“I’d enjoy it more if you told me where we were going.” I huff.
“So impatient.”
We walk the short distance to the car, hop in, and soon we are on the freeway heading west. “Are we going to see my parents?”
“Nope.”
“If we just end up at the bar, I’m really gonna be disappointed.”
His deep laughter fills the air, and I sit back to watch the LA jungle give way to mountains, sand, and sea. We pass the bar and my parents’ house and just keep driving.
“So we’re just going all the way to San Diego, then?”
He just keeps driving.
Jerk.
My mind has gone on all kinds of wild tangents by the time he pulls off Highway 1. Are we visiting a former classmate? No, he doesn’t care about anyone from high school. Maybe we’re meeting an investor? No. He wouldn’t take me along for something like that, would he? And if he would, I sure hope he gives me a heads-up so I can wear something other than jeans and a cropped tee.
The driveway we pull into is circular. Private. The once well-manicured landscaping is now overgrown with weeds and bottlebrush. The house itself is in decent shape. The slate tile roof and white stucco exterior have seen better days, but it’s obvious someone put a lot of thought into its design.
“Whose house is this?”
He palms the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside, okay?”
Why does he look nervous all of a sudden?
“All right.”
I unbuckle my seat belt and step out of the car. The smell of saltwater feels like a warm hug, and I can’t help but smile. Some people love the mountains or the desert, but my soul will always belong to the ocean.
He joins me by the hood of the car, taking my hand. “You’re being weird,” I tell him.
“I know.”
Well, at least he’s aware of it. We walk up the walkway. There are more overgrown plants and dead flowers in the planters. “Do the people who own this house know we’re here?”
A smile plays on his lips. “They know.”
Vague much? “All right.”
We walk up to the door. Just as I’m about to ring the doorbell, Hollis turns to me. He has that same nervous energy about him. He opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted by the sound of clacking heels on pavement. “Sorry I’m late! Traffic was a bitch.”
I turn to see a tall brunette rushing toward us. She’s wearing wide-leg jeans, an oversized tee, and carrying a large manila folder.
“That’s all right,” Hollis says. “We just got here.”
“Oh, good,” she says, a bit winded. She offers her hand to Hollis, then introduces herself to me as Lara.
I still have no idea what Lara is doing here.
“Thanks for doing all this last minute. I know it was…stressful.”
She waves her hand. “Nonsense. I’m used to this from my high-profile clients.”
High-profile what? I stare at the two of them, waiting for someone to explain. Of course, no one does.
“Right. Well, let me just grab the code for the lockbox…”
