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“We can take a walk down to the beach later, if you’d like.” Angel could come along, of course, but something inside me hoped she wouldn’t.
I took their bags in and showed them to the fourth floor.
“Where do you sleep?” Kensington asked when I showed her into the master bedroom and Angel to the companion suite.
“On the level above.”
“But your things are in here.” She pointed to the open door of the dressing room.
“My apologies. I’ll move them before you retire for the night.”
“That isn’t what I mean, Cortez. I don’t want you to give up your bedroom for me.”
I smiled and walked over to the windows. “You aren’t.”
Her forehead scrunched.
“I promise. Would you like to get settled now?”
“I’d rather you show me around, if you don’t mind.”
“You two go ahead,” Angel said, coming to the bedroom door. “I have some work to catch up on.”
We took the lift to the lowest level. Given it was unseasonably warm for December, I invited her to make use of the outdoor pool.
“Hello, Señor Cortez. Welcome home,” I heard Marta, my housekeeper, say. I walked over and embraced the woman I’d known since I was a teenager.
“Kensington, meet Marta. Should you need anything and I’m not available, Marta will help you find it.” I went on to explain that another guest was getting settled on the fourth floor and both women would be staying with me indefinitely.
I’d already made arrangements for additional household help. Since my parents would be spending the holidays in Madrid, the staff from their Mallorca residence would be available to assist Marta when needed.
Kensington commented favorably on each level of my home, but it was the solarium that she fell in love with, as had I.
“It’s breathtaking,” she said, marveling at the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree views. “What is that over there?” She pointed toward the chapel.
“Many of the historic properties on the island have private chapels.”
“Is that a cemetery?”
I nodded, not wanting to encourage questions about that particular part of the estate.
“This is where I sleep,” I said, showing her the place I considered my sanctuary.
“Oh. I see.” She smiled when I hit the switch that rolled up the floor-to-ceiling windows. “No wonder you don’t sleep below.”
I kept the fireplace cleaned and stacked with new wood, so I knelt down and lit it while Kensington peeked into the bathroom.
“You have the same layout,” I said when I saw her standing by the jetted tub.
“Does this open as well?” she asked.
I hit a switch, and instead of rolling into the ceiling, the window above the bath split in the middle and tucked into pockets in the walls on either side.
“No luxury spared,” she murmured.
“She belongs here,” said the woman who too often of late interrupted my thoughts.
I closed my eyes and rested my hand on the fireplace’s mantel. Stop it.
