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“The hotel is not on my list of instructions from Mr. Sparks.”
“What? I have it on my list.”
He smiled at me through the rearview mirror. “The plan changed.”
I gaped back at him. “Why?”
“Mr. Sparks didn’t say. He directed me to take you to his estate.”
“What? No. No way.” I looked at my wristwatch, as if checking the time would give me any information.What in the world is going on?“We didn’t discuss this, and I’m not supposed to meet him until tomorrow morning.”
“He’s at home today.”
“So?”
“I’m only following orders, ma’am.”
“Well, I just got off the plane. I think we should head to the hotel.”
Mauricio raised his free hand. “I’m sorry, I have to follow the directions.”
The flat, determined expression on Mauricio’s face told me he wasn’t going to head back, and it was futile to argue with him anymore. Still annoyed at the change, I asked how long it would take to get to Landon’s place. When he indicated we still had a few minutes, I pulled the quilted makeup bag from the tote bag I’d set on the car floor. I’d never been someone to wear a lot of cosmetics, but a refresh of powder and a slash of lip gloss went a long way toward making me feel marginally refreshed from the travel. I also popped two mints into my mouth and pulled my messy hair into a soft French twist. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better.
By the time we arrived at Landon’s estate, I’d worked out several excuses for not allowing the interview to start that afternoon, not the least of which included the fact I wanted to make sure I was refreshed and ready.
“Here we are.”
Mauricio drove onto an ostentatious granite driveway grouted in Astroturf that gave the entry to Landon’s estate the look of a checkerboard at a resort. He pulled the car past a large fountain and through an archway of meticulously pruned purple bougainvillea. Behind it lay the main house, a large contemporary Caribbean painted crisp white and offset by large banks of windows. I gasped at the size of it. This house could have been part of a glossy magazine spread or high fashion ad campaign.
“Impressive.”
I knew the home was huge, and it was quintessentially Palm Beach, but there was a drastic difference between seeing something online and seeing it in person. In person, this was different. It was massive.
“Mr. Sparks is proud of this home.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Mauricio parked the car outside a detached three-car garage. “He’s said many times it’s his dream home.”
“I can see why.”
Mauricio got out of the car and sprinted to my side to let me out. I was still taking in the house, and as I did, noticed the large infinity pool, a view of the ocean on two sides of the property, a tennis court, private pool house, and patio made for entertaining hundreds of guests at whatever party Landon chose to throw.
It was beautiful. Elegant. And in many ways, perverse.
“A house built for someone who thinks he’s master of the universe,” I mused to Mauricio.
“What makes you say that?”
“Look at the size of it.” I tried to calculate the square footage in my head and failed to come up with a number. “He’s the only one who lives here, right? Maybe he’s making up for something?”
The driver shut the door. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
As soon as Mauricio spoke, a side door to the house opened and a man I instantly recognized as Landon stepped through the threshold and out onto the granite driveway. He strode toward me with a confidence I could almost smell, a broad-shouldered but lean man with short dark hair and an easy tan, dressed in a white button-down shirt, a pair of khaki trousers, boat shoes, and a pair of aviator sunglasses obscuring his eyes.
Oh my God.
I wanted—needed—to brace myself, but there was nothing to hold on to. Instead, I curled my toes in my flats and willed my body to stay rooted to the ground. Good grief, why did Landon Sparks have to be so undeniably gorgeous?Wow.This was already not going the way I wanted; I hated being on the defensive, and there was something about this entire setup that told me I was already there. But maybe that had been the case ever since I’d agreed to do this profile for the newsletter.
