Page 25 of The October Arrangement

A man who looked to be in his early sixties, tall, distinguished, wearing a dark suit beneath an expensive-looking overcoat, stood there, staring at me. The resemblance was uncanny. I was staring at an older version of Simon.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi.”

He glanced around the living room and noticed the autumn explosion I’d created on Simon’s coffee table.

“Am I in the right penthouse?” His brows furrowed.

“Yes.” I breathed out a laugh.

“Are you sure?”

“Uh, pretty sure.”

“And you are?” He continued to stare at me.

“Bella Castle.”

“And why are you in my son’s penthouse, Bella Castle?”

“You’re Simon’s father?” I asked.

“I am. William Montclair.” He extended his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you.” I placed my hand in his.

“Where is my son?” He looked around.

“He left for work about an hour ago. He said something about a client meeting.”

“Damn. I was hoping to catch him before he left.” His gaze returned to the coffee table. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Working.” I smiled.

He looked at Harold and then back at me. “You’re photographing a pumpkin?”

“Part of my job.” I nervously laughed.

“My son allows you to do that in his home?”

I bobbed my head back and forth. “He hates it. But I’ll make sure it’s all cleaned up before he gets home.”

His brows furrowed. “Are you staying here?”

“Yeah. Just for the month of October.”

“Hold on.” He raised his hand. “Simon is letting you stay in his penthouse, with him, for the month?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “There’s a story behind it.”

“I figured there would be. I want to hear it.”

“Your niece, Daisy, is a friend of mine from college. She told me Simon was on a three-month trip and that I could stay here while I was in New York for work.”

“Daisy gave you Simon’s penthouse?”

“She offered me one of his guest rooms.”