here.”
Inside, the walls were covered with rich burgundy wallpaper.
Bookcases filled with leather-bound books stretched across two sides. A sleek,
impossibly thin laptop computer sat on a mahogany desk. Covering one wall,
eight-by-ten photographs displayed luxury buildings. Like the rest of the
house, floor-to-ceiling windows on the ocean side brought the surrounding
nature into the room.
“Are you one of those people who bring your work home with
you?” she asked him.
“My grandfather founded Palisades Hotels. I’m the vice president
of operations at our West Coast headquarters in Portland.” He shrugged. “It’s
all title, really. I can do the work from anywhere, and they don’t miss me much
when I’m gone.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.” She moved inside and looked out
the windows at the lighthouse on the point again. She didn’t recognize it, but
somehow knew she should.
“I have a loft in Portland, but with Leah and Richard
separated, I spend more time here so I can help with Jocelyn,” he told her. “I
don’t miss the daily grind. It’s not as satisfying as I thought it would be
when I was in school. But, you know, family legacy and all that.”
She turned around. “University of Portland?”
He glanced away. “UC Berkeley, California.” He said it as
though it tasted sour in his mouth. “I have some work to do, but afterward you
can try some more memory tests on the keyboard like you did with the pen and
paper at the hospital. See if anything comes to you.”
“I’m not even sure I know how to use a computer,” she said,
eyeing the laptop. “But I’ll try anything.”
“Your room is down the hall.” Geoffrey stepped out of the
doorway and waited for her to follow.
She started after him but stopped. “Do you have a blank
notebook I could use? Maybe I should keep a diary of my intuitions.” She didn’t
feel comfortable telling him the first thing she would write was how she was
certain she didn’t live in this kind of opulence.
Geoffrey retrieved a spiral-bound notebook and a pen from the
office. He led her to the end of the hall to a pretty room decorated with blond
pine furniture, and bed coverings matching the flowery wallpaper. Soft peach
hues reminded her of summer, even though the gray sky outside threatened with
another storm.
“It’s lovely.” She stood in the doorway, gingerly cradling the
heavy cast with her good hand, almost afraid to venture in. Her arm had begun
to throb again, and with it, her head.
“Better than the shelter, I’ll bet.” He moved to the window
and fully opened the blinds. The cedar deck at this level met the sand dunes
without a railing. It wound out of sight to the right. A fluffy juniper in a
massive pot stood on the left side of the window, partially obstructing her
view of the ocean. Beside that, ice plant covered the sandy hill that slanted
toward the beach.
“The lower master-suite is on the far side on this level, but
no one is there so you’ve got the deck all to yourself. You’re welcome to use
the hot tub if you like.”
“Where’s your room?”
He turned back and faced her. Opaque light filled the bedroom
with a gentle glow. “Top floor, opposite side.”
It sounded as though he wanted to assure her she had all the
privacy she could possibly want, and that he’d stay far away from her. She
wanted to tell him she appreciated it, but was afraid it would sound like she
was hoping that was the case.
Already this arrangement felt like a bad idea.
He crossed the room to stand before her, silhouetted by the
gray light filtering through the window. August studied his features in the dim
light. His brown eyes were gentle, with a touch of sadness at their edges. She
suspected this man wasn’t only shy around women, but had a past as deep and
mysterious as her own.
“Is your arm starting to hurt again?”
She nodded. “But not so badly I want another of those pills.
They make me feel groggy.”
She glanced past him
Inside, the walls were covered with rich burgundy wallpaper.
Bookcases filled with leather-bound books stretched across two sides. A sleek,
impossibly thin laptop computer sat on a mahogany desk. Covering one wall,
eight-by-ten photographs displayed luxury buildings. Like the rest of the
house, floor-to-ceiling windows on the ocean side brought the surrounding
nature into the room.
“Are you one of those people who bring your work home with
you?” she asked him.
“My grandfather founded Palisades Hotels. I’m the vice president
of operations at our West Coast headquarters in Portland.” He shrugged. “It’s
all title, really. I can do the work from anywhere, and they don’t miss me much
when I’m gone.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.” She moved inside and looked out
the windows at the lighthouse on the point again. She didn’t recognize it, but
somehow knew she should.
“I have a loft in Portland, but with Leah and Richard
separated, I spend more time here so I can help with Jocelyn,” he told her. “I
don’t miss the daily grind. It’s not as satisfying as I thought it would be
when I was in school. But, you know, family legacy and all that.”
She turned around. “University of Portland?”
He glanced away. “UC Berkeley, California.” He said it as
though it tasted sour in his mouth. “I have some work to do, but afterward you
can try some more memory tests on the keyboard like you did with the pen and
paper at the hospital. See if anything comes to you.”
“I’m not even sure I know how to use a computer,” she said,
eyeing the laptop. “But I’ll try anything.”
“Your room is down the hall.” Geoffrey stepped out of the
doorway and waited for her to follow.
She started after him but stopped. “Do you have a blank
notebook I could use? Maybe I should keep a diary of my intuitions.” She didn’t
feel comfortable telling him the first thing she would write was how she was
certain she didn’t live in this kind of opulence.
Geoffrey retrieved a spiral-bound notebook and a pen from the
office. He led her to the end of the hall to a pretty room decorated with blond
pine furniture, and bed coverings matching the flowery wallpaper. Soft peach
hues reminded her of summer, even though the gray sky outside threatened with
another storm.
“It’s lovely.” She stood in the doorway, gingerly cradling the
heavy cast with her good hand, almost afraid to venture in. Her arm had begun
to throb again, and with it, her head.
“Better than the shelter, I’ll bet.” He moved to the window
and fully opened the blinds. The cedar deck at this level met the sand dunes
without a railing. It wound out of sight to the right. A fluffy juniper in a
massive pot stood on the left side of the window, partially obstructing her
view of the ocean. Beside that, ice plant covered the sandy hill that slanted
toward the beach.
“The lower master-suite is on the far side on this level, but
no one is there so you’ve got the deck all to yourself. You’re welcome to use
the hot tub if you like.”
“Where’s your room?”
He turned back and faced her. Opaque light filled the bedroom
with a gentle glow. “Top floor, opposite side.”
It sounded as though he wanted to assure her she had all the
privacy she could possibly want, and that he’d stay far away from her. She
wanted to tell him she appreciated it, but was afraid it would sound like she
was hoping that was the case.
Already this arrangement felt like a bad idea.
He crossed the room to stand before her, silhouetted by the
gray light filtering through the window. August studied his features in the dim
light. His brown eyes were gentle, with a touch of sadness at their edges. She
suspected this man wasn’t only shy around women, but had a past as deep and
mysterious as her own.
“Is your arm starting to hurt again?”
She nodded. “But not so badly I want another of those pills.
They make me feel groggy.”
She glanced past him
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