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Oh, God, how did he ever have anything to do with this woman? She’s a complainer, but maybe he just tuned her out. I’m like that a lot. I get to thinking about one thing, like a class that teaches younger people how to keep their finances in order and track how much of their money they’re spending on things like eating out. A balanced budget is more critical today with the price of housing and food.
I blink when Sienna starts pounding on the door. I realize she’s been losing it on the other side of the door while I was thinking about the class. I would ignore her, but if the LOLs haven’t seen her yet, they will, and then it will get blown out of proportion.
I open the door causing her to stumble back.
“You bellowed?”
“What?”
“Is there a reason you keep knocking on my door?”
Her blue eyes cloud over with confusion as she stares at me. I don’t know if she is confused by my words or has never had anyone be rude to her.
“I thought this was Jon’s house.”
“It’s not. It’s Estella’s.”
“That’s an odd name.”
I blink. Had Jon never told this woman about his grandmother or introduced her? There’s no way she had been in town and Estella had not met her. Maybe she’s an airhead. I know most people think that models are stupid. Don’t get me wrong, some are not that bright, but the ones I worked with were actually bright. They saw themselves as businesswomen, and they understood the business of modeling more than many CEOs know their own business.
“I’m not Estella. I’m renting the house. And you are?”
I know who she is. I’ve been obsessing about her all day. I know. It’s so unhealthy, and while I know that kiss means nothing, it irritates me this woman has shown up looking so tall and pretty.
“I…you don’t know who I am?”
I shake my head and try not to smile. Irritation colors her expression,
“I’m Sienna,” she announces with a toss of her head. Her curls ripple over her shoulder. Damn, she’s good.
“Just that? Sienna? Like Madonna or Cher? I guess it’s not like The Weekend. Do you go by The Sienna?”
She blinks. I bet she’s deciding if she should start going by The Sienna. Inwardly, I roll my eyes.
“I’m here to talk to Jon.”
“Jon?”
“Jon Howard.”
Pursing my lips, I pretend to think.
“I know he’s in there,” she says, pushing past me. I shake my head and roll my eyes for real.
I see that Benjamin and Meredith are sitting on the bottom stair. Their expressions tell me they are not happy with Sienna.
“I know. She’s rude.”
“Who are you talking to?”
I glance at her. “Meredith and Benjamin.”
She looks down at my precious babies with disdain, then back up at me. “Where is Jon?”
“Probably having dinner with his grandma, according to the Juniper Springs Express.”
“The what?”
