by Nova Raines
I leave the room as she rolls over in my bed, and I suspect she’s not going to bother going back to her own.
Twenty minutes later, when I should be pulling up to the Platinum Planning office, I’m, instead, parked at the security gate of some ritzy housing complex. The guard approaches my window, and I’m not sure what to do next.
“Olivia Margot,” I say. “I’m here for an interview at 214 N. Holloway Court.”
This guy is inspecting me up and down, a smug grin forming on his face. He’s huge—I’m talking Incredible Hulk’s nephew huge. He’d tower about two feet over my five-two frame, and I imagine he has to be cautious when hugging his loved ones so as not to accidentally strangle them. His tan skin glistens from a layer of sweat, yet the heat doesn’t seem to faze him as he leans down by my window. I shrink into my seat.
“You must be here to see the old man then. He’s clearly got a type with you women…”
He’s not so subtle as he glances at my chest, and I suddenly remember the low cut dress. Wait. What? Does he think I’m here as a hooker or something? It’s midday…on a Monday. Who—?
I fumble to defend myself. “No. I—uh—that’s not. I’m here for something else. A real interview. For a job.”
His smile proves he doesn’t believe me, and he steps back from my car. “Have a good day, ma’am. Good luck with that job.”
He presses a button inside the little, brick guard station, and the massive gate, adorned with a big letter ‘S’, swings open. I try to slow my pulse as I follow the only road that leads the way in. Relax and pretend you’re going to the beach. Just focus on the scenery. The narrow road is lined with tall, meticulously pruned hedges, and beyond them, I can see the tops of palm trees and evergreens. There aren’t any houses or side roads or… This isn’t a neighborhood. It’s one person’s property.
The road—driveway—curves up ahead, and as I get closer I see the scene open up before me. A vast, green lawn seems to appear out of nowhere, and the driveway transitions from gray concrete to a mosaic of bricks and stones. It forms a loop at the end, winding its way around a marble fountain, putting on a water show for no audience. In the distance, the ocean meets the horizon. There’s nothing but blue out there, but even that secluded chunk of the world—from the depths of the water straight up into the sky above—doesn’t seem to compare to the massive mansion standing before me.
“Holy shit.”
I’d like to say I don’t end up driving three times around the fancy fountain, trying to figure out the appropriate place to park, but yeah, that’s me. I finally notice where the driveway extends to one side of the house, and I pull up behind the only other car I see. It’s a freshly waxed, black Lexus—a shiny onyx compared to the faded denim-color of my twenty-year-old Saturn. I get out of the car but can’t bring myself to take a step closer to the monstrous structure in front of me. Where am I? Whose house is this? Glancing at the screen of my phone, I have eight minutes to go. My nerves are still too unreliable to go inside early. I need to feel relaxed enough to know I won’t go in and vomit right in front of my interviewer.
It’s quiet out here with the peaceful sounds of the Pacific Ocean coming from the fucking backyard. The soothing rhythm of the crashing waves draws me to it, and I walk around the back corner of the house to see what, I assume, is a spectacular sight.
Like something out of a dream, the view is unimaginable. A stone patio leads to an infinity pool that appears to drop straight into the ocean. An iron, spiral staircase leads the way to a second level upstairs, and beyond that one, other similar balconies extend out the back of the house. I’m jealous of whoever gets to leave their room and immediately enter a paradise. I try to stay out of direct view of the enormous windows spanning the walls along the back of the mansion as I make my way closer to the far end of the pool. A short, hidden stairway brings you down to the beach level where these people seem to have this part of Mother Nature all to themselves.
I’d do anything to live in a place like this. I don’t need to even go inside. I’d be happy pitching a tent right there on the sand. Fall asleep to the whooshing sound of the water. Wake up to the salty, clean air of a new day…
There. Now I feel at ease, like I can handle today.
“Are you lost?”
I almost jump out of my skin as I whirl around to see who’s interrupted my moment of serenity.
One look at him, and I’m right back to square one. My throat catches, and I feel my palms clamming up.
This guy is unbelievably gorgeous. Tall, dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and he’s dressed like…like he belongs here. I sure as hell don’t, and I’m feeling that certainty increase by the second. If this is his house, then he figured out life long before me. I look around at this magnificent mansion and the beautiful man standing before me.
He’s holding a suit jacket, and the navy blue tie around his neck is loose and framing a white dress shirt, its top button undone. Please tell me this is my potential new boss. I’ll do my best not to screw up if I can just get a chance to work for this guy.
As inviting as he looks, he seems tense. Maybe even angry. His fist clenches a phone, and he pushes his loose hair away from his face. However it had been styled this morning, it’s disheveled now, like he just got done fighting with someone or having sex… A vulgar image flashes across my mind.
Him.
Me.
My back up against a wall.
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