– alone, by the way – and had dressed in dark running pants, along with yet another T-shirt.
He looked amazing as usual, even while he paid the driver and gave him a tip so generous, the guy smiled like it was Christmas morning.
Afterward, all three of us ate together in the living room. There wasn't a ton of conversation, but there was more than enough to hold my interest. I was especially interested to learn that Brody and Waverly had dined last night not at Brody's condo, but at a sandwich place on the opposite side of the river. And, if Waverly's demeanor was any indicator, she'd seen his condo only from the outside.
In passing, I also learned that the film crew was staying at a local hotel, and that a full team of construction workers would be on-site the very next morning.
Apparently, this included Brody's two brothers – Chase and Mason.
By the time I crawled into bed, I was actually looking forward to the next day's activities. It would be interesting. And I'd get a sense of how quickly the house might be restored to its former glory.
But then, when the morning actually arrived, the experience proved to be anything but glorious.
Chapter 32
Arden
A male voice from somewhere behind me said, "What are you doing here?"
At the sound, I almost flinched. He'd said it like an accusation, not a question.
Slowly, I turned to look. And there he was, Mason Blastoviak – Brody's oldest brother. He wore jeans, a denim work shirt, and a scowl so ominous, I felt myself swallow.
I'd never met the guy in person, but I'd seen him plenty of times on TV.
On screen – and in real life – he looked a lot like Brody, with the same square jaw and the same muscular build. But there were plenty of differences, too. His hair was shorter, his eyes were darker, and his mouth was compressed so tight, I took an involuntary step backward.
I was standing out in the front yard of what used to my grandparent's place. Around us, construction workers were busy lugging around tools and supplies while Roy and Jerry wandered through the commotion, filming as they went.
It wasn't quite eight o'clock in the morning, and I'd been trying to stay out of the way until I was called to do otherwise.
The weather was brisk and windy – so windy that even out here in the front yard, the sounds of waves crashing against the beach behind the house was so loud that I hadn't heard Mason approach.
Still, I tried to smile as I said, "Sorry, I didn't hear you come up."
Without smiling back, he repeated his original question, more slowly this time. "What are you doing here?"
My smile faltered. "You don't know?"
"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking."
Okay, I definitely wasn't smiling now. "I was hired as a consultant."
From the look on his face, this wasn't what he wanted to hear. In a tight voice, he asked, "To consult about what?"
It was a good question, and the answer was confusing even to myself. "Well, you see…." I blew out a nervous breath. "My family used to own the house, so they wanted someone to help with the historical stuff, I guess."
His expression only darkened. "Who?"
By now, I was seriously rattled. "Sorry, what?"
"Who hired you?"
His hostility was a force to be reckoned with, and yet I tried not to take it personally. This was, after all, Mason Blastoviak, the least likeable of the three brothers.
From watching the show, I already knew that he wasn't a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. In fact, he could be a real bastard sometimes – like now, for example.
But of course, I reminded myself, this might not be so random as it seemed. Although we'd never actually met, he'd surely heard my name years earlier, and not in a good way, after I'd torched Brody's pickup.
Was he putting my face with that name?
But of course he was. Nothing else could explain his overt hostility. I sighed. "Let me guess. You're angry about that thing from high school. I mean, when I was in high school. Not you, of course." At the memory, I almost cringed. "You know, that thing with Brody's truck?"
Without bothering to reply, he said it again. "Who hired you?"
I had to give the guy at least some credit. He could definitely focus. "Alright, fine," I said. "It was Landon Tarrington. There. Are you happy?"
His only answer was a low curse.
By now I felt like cursing, too. "Is that