feeling could be ignited by the smallest thing. A look. A raised eyebrow. A sigh. A laugh. Being bullied at school—and don’t get me started on my parents—had given me a dichotomized personality: touchy, chippy, insecure, eager-to-please. A person with a silently ticking, don’t-push-me-too-far breaking point. Silly not to confront this trio considering they were standing on my land and should’ve been apologizing to me.
“They said it was going to be sunny,” the boy said. “But they were wrong.” He was strikingly handsome, with wide, greenish eyes and unkempt, sandy hair. He looked familiar, but then, he had that typical movie star aura about him, and I’d seen a dozen like him on TV. Usually in soap operas. The chiseled jaw, the perfect set of American teeth that somehow manages to be revealed even when someone isn’t smiling. The worked-out physique. That’s the USA for you. Perfection in a neat package. Especially in California.
“I love it when it’s like this, though,” the girl with long blond hair said. She was like a female version of the boy. Her jaw not as firm and her eyes a touch softer, but still the dazzling Aegean green. Then the other girl spoke—the brunette with the chic bob-cut. She was the smallest of them all, though something told me she was the other girl’s twin. They were too alike not to be twins.
“Yeah, it’s always like this, this time of year.”
No apology. They all looked as if they belonged here.
“What direction are you headed?” I asked.
“Just up here.”
I didn’t say anything. In Britain, there are rights of way that often cut directly through someone’s private land. Public footpaths, they’re called. Footpaths that have been in place for centuries that no amount of influence or money can erase. Even Madonna had had public footpath issues on her property in England. Perhaps there was a walkway coming through here I didn’t know about? Maybe the last owners had illegally put the fence up? I stood there awkwardly, not knowing whether to go down towards the beach or turn right around and go back home.
“We were kind of hoping to go and visit the house up there. Take a look around. Meet the owner.”
“The house?” I echoed.
“The one that’s all glass and stone. You the owner?” The boy nodded in the direction uphill, toward Cliffside.
I hesitated then answered, “Yes, that’s my house up there.” It clicked into place, why he looked familiar. The waiter at the restaurant where I’d met Pippa. He didn’t seem to recognize me, though. With my mousy hair and indistinct features, I was used to going unnoticed.
“The most beautiful place in the whole wide world,” the brunette said, and sighed. She was dressed all in black. Tight skinny jeans, black Doc Martens, and a black T-shirt. She wore a diamond stud in her nose.
“Yes, it’s my house,” I repeated.
“Lucky you,” the blonde said, smiling at me. I remembered she was the one who played guitar. She wore a long flowery dress and a woolly green scarf the same color as her eyes. All three of them could have been in a rock band or a hit TV series they were so attractive, so charismatic.
“Yes, I’m very fortunate,” I answered.
“That’s so cool you’re the new owner!” the boy said, grinning. “You going to invite us in?” He took a step closer. “You’re British, right? I can tell from your accent. Invite us in for a cup of tea. Isn’t that what you Brits do every afternoon? Drink tea and eat crumpets?”
I smiled a little. I loved hot toasted crumpets dripping with butter. I hadn’t eaten any in years. The young man’s familiarity amused me, but my hackles were raised. Who were these kids so interested in my house? They were disconcertingly sure of themselves, to the point of being pushy. I allowed my eyes to rove over him. Just for a few seconds. I didn’t want to seem rude, but I had to protect myself. Had to weigh up the pros and cons of being friendly with total strangers. They seemed innocuous, but their confidence, especially the boy’s, made me wary. Inviting three people I didn’t know right into my house, all at once, might not be the smartest thing to do, despite their youth and friendly manner. But at the same time I was glad to have them around. The flower delivery, or rather, the note that came with it, was freaking me out.
“I was on my way to the beach, actually,” I