trotted into the house, I shut the door and headed into the kitchen. He followed at my feet. He even squeezed out a little mewl of anticipation. There was food in his bowl already, but I hadn’t given him his favorite treats in a few days.
“You shouldn’t be so nice to pretty girls who show up at the door,” I told him, even as I poured treats into his dish and he lapped around my legs. “They’ll break your heart.” He dove into his food. “She’s not coming back,” I informed him, but he was too busy doing his favorite thing in the world to care, purring while he stuffed his face.
I headed into the studio, and into the control room. I sat down in my rolling chair and slowly spun toward the window. The one that would look out into the front yard if I ever opened the blinds.
I tapped one of the laptops on the table in front of me. It woke from sleep mode and I clicked the icon that opened the feed to the security cam on the front gate. It showed the gate, closed. And no sign of Taylor.
She was already gone.
I wondered how she’d gotten in.
She’d asked me if I heard the buzzer. I should’ve had my ringer turned on this morning, watched for her to arrive at the gate—if I was considerate enough to think ahead like that and respect the effort my sister had gone through to set up this meeting. But I’d totally forgotten about the meeting, pretty much seconds after Courteney texted me yesterday to let me know what time Taylor would be here. I was in the middle of listening to music.
And this morning when she arrived, I had music on in my headphones.
Did Courteney drop her off and buzz her in? Or did my sister actually lend her the remote for the gate? She’d given one to my former assistant, what was his name? Hard to remember when he only lasted a week.
No way Taylor actually scaled my fence to get in here. Did she? Somehow, I wouldn’t put it past her. She seemed… resourceful like that. The don’t-waste-my-time type.
The I-don’t-care-enough-about-the-rules-to-let-them-stop-me type.
Not my type, that was for sure.
Go. Stay.
I couldn’t decide which I wanted her to do. That was my first problem, as soon as I found the note she stuck under my cat’s collar. He’d trotted in here and rubbed against my leg, and when I didn’t take enough notice for his liking, he’d jumped up on the control panel in front of me to get in my face. He knew he wasn’t supposed to do that, but I kinda let him get away with it. His giant paws with the tufts of fur sticking out between his toes stepped gingerly over the buttons and he humped his back, looking for attention. I’d plucked him off to put him on the floor and there it was. A piece of folded paper, deliberately tucked under his collar.
I unfolded it.
I’m here, in your backyard - Taylor.
And then, underneath that, like an afterthought: Courteney sent me.
And that was when I remembered the meeting my sister set up.
Ashley Player’s wife’s best friend.
The executive assistant.
The note paper was purple and shaped like a star. For some reason, I smelled it. It just smelled like paper and my cat.
I’d half-considered just tearing it up and ignoring it.
But I went to the living room and took a look out, and there she was. Standing at the edge of the pool, a woman in a long black dress with pink hair.
I opened the door, because I wanted to see her better.
She turned, and I saw the pretty, round face. The round mouth and the puffy, dewy lips. She’d come right over and stood in front of me, looking up into my eyes. It was bright and sunny out, but we were in the shade, and the corners of her eyes turned up in happy little crinkles when she wasn’t smiling at all.
She introduced herself and said something about Courteney and I just stared at her. Her voice was soft but husky, not businesslike. Cool and maybe slightly aloof, but not cold. The breeze fluttered her long dress distractingly around her legs.
Is this a good time? she’d asked me.
Go. Stay.
Then I saw the tattoo. I saw what it said.
I made the decision to let her in. I told myself it was for Courteney. I’d get it over with. I’d make it fast.
As we sat down, I