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He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but I can see the wheels churning in his head. I have to pinch myself to ensure I am not dreaming. David Kinney next to me . . . having dinner! It used to be a daydream of mine.
Not that I’d let him know it in a million years, of course.
“It’s personal,” he finally says.
“OK.” Sometimes you can’t push too hard, but I’ll bide my time. I’m a reporter after all.
We make small talk for the rest of dinner. I ask him what he does, and he tells me he’s a businessman. Like, duh. He asks me what I do, and I tell him I work at an office. Well, I do.
I find myself relaxing with him. Letting my guard down. And I think he’s relaxing with me too. He’s probably thinking I’m not the ditzy blonde I appear to be, and that I don’t have fangs.
I don’t talk about movies.
Dinner is over before either of us is aware of it. I have eaten more than my calorie ration for the day, and I notice he has barely touched his dessert.
“You must be tired,” he says solicitously.
“I’m not actually.” I want to stay here with him and talk some more. Then I remember I’m supposed to be in convalescence.
“Oh yes.” I fake a yawn. “I’ve been a little tired after the concussion.”
“Jeffrey has already seen to your car. He had it lifted and towed to the Avis workshop in Aberdeen.”
I’m surprised. But then, I shouldn’t be, right? Jeffrey is Mr. All-Fix it.
“Thank you,” I say.
“No problem. It’s under insurance, as you say, and it’s already been paid for under the Avis clause you signed.” He gets up. “I’ll turn in myself. It has been a long day. Would you like Jeffrey to see you to your room, Virginia?”
I like the way he says my name. Vir-gi-nia. So pronounced and enunciated, as if it were a precious jewel on his tongue.
I would like you to see me to my room, Ethan Greene.
“No thank you,” I say, feigning tiredness. “I can go up myself.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow then.” His eyes arrest mine like a promise.
A thrill shimmies down my backbone.
“I’ll see you. Goodnight,” I say.
“Goodnight.”
As I exit the dining room, I’m aware of his scorching gaze boring holes into the back of my head. But I don’t feel creeped out.
If anything, I’m more excited than ever.
8
I wake up the next morning, unrefreshed. I have been tossing and turning all night in my bed, half-thinking and half-dreaming about Ethan Greene. He is certainly like nothing I expected.
He’s better.
He’s more sophisticated, more dignified, and yet . . . melancholy surrounds him like a shroud. He’s shy, and it’s a quality I find endearing.
I rake my brains through all the interviews I have seen or read on him. He was certainly nothing like this. He never talked much in interviews, preferring to let his work speak for itself. But when he gave them, I remember him as polite but guarded. Maybe a little standoffish, especially with the paparazzi.
But Ethan Greene is an absolute dreamboat. He’s almost like a character David Kinney could have been playing in some romantic comedy, except that David Kinney never made romantic comedies. The characters were not tortured enough for him.
However, he did make doomed romances. Unusual romances.
Obsessive ones.
I wash up, wondering what Ethan Greene is up to today. I put on a V-necked sweater and jeans. My head wound is healing, but the area around it has gone purple. Once again, I arrange my hair to fall in a major wave over it.
I go down to find Ethan Greene. My body bristles with anticipation. For some reason, he affects me more than I thought possible. I want to see him again. I want to be in his company for hours and hours.
I bump into Jeffrey.
“Good morning, Ms. Tremont.”
“Good morning, Jeffrey. Is Ethan up and about?”
“Indeed. He’s out in the back.” Jeffrey points to the open doors leading to a back patio.
I haven’t explored the outside of the house.
Ethan is nowhere to be found on the patio, which opens to a sprawling grassland, bordered by trees and shrubs. This place must be a bitch to maintain.
I wander a little distance, wishing I had brought my walking shoes. I avoid the nettles and uneven hillocks on the ground. I walk beyond the first row of trees and enter a dense tangle. Where is Ethan? I will be doomed to wander around here, never to find him. I had no idea this place was so huge.
Glorious light filters through the trees. I go towards the shine, and I’m rewarded as the scene opens out to a breathtaking vista of a valley amidst hills. The valley is lush with vegetation and scalloped by a bubbling stream a hundred feet below. I wonder if this is the ravine I fell into.
