramatically. “If he wasn’t already in the hospital I would strangle him!”

“Is it okay to see him?” Harmony asked.

“Sure.”

“Go. I’ll wait for Ivy,” Shannon directed her.

Harmony followed the nurse down the hallway to a large glass-paneled room where she could see Ethan inside, lifeless and with his leg in a long white bandage.

Even though she knew he was lucky to even be alive, it pained her to see his surreal broken state. She stood there, staring and staring. The nurse opened the room door, signaling to follow her inside.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the nurse let herself out. Harmony sat down in the corner chair, the surreal beeps of the machine dotting the quiet. She sighed, shaking her head.

“What the fuck, Ethan,” Harmony whispered.

Eventually, she saw Ethan’s mother and newly arrived sister from the window slowly approaching the room. Their significant others lagged behind.

Ivy was Ethan’s blue-eyed sibling. She looked like Kate Winslet in every emotionally draining movie ever she played in. She looked a little more 3 am friendly, in a blue hoodie, sweats, bloodshot eyes, and her hair in a messy low ponytail.

As soon as Ethan came into view from the walkway Ivy stopped, turning stiffly and hiding her face into her mother’s shoulder.

Harmony frowned. She and Ethan were also twins. Fraternal. She couldn’t remember if Ivy was older or younger than Ethan. She determined that her reaction was that of an older sibling. Between twins, those minutes matter.

If Deja was ever in an accident, that would probably be Harmony’s exact reaction. She would have an overwhelming urge to trade places with her if it meant not seeing her lying there.

Ivy finally made her way inside, oblivious to Harmony’s presence. Her teary eyes slowly filled with what looked like a mix of horror and anger. But it was the sadness in them that made Harmony look away, feeling truly out of place.

She caught the eyes of Ivy’s nerdy chic husband, a venture capitalist that worked in the valley and the only other in-law in the room.

Shannon’s boyfriend Charles lived next door and grew up with the family. Charles’ new role in their mother’s life was still as messy and awkward as it was before their father died, and they always made sure he felt it when they were around. He stood dutifully outside, looking through the glass.

Ivy knelt opposite Harmony at Ethan’s side whether there was a chair waiting there for her or not. Ivy’s husband trailed behind, rushing a seat from the corner up to her butt so she could sit. She was doing everything Harmony expected his mother to do and it made the family picture all the more clear.

“Which room is Mr. Tamaroff’s?” Harmony heard Shannon asking the nurse.

“He’s in the ICU, ma’am, so he’s in a separate wing.”

“Very good. Keep them as far away as possible, for the time being,” Shannon directed to the nurse, as if she were the hospital czar.

“…We’ll do our best, ma’am,” the nurse politely told her, clearly used to people like Shannon but no better inclined toward them.

“How long did you plan on staying, dear?” Shannon turned to Harmony.

Harmony tilted her in decision. “I don’t know. I’ve got one meeting on Thursday. Figure I can at least hang around until then.”

“Well, that’ll be nice. You’ll keep us posted then, won’t you?”

Harmony froze with confusion. “I… where are you going?”

“Venice. We’re meeting some friends and then going to the film festival.”

“I see.”

When she saw that Harmony might be daring to judge her Shannon elaborated.

“Ethan was supposed to come as well, but of course, he had to make the worst possible choice at the worst possible time. Were it any other trip we would just cancel, but… we were all looking forward to it.”

“Right. But now your son is fighting for his life in a hospital.”

“Oh, spare me your outrage, Harmony,” Shannon campaigned, unprovoked. “I just lost my husband four years ago. Your patient and benefactor, I should add. No, we weren’t on the best of terms but he was my husband. I know he told you we were all bloodsucking monsters—”

“He didn’t.”

“But the way you took care of him for six months was the way I took care of him for thirty years. He was a manchild. Who was plenty paralyzed before the stroke, believe me. But I loved him. And now my little boy’s in a coma and I don’t want to be angry at him about it. I’d rather be angry at myself, and I don’t want to change my plans. I need to get away. Freshen up, come back.”

“Oddly enough, I understand,” Harmony replied as Ivy joined the conversation, looking tired.

“Good. Come along, Ivy.”

“I’m staying.”

“You’ll do no such thing. We need to go.”

“We can at least leave tomorrow night instead,” Ivy reasoned.

“The Tamiroffs are here, and they’re not happy.”

Ivy harbored that Hawthorne look of quiet horror. “You said he wasn’t driving!”

“It doesn’t matter. If Zed doesn’t make it, they’re going to be out for our blood.”

“Goddammit, Ethan!”

“Harmony’s agreed to stay a few days.”

Ivy finally acknowledged Harmony with a look of indifference, born out of fatigue. 
“If he dies while I’m not here, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Harmony, give Ivy your professional opinion.”

“Like, ‘bedside manner’ professional or ‘nurse to nurse’ professional?”

“The latter,” Ivy chose.

Harmony shrugged one shoulder with a far-off look, conjuring up a diagnosis. “The worst-case scenario isn’t death. It’s his brain being scrambled eggs when he wakes up. Or being kept alive by machines. But he probably won’t be dying.”

Ivy let out a heavy sigh of exasperation. This was hell. And it stretched out long and limitless.

“We could leave tomorrow night just in case, but I don’t think it will change anything,” Shannon offered.

“No, let’s just go. If Harmony’s here, he at least won’t be alone. I trust you’ll make sure he gets the best care,” Ivy deigned to ask for Harmony’s help.

“Of course. He’s lucky to come away with basically a busted-up leg.”

“Lucky? He’s in a fucking coma!”

“I’m just saying, he could be a lot worse. We won’t know until he wakes up, and that could be a long time from now.”

“Or never,” Ivy argued, the notion crumpling her face with emotion.

“He’ll pull through. I promise,” replied Harmony empathetically.

“One crisis at a time, dear. Why don’t you come stay with us tonight? We’re much closer than you are.”

“It’s an five extra minutes, Mother.”

“Still. Ermalinda can make you your favorite, she misses you terribly.”

“For the love of God, would you let that woman live her life.”

“Jerry gave her a boon when he passed, the least she could do is make you an eggy in the basket.”

After everyone left, Harmony made herself a bed with two chairs in the corner. She plugged up her phone to the charger and watched the lazy blue of the sky through the windows as the sun made another appearance.

She yawned. She’d spent years in hospitals but never knew what it felt like to be in the family’s shoes.

She turned her focus back to the man in the hospital bed. His right arm was eerily bruise and blemish-free, but that was the only part. It was suntanned and toned, the fine hairs on it beach blond.

It was already the longest she’d ever spent in a room with him, sadly. She looked beyond the bandages as best she could to his face. The purple bruising shone through the gauze. The ventilator splayed over his mouth, secured with tape.

He’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up, she thought. He’s going to demand an accounting of every responsible party. The hospital. The telephone pole. Gravity.

But he was gonna pull through. That much she knew.

She reached over and found his open hand with hers, feeling the soft puffy skin of his palm. She squeezed for the both of them and then gave it a soothing rub. An uncontrollable twitch surged through his hand and she smiled, looking back at his newly damaged face. Yeah, he was in there. Finding his way back.

She laid back and propped her feet up on the chair, prepared for an uncomfortable sleep.

Perfect Harmony is now available for pre-order exclusively on Amazon. Also in Kindle Unlimited!

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