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“I didn’t think about it.” When had she ever had to wonder if she could share space before? When had she ever had the choice?
“No rush!” Jacqui sang. “You can decide whenever. And you can change your mind. This’ll be your house, too.”
Megan’s mouth dropped open. “Is it?” she said before she could stop herself.
“That was Alessandro’s instruction, yes. If you want anything changed, he said, we have to make it happen.”
“I…” Jacqui was leading her up a set of white open stairs to a reading nook that had another view over the front of the house. She thought she could see the skyscrapers they’d driven past. So far from the hustle of everyone’s life. Of course Alessandro had picked this. “I can’t think of a single thing.”
“Well, let me know. Here’s the elevator.” An elevator in this small house?! Yes, there it was, near the stairs, connecting the garage to both floors. Then Jacqui opened the door to a suite that covered the entire second floor. A bed faced another set of windows, with a broad deck outside. Glass walls allowed the full view to be seen from the bed. Two club chairs sat at the end of the bed, with a low table between them, perhaps for a cup of coffee as you watched the sunrise. Or sunset. Whatever direction they were facing now.
“The bathroom’s through here, and here’s the closet,” Jacqui finished, but Megan was opening the door to the deck and breathing in the fresh air.
“Yeah,” she said. “I think I’ll be okay.”
♦
When she’d finally assured Jacqui that she didn’t need a private chef to come and make her a sandwich nor a maid to run her a bath nor a dermatologist to derm-abrade the travel schmutz from her face—though she would revisit that masseuse idea some other time—Megan finally got the younger woman to leave. Steve, to whom she made a point of introducing herself before he disappeared, told her to text him as soon as she wanted to go anywhere. Her. Alessandro had another driver, another car.
Megan took a shower, texted Kane that she’d arrived safely, made herself a charcuterie board with some of the contents of the refrigerator, and sat outside in shorts and a T-shirt, her feet in the blissful cool water. Birds chirped, the sun began to dip behind the trees, and far, far away, someone was playing Latin dance music.
When she woke up, it was because Alessandro was leaning over her. “Ciao,” he said.
“What time is it?” she asked, blinking at him. Darkness had fallen. At some point she’d moved herself from the side of the pool to a lounge chair. “I must have slept for hours.”
“Perhaps,” he said with a heartbreaking smile. “You might not sleep well tonight.”
Megan looked at him, feeling as though she’d only now realized how beautiful he was. “That’s okay,” she said, reaching up for him. “I had other plans for tonight anyway.”
♦
“So how was your interview?” she asked much later. They were in the master bedroom, tangled up in the sheets on the floor, drinking wine and leaning against the club chairs.
“It went well. Then we went to Jimmy Kimmel. You can watch that one in—” He looked around him, but his phone had been left with his clothes somewhere on their way up the stairs. “A little while, I think.”
Megan crawled away from him, around the corner to a bedside table where she’d seen a remote for the TV nestled into the bookshelves. Alessandro did a Roy Kent growl as her butt left his view.
He wanted to shout at Yasmin for making him leave Megan alone on her first trip to town. He didn’t count the conferences, which sounded as though they’d kept her inside hotel rooms the entire time. Hours he’d had to be away, hours where anything could have happened to send her right back to Boston.
The TV clicked on, and she took them to the guide so they could see the time. “We have an hour,” she said.
“Come back here,” he begged. She did so, and he wrapped his arms around her naked body, loving her softness and the way she sank into him—come to think of it, the way he’d sunk into her. He adjusted his seat, and Megan gave him a wicked grin.
“I’m hungry,” she said.
“Did Jacqui fill the refrigerator?”
“Yes. Enough food to feed my family and yours and everyone else in this neighborhood.”
He froze for a second. She’d saidfamilyso easily. Because of course everyone had family.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I shouldn’t have brought them up.”
“It’s no big deal,” he said. The phrase sounded strange in his accent.
“No, I don’t want to make you think of anything sad. Not tonight.”
“I am not thinking of anything sad.” He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “Nothing at all.”
