Emily shook her head. “Nah. I already packed a book, so I should wait to see what the other shops have before I buy a second.”
Blair led them back out to the car.
“Off we go to the beach house! Who’s ready to live like the rich and famous?” Sienna said, starting the engine of the Maserati.
“Me!” Blair and Emily said in unison.
Sienna pulled out of the parking lot and put down the windows. The warm, salty air blew against their skin as they drove down the main drag, palm trees lining their way.
Sienna’s carcame to a halt outside a large, meticulously landscaped property with an iron gate. She leaned through the open window and punched in the code. With silent smoothness, the gate opened. They drove through, the gates closing behind them as they rounded the paved drive that was lined with beds of Japanese blueberry trees and purple muhly. Palms dotted a manicured yard of St. Augustine grass.
The mansion came into view—its white siding, deep wraparound balconies, and Bahama shutters made it look like something out of a magazine. Nestled along the Gulf, the sprawling estate had floor-to-ceiling windows facing a private beach and turquoise water. Emily could already imagine the feel of the golden sunsets on her face as she sat outside each evening.
Blair looked over at Emily as they got out of the car, her green eyes wide in astonishment.
“This is incredible,” Emily said, using a hand to shade her view of a private boardwalk leading directly to the beach and an infinity-edged pool that spilled seamlessly onto the horizon.
“I’d say so.” Blair pulled her bags from the trunk, her attention moving from the house to the beach and then back to the house.
“Perks of my job,” Sienna said with a laugh.
“You really can’t tell us who owns this house?” Blair asked.
“Sorry. Confidential.” Sienna pretended to zip her lips.
“I think it’s Luke Bryan’s,” Emily offered.
Blair pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips. “Mmm. I could see that. It kind of has Kenny Chesney vibes. Imagine a blue chair on the beach out back.”
Sienna rolled her eyes. “Guess all you want. I’m not telling and risking the best client of my career.” She air-zipped her lips again with two fingers.
Emily slipped the cooler strap onto her shoulder and grabbed her two suitcases. They hoisted their bags up the staircase to the double front doors, where Sienna typed in a second code and let them in.
Emily tipped up her head to view the vaulted wood-beamed ceilings. Then, she took in the white-oak floors as they made their way through the house. A soft, neutral color palette accented by shades of blue and turquoise complemented the natural textures that dotted the rooms. They entered the spacious kitchen. Emily set her handbag on the marble countertop, dropped the rest of her things onto the floor, and then unloaded the cooler’s contents into the fridge. When she’d finished, she went into the open, sunlit great room with only a double-sided fireplace separating the two spaces.
“Is this an elevator?” Blair said, punching a button on the wall next to a glass sliding door.
“Yep.” Sienna opened one of the French doors leading to the balcony, sending a breeze through the gauzy floor-to-ceiling curtains. “It also has a home theater and a wine cellar,” she said.
“Wine cellar? Could be the McGraws’ residence,” Blair said, looking around. “I could see them having a wine cellar.”
Sienna laughed.
“I feel relaxed already.” Blair pushed the button. When the doors opened, she stepped inside. She waved from the interior of the elevator, her bags at her feet.
Emily picked up her two suitcases and joined Blair. Sienna followed. The door slid shut, and they were whisked to the second floor where they stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the great room. They walked down the hallway, following Sienna’s map to the primary suites: private rooms, each with their own view of the Gulf.
“I’ll take this one.” Blair ran through one of the open-doors and fell onto the bed.
“Do you have a preference?” Emily waggled a finger between the other two open doors.
“You can have that one,” Sienna said, pointing to another extravagant room closest to Blair. “Let’s all take a dip in the pool once we’ve unpacked,” she called on her way to the third bedroom.
“Sounds good to me!” Blair called from her fluffy bed.
Emily took her bags into her room and set them against the wall. A king-sized bed full of throw pillows and a crisp white duvet was opposite a set of French doors with a view of the private beach through the glass. She unzipped her suitcase, opened it, and fished out her bikini, laying the two-piece on the bed. Then she gathered up her toiletries and took them into the en-suite bathroom—a spa-like room with marble tile, a freestanding tub with Jacuzzi jets and built-in seats, and a chandelier made of sea glass in the center.
Twisting a gold knob next to a set of matching bottles of bubble bath and hand soap, she turned on the water at the faucet, testing the stream until it ran warm. She splashed her face and dried it on a soft towel hanging beside the sink.
