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“I know it’s awfully early, but do you mind if I go to bed? I’m positively knackered and I’m still fighting off the Klonopin.” He always took something to fly when he was alone. When we travelled together, he rarely did. I think it was because he felt guilty, feeling better when I wouldn’t sedate myself.
I sat up and kissed his cheek. “I wouldn’t mind at all. I’ll even come snuggle you to sleep.”
We went to the bedroom, where Neil groaned in ecstasy the moment he settled onto his pillow. “This is exactly what I need.”
I slipped out of my jeans and bra and slid in beside him, and he reached for me, pulling me into the circle of his arms. I wriggled back, fitting my hips with his, letting his body envelop me.
“Well, almost exactly,” he whispered against my ear.
I hugged his arm tighter over my waist. “You said you had a change of perspective. What was that about?”
“I promise, we’ll talk about that tomorrow,” he yawned. “After we look at the house.”
Damn. That change in perspective was what I’d wanted to hear the most about.
* * * *
The next night, Tony the chauffeur drove me to meet Neil at the New York offices of Elwood & Stern. I’d hoped I’d get a chance to see Neil’s office, but the stars never seemed to align on that one, and tonight was no exception. From Elwood & Stern, we drove a few blocks to a building with a helipad, where our chartered helicopter was waiting.
In phobic terms, airplanes had nothing on helicopters where Neil was concerned. Oddly, the short flight didn’t bother me; the windows were huge, compared to the ones on the jet, so I didn’t feel quite so boxed in. But it was a little hard to get excited about the incredible airborne views when Neil was crushing my hand like a vise.
I spent most of the flight mentally preparing myself for what was in store. I knew we wouldn’t be looking at a four-bedroom cape cod. From the few details Neil had fed me—carefully doled out, I believed, to keep me from calling off the entire thing—the place had massive acreage. The terms “compound” and “grounds” had been used.
“Is that it?” I asked the pilot over the intercom. Being in an executive helicopter was way different than the tourist helicopter that had taken my mom and me up at the fair. It was more like a car than I’d expected.
“Yes, ma’am, directly below us,” the pilot responded.
I leaned my forehead against the window and gazed down, conscious of Neil’s arm slipping protectively across my waist, as though I’d tumble out to my doom. I spotted a massive, well-lit building, the size of which could only be compared to the visitor center in Jurassic Park. A wide, sweeping crescent of pavement made an illuminated path up to the building, winding away and forking off toward other areas of the “compound.”
Compound. We might as well have built a bunker while we were at it.
The pilot set the helicopter down and shut off the engines. Tom, the agent, stood waiting for us in a neatly pressed suit that was almost as nice as Neil’s. Hampton properties sales must net a pretty good commission.
“Mr. Elwood, Mrs. Elwood, I am thrilled to show you this property,” he exclaimed by way of greeting. He took Neil’s hand and shook it, then mine.
“Ms. Scaife,” I corrected him with a smile. “But don’t worry about it.”
It was good practice for after we married. I didn’t plan to change my name, and I was sure this wouldn’t be last time I’d be erroneously called “Mrs. Elwood.”
“The helipad is awfully far from the house,” Neil observed as we stepped into the waiting car.
He was right. It was awfully far from the house. I couldn’t even see a house. I couldn’t see anything but grass and stars. It was a nice change, just like the crisp, country air was a nice change from the smell of asphalt and garbage in the city.
But I’d made so much fun of people on House Hunters that I wasn’t about to complain about something like the helipad is awfully far from the house.
Neil gave me the front passenger seat, and Tom drove us up the long slope.
“And the other way goes out to the road?” I asked, peering out the back window.
“Oh, Sophie, look,” Neil said, breathless with wonder.
I turned, and I saw it.
The first thing that struck me was that there was so, so much house. It seemed to stretch endlessly across the crest of the hill. The main section was two stories, but the gables at the ends made it seem much taller. At one end, a tower with an open-air cupola had been added, clearly newer construction. Every light in the place was on, and the number of windows was overwhelming. I counted eight chimneys cutting tall rectangles out of the starry night sky.
The agent took advantage of our awe to launch into technical specifications. “The main house is thirty-five-thousand square feet. Ten bedrooms, nine baths—one jack-and-jill—three half-baths—”
“Wait, wait,” Neil shushed him urgently. “Whatever it is you’re saying will not sink in for either of us right now.”
