to her about me, but then again, Nancy is a sweetheart. Patty’s voice sounds just as warm and grandmotherly, easing my worry about Gavin slightly.
“How’s she doing?”
“Much better. It was a fast and furious bug. She’s finally coming out of the fever and the delirium, which is good. It will probably be a few more days before she’s back at work, I’m afraid.”
“No problem. I can hold down the fort until she’s back.”
“Wonderful, dear. I’ll tell her you called,” Patty says, and I can tell she’s about to hang up.
“Actually, I have one more question,” I say quickly. “I’m, um, concerned about our boss.”
“Gavin?” Patty sounds alarmed.
“Yes, Gavin. He was acting strangely, then sent me a text that didn’t make sense, and now won’t answer his phone. I’m wondering if he might have picked up the virus. I don’t know if he has family or friends who could go check on him or—”
“Oh, no. Gavin doesn’t have family. I would go if I didn’t have to stay with Nancy. I don’t suppose you could go? He doesn’t have anyone else, you know.” She clucks her tongue. “Such a sweet boy and so sad that he’s all alone.”
Sweet boy?
“You know Gavin too?”
Patty chuckles. “I practically raised him. His parents hired me to help on their ranch with housekeeping and the boys as well. I’ve known him since he was hardly up to my knee, trying to sneak lizards into the house and terrorizing me.”
I can’t help but smile at the idea of a young Gavin, palming a lizard.
“Anyway,” she continues. “I’d feel better if you checked on him. I’ll give you his address and the passcode for the gate and house. It’s the same. Ready?”
She doesn’t even give me time to argue, and I manage to open my note app to save his address and the four-digit passcode.
“You really think I should go?”
I can hear Nancy in the background saying something, but it sounds like Patty has her hand over the phone. She comes back a moment later.
“Yes, we’re both concerned. It would mean a lot to us.”
I can hear the smile in her voice, and this is starting to feel like a setup. But who am I kidding? Gavin needs me.
I have plenty of time to rethink this plan on the drive up to his house. And I do mean up, as his house is located in an exclusive neighborhood in the hills overlooking Austin and the Colorado River. The roads are steep and winding, mansions sprouting from the hillsides and hidden in by trees.
When I reach the iron gates at the end of a private drive shrouded in trees, I consider turning around. But I punch in the code anyway. At the least, I have to see Gavin’s house. The sun is just beginning to set, and when the curving driveway reaches an open space in the trees, the house and its incredible view are revealed against a pink and deep purple sky. I hit the brakes, stopping to stare.
The house isn’t massive, but it’s gorgeous, jutting up from the top of the hill in a gorgeous mix of metal, wood, and stone. The immaculate landscaping is gorgeous, but it’s the view that has me shaking my head. This is a multimillion-dollar view.
It’s a sobering reminder that Gavin is completely out of my league. I think of the house I’m sharing with my friends, a small craftsman style that we can barely afford to rent even pooling our money together. I’ve always loved that house and its location in South Congress. But Gavin’s house eats houses like mine for breakfast.
I park in front of the house and climb the front steps. Large windows line the front of the house. No lights are on inside, but I can see straight through to a wall of windows on the back of the house. Beyond that, it’s just sky. From this vantage point, the house seems like it’s perched in the sky itself.
I have the code for the keypad, but I knock first, shifting back and forth on the balls of my feet while I wait. There’s no response, and when I press my ear to the smooth wood (clearly the next obvious step), I hear nothing. I look at my phone again, checking for new texts. Maybe one from Gavin saying, Oops! Meant to text someone else! But there’s nothing.
I guess I’m going in.
Channeling a confidence I most definitely do not feel, I punch in the passcode. The bolt slides back,