Twenty-One
Weeks withoutword might drive a man insane, but no telling what Charles might do to Seb if Henri showed up while he was there. Why the hell had Seb gone back? If he’d gone back. Why the hell didn’t he at least call? Oh yeah, that whole “gotta save myself”thing. Martyrdom was highly overrated. Like patience.
Henri rented an inconspicuous economy car and paid a visit to the house he’d fallen in love with last summer. Christmas would soon be here. With six inches of new-fallen snow, the place would look awesome decked out in garland, a Christmas tree in the foyer.
And Seb, smiling, greeting Henri at the front door. Maybe in another lifetime.
Henri arrived midday and nearly turned around when he spotted other cars in the driveway, until he noticed a “Barclay Realty” sign on the door of one. Not good. The second vehicle, a late model Ford, didn’t appear to be the kind of car a man who flashed his money around would drive. After ten minutes the front door opened. Two women and a man stepped out. Henri unrolled his window far enough the eavesdrop on their conversation.
“Oh, it’s perfect! And those antiques! I know a shop that’ll pay top dollar.” The man and one woman bustled into their car.
Selling the house with Sebastian’s heirlooms inside? Oh fuck no! Charles had made good on his threats, but where the hell was Sebastian?
The remaining woman turned the collar of her coat up against the chill and picked her way through snow to Henri. He stepped out to meet her. “This house is for sale?”
She pulled back bright red lips into a predatory smile. “With the furnishings. You’d make a lot of money selling those off.”
“Why would I sell them off? Why not keep them in the house?”
The woman’s perfectly groomed eyebrows shot up to her cherry-red hair. “You’d keep the house?”
“What else would I do with a house if I bought it?”
“Do you have any idea how much this land is worth to a developer? The couple who just left plan to build a resort here.”
Tear down Sebastian’s house? The house his family had lived in for generations?
Over Henri’s dead body.
Henri dialed his manager’s number. Lucas had better damned answer.
He answered on the first ring. “What’s up, Henri?”
“We have a problem. There’s a house for sale in Evergreen, Colorado.” He paused long enough for Lucas to gasp. “A buyer wants to tear the house down and build a development. We’re not gonna let that happen, are we?”
If the bastard wouldn’t pull strings for himself, maybe he would for his son and his dead lover. “Nope,” Lucas answered. Oh yeah. Henri loved the pit-bull growl—as long as Lucas directed it at someone else.
“Do whatever it takes, but this house will have Sebastian Unger’s name on the deed. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Henri nodded at the Realtor. “Your phone number?” She dug in her purse and handed him a business card. “Call this nice realty lady and do what you have to.” Henri recited the number from the card.
He waited until her phone rang and she’d submerged herself neck-deep in negotiations, then walked away from the woman’s excited chatter. Time for some changes. If only he could convince Seb to accept the house. Oh hell. How could he do that if he couldn’t even find the man?
* * *
Anaheim. A-fucking-gain.The city of Henri’s nightmares. If only he wasn’t on tour and had time to focus more effort on finding Sebastian—without having to watch his back for crazy stalkers.
“A man called asking for you,” Arnulfo said after speaking with the hotel manager. “They didn’t confirm you had a reservation here.”
“Did they get a name?” Not that he remembered much about someone he’d only met briefly, in a darkened club, months ago. Stalker Boy hadn’t even given his name.
“Seb was all he said.”
Oh, thank God. “Arnulfo, Sebastian Unger is a very, very dear friend. I should have told you sooner, but if he ever shows up at a concert, bring him down front, and no matter where I’m staying, he gets full access to my room. Understand?”
Arnulfo cocked a brow and gave Henri his best cop look over the top of the mirrored shades he never seemed to be without. “Is it wise to let someone into your room while you’re not there?”
