Poppy Harmon and the Pillow Talk Killer, Lee Hollis [ebook reader 7 inch txt] 📗

follow him and start unpacking that box for me, please? I need to talk to Heather.”

“Of course,” Violet said, and then with a wink, added, “Iris may like the young ones, but that Hymie is more my type, big, rugged, older, calloused hands, a real man’s man.”

Then she eagerly scampered off after him.

Poppy answered her daughter’s call. “Hello, darling, how’s New York?”

“Cold,” Heather said. “And I’m not used to the noise outside my window all night long, constantly.”

“You’ll get used to it once you’re settled,” Poppy promised, having lived in Manhattan briefly when she was a young actress just starting out and fancied herself a budding Broadway star. That lasted about five months before she moved to Hollywood to make her mark in movies.

“Classes start tomorrow, and I’m really nervous about it. I’ll probably be the oldest one there,” Heather said.

“So what? Age is just a number. Believe me, I should know.”

After her release following a stint in prison, Poppy’s troubled daughter had bounced around, trying to figure out the best way to rebuild her life. Her time behind bars had keenly illustrated the pitfalls of the justice system, and so it was from this empathetic understanding of what people like her have to go through that Heather decided to try to become a lawyer. She knew it would be an uphill battle, given her record and the fact that she wasn’t some hotshot college graduate with a 4.2 GPA and high-powered contacts ready to pull a few strings. She was totally on her own. But Heather studied hard, and got rejected by nine schools before NYU Law finally accepted her based on a moving essay she had written about her own legal troubles and road to redemption. One of the admissions officer had copped to crying when he read it. He had told Heather the system needed more advocates like her, and he was happy to help find her a place at the school.

After a flurry of loan applications and much needed pep talks from her mother, Heather had finally packed her bags and flown east to begin a new life on her own.

But her mother wasn’t the only one she was leaving behind.

Matt had dated Heather long before Poppy recruited him to be the face of her Desert Flowers Detective Agency, to play the estimable pretend owner Matt Flowers. And when Heather was arrested and convicted of a crime and sentenced to a year and a half in prison, he had stuck by her, determined to weather the storm, which he did admirably. They had even continued the relationship after her release, but Heather had fundamentally changed. She was lost and unfulfilled, and only when she was accepted into law school did she finally start to rebound. And when she announced she would be moving to New York, there was no invitation forthcoming for Matt to join her.

Matt had insisted they stay together and try the long-distance thing. Heather agreed to give it a go, but was far from optimistic. It appeared to Poppy that she was humoring him, not wanting to hurt him, until she was gone and could set up her new life in Manhattan.

“Are you moved into your new place yet?” Heather asked.

“In the process.”

“Violet e-mailed me photos. It looks beautiful. I, however, am residing in a teeny tiny studio way up in Washington Heights, with a screaming baby in the apartment next door and a forty-five-minute subway ride to school, but it’s a start and I’m not going to complain.”

Poppy debated whether or not she should inquire, but ultimately couldn’t help herself. “Have you spoken to Matt?”

There was a pause.

“He’s left a few messages, but I’ve been way too busy to call him back yet. I’ll probably reach out later tonight.”

“Heather, I hope you’re not stringing him along, you know how he feels about you. . . .”

“Yes, Mother, I know,” Heather sighed. “I’m still trying to figure it all out.”

Heather had wondered aloud many times before she left Palm Springs whether the risks and challenges of a long-distance relationship outweighed the rewards. And she had come no closer to making a final decision when she stepped onto the JetBlue plane at the Palm Springs Airport that was going to fly her directly to New York.

“I’d just hate to see him get hurt,” Poppy muttered.

“I’m your daughter, Mother, you’re supposed to be on my side, not Matt’s.”

“Yes, of course I know that. You need to do what’s best for you right now. It’s just that I’ve grown rather fond of him. No one is more surprised by that than I am, and sometimes I feel protective of him—”

“Matt will be fine, no matter what I decide,” Heather said. “Listen, I have to go. I have a big day tomorrow.”

“Good luck, darling!”

“Thank you, Mother,” Heather said quickly before ending the call, almost sounding relieved the conversation was finally over.

“How is she?”

Surprised by the voice so close behind her, Poppy spun around to see Iris standing there while inspecting the two young movers, who were now attempting to carry a large oak dresser out of the back of the truck and across the lawn.

“It’s a big change, but she’ll adjust. Heather is very adaptable,” Poppy said.

“That’s it, boys, slow down, this is not a race, be careful, I don’t want to see any nicks or scratches after you get it inside, do you hear me?” Iris warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” one the young men said as they hauled the piece toward the open front door of the house.

“I’m right behind you,” Iris said before turning back to Poppy. “Has she dumped Matt yet?”

“What? No!”

“Not yet, you mean.”

“Iris, we shouldn’t write them off just because—”

“Just because Matt is here and Heather is three thousand miles away for the foreseeable future? Of course the relationship is going to end. It is for the best.”

“I understand that, but Matt—”

“Matt is an adult. He will get over it,” Iris said matter-of-factly. “Heather is starting a whole new life and it is best