Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67675 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“I have to run a quick errand,” I said, turning back to them. “Can you watch Emma a little longer?”
“Of course,” my mother said generously. “I love being able to give you the help I didn’t have when you were young.”
I was glad she loved it today. Other days, she would have agreed with a resentful twist. I didn’t tell them my quick errand was going to talk to Landon.
We went back into the living room, and I checked in with Emma. She started to whine about going with me, but Robert promised to take her to the pool. I half wished I could have stayed to see it. No one looked more out of place at an LA pool than Robert with his tall, thin, blue-white body, sunglasses tipped on the edge of his aristocratic nose, a large straw hat casting a circular shadow around his person. My mother fit in perfectly with her sleek, stylish one-pieces, but she refused to get in the pool or even to move out of the shade of the umbrella. The sun and the chlorine aged her, she explained.
I helped get Emma into her swimsuit and then slipped out. I called Landon’s assistant on my way to my car to make sure he was in the office.
“He’s working from home for the rest of the day. Do you want me to have him call you?”
“Yes, please.”
Landon hadn’t called by the time I found my car, so I sat behind the wheel for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then, without giving myself a chance to second guess my decision, I started driving in the direction of his building. Landon lived on the top floor of the tallest residential building in LA. He’d chosen it for its proximity to his office, but also its complete impenetrability. The lobby had two security guards, and even if you got past them, the elevator required a special code before it would move.
If you wanted to break in from the outside, you’d have to be Spider-Man to scale the forty-five stories of sheer glass front, and there was only a tiny patch of outdoor space to land on if you tried parachuting in from above.
All things Landon explained with a perfectly straight face, as if it was normal.
I personally couldn’t stand it. I’d grown up in lush houses that blended indoor and outdoor space seamlessly. Walls slid back to let gardens into the dining room. Pools swept from the back patio into lower-level grottos with rattan couches and large screen televisions mounted on stucco walls. Landon had been appalled when he tried to enhance the security system four years ago.
“There’s no way to make this place completely safe,” he’d said, and that was how we’d ended up with bodyguards.
It had been a long time since I made the drive to what I used to refer to as his lair, but I hadn’t forgotten the way. He called just as I was parking.
“Hi, I’m in your garage,” I said.
“My garage?” Landon repeated, suspiciously.
“The garage for your building. Not your private one,” I amended. “I need to tell you what I found out.”
He paused. “I’m busy right now. Tell me over the phone.”
“No, I really can’t.”
Silence, then reluctantly, “I’ll let the concierge know you’re here.”
Landon answered the door looking gruff and annoyed. He was still in his suit, but he’d taken off the jacket and tie and rolled up the shirtsleeves. “You shouldn’t have come here. I would have met you at the office.”
I hiked up an eyebrow, instinctively annoyed at his tone. “Well, I’m here now, so can I come in, or should I tell you out here in the hallway?”
Landon didn’t have the good grace to look abashed, but he did step aside and gesture laconically for me to enter. I walked past him and headed for the living room. His decor hadn’t changed over the years — not that I’d expected it to. Landon, who noticed everything, barely saw his own home. It had a functional black couch and two dark gray armchairs, all grouped around a black marble fireplace. The flooring was light gray planks that didn’t do a thing to relieve the monochromatic aesthetic of the space. I blinked, disoriented as always, feeling as though I’d found myself transported into a black and white world.
At the mouth of the living room, Landon leaned a shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His pale green eyes seemed like the brightest spots of color in the whole place, and I focused on them while I told him what I’d learned from Robert and my mother.
They narrowed and darkened as I spoke. “Hardly fucking surprising,” he muttered to himself.
“Maybe not,” I said, annoyed. “But now I need to figure out what to do about it. Do I put an armed guard on my three-year-old or is there a better way to keep her safe? Or are we overreacting?”