“Damon,” I breathe.
2
Amanda
“Amanda.”
He breathes out my name as if all the air has left him.
He’s shocked. And so am I.
Oddly enough, it stings a little that he doesn’t call me Mandy, but I’m not surprised. With the way we ended, I should be grateful he isn’t calling meBitch.There may be a slight smile on his lips, but his eyes are fierce and guarded.
He’s not happy—that’s for sure.
“Margot and Stirling are one thing, butyouare the last person I expected to see standing in my foyer tonight. Blind rentals leave a lot to be desired.”
“Wait, youlivehere?” Even though I knew the answer to this question the instant I saw his face, I ask it aloud anyway.
“Yes, Amanda, I do.”
I’m at a complete loss for words. It’s all I can do to drink in the sight of him. He’s tall, but solid, and I have no trouble remembering what his lean body is like underneath the black slacks and grey lightweight turtleneck he’s wearing. His sun-bleached hair is an even lighter shade of brown than the last time I saw him. And his eyes, though darkened with anger, still have glimpses of the kindness I used to love. I could lose myself in them.
“Good grief, come inside,” says Stirling. “Not that you need an invitation, it’s your house. But we don’t need to have this discussion with you standing on your own front porch.”
“Thank you,” says Damon, as he steps inside. Margot closes the door hesitantly, as if she’s hoping he won’t stay long. “Unfortunately, my… travel circumstances have changed. My trip is actually cancelled, indefinitely. So, I need to move back into the house. The rental contract states that I can return to the premises any time; I’m not trying to be a hardass about this but I—”
“Now just a minute, Damon.”
Oh God. It’s pretty hard to ruffle Margot’s feathers, but I know she’s been looking forward to this getaway for a long time, and if Damon is about to get in the way of that, no matter his reasons, this could become even more of a nightmare than it already is.
“It’s because of me, Margot. If I weren’t here, this wouldn’t be such an issue.”
I look at Damon with as much humility as I can muster. His eyes hold none of the warmth of years before, and his return gaze cuts me to my core. I want to make this right for my sister and her family. At the same time, I just want to fucking disappear.
“Would you at least like a drink, Damon?” offers Stirling. “You must be tired, and you do keep an incredible selection in your bar. I’m sure we can settle this if we all just take a breath.”
“What I was about to say,” says Damon with one last icy glare at me before he turns to Stirling, “is that, since the third floor is off limits to guests, I can stay up there for however long it takes me to regroup and plan the remainder of my summer. The third floor is my studio—it’s self-sufficient, and I’ve lived up there for days at a time when I’m deep into work. Once I stock my kitchenette and do some laundry tomorrow, you’ll barely know I’m there, and I can use the side outside stairs for direct access.”
“Well, that sounds perfectly reasonable, don’t you think, honey?” says Stirling, with a nervous glance at Margot.
“I—sure. I guess it beats having to cancel our plans and go back to Los Angeles,” says Margot.
Just when I think I might be able to actually breathe again, and that things couldn’t possibly get worse, Sylvia appears at the top of the stairs.
“Hey,” she says. “What’s going on?
I haven’t seen Sylvia since her high school graduation back in the spring. After that, she spent the summer abroad with one of her friends whose family was traveling in the Mediterranean. My jaw drops when I look at her. The teenager I knew a few months ago has disappeared and a woman has taken her place. Sylvia is nineteen looking nothing short of twenty-five. And a very sophisticated twenty-five at that. And she’s looking at Damon like the quart of ice cream Margot pulled out of the freezer—like she wants to lick up every drop of him. What’s even worse is that Damon’s jaw is practically on the floor too. I suddenly find my voice again.
“Oh, hey, Sylvia,” I say cheerfully. “Damon, this is my step-niece. She’s just finished her first semester at college.”
I’m being obvious, but I don’t care. Sylvia may be my sister’s stepdaughter, but I don’t trust her. Not looking the way she does. She’s legally an adult, and technically not off limits to Damon. And since she can’t be with her own boyfriend, I wouldn’t put it past her to throw herself at him. I don’t really know him anymore, and the look on his face right now tells me he wouldn’t mind too much if she did.
“Hi, Sylvia. I’m Damon.” He holds his hand out for her to shake as she descends the staircase like a cat to a bowl of cream, and for once I wish he wouldn’t be so damned polite. “And as crazy as it sounds, this is my house.”
“Wow. Well it’s beautiful. You have great taste. Why’d you come back home?”
“Thank you. My trip was cancelled, long story.”
