Rock With Me(63)

“Let’s take our bags upstairs,” Leo murmurs and leads me to the stairs.

The upstairs is more of the same. Everything is crisply white with weird, modern art on the walls. We pass doors that I assume are to offices or spare bedrooms, and he leads me to a large, sparsely furnished master bedroom. The bed is the size of Alabama, soft and all the linens are white. There are black throw rugs covering the marble floor.

“Bathroom is through there.” He motions to the door to the left. “You can hang your things in the closet there, and the balcony is there.”

The balcony is the best thing I’ve seen so far. I wander over, open the glass door and step out onto the covered space. There are two oversized rocking chairs, and the view is breathtaking.

The ocean is bright blue, reflecting the sun. There is a slight breeze.

I would spend every minute of every day out here if I could.

“You haven’t said a word,” Leo says from behind me. I turn around and lean against the railing, watching him. His hair moves with the breeze. His tattooed hands are tucked in the pockets on his ass, pulling his red tee tightly over his hard chest. “What are you thinking?”

“I would spend every day out on this balcony.”

He chuckles and nods. “I usually do when I’m here.”

“How often are you here?”

He frowns. “Not often. Maybe about two days every two to three months.”

“So, you spend roughly one to two weeks here each year?” I ask, surprised.

“Lately, yeah.”

“Damn, no wonder you needed a break.” I cross my arms over my chest. When will he leave again?

He tilts his head to the side, watching me closely. “What was that thought you just had?”

“Just thinking about your busy schedule,” I respond.

“That’s the second time you’ve lied to me today,” he murmurs softly, his eyes hard.

“It’s not a lie.”

He moves toward me and brushes my lower lip with his thumb. “Talk to me.”

“You’re busy,” I state simply.

His eyes narrow, watching me, and then he sighs. “I’ve slowed down.”

“For now.” I shrug. “Did you decorate this place?” I ask before he can drill me further on the subject.

“No.” He laughs. “This is pretty much what it looked like when I moved in.”

“It’s not you,” I tell him honestly. “It’s cold and impersonal.”

“What am I?” He asks and moves a little closer.

“You’re not this ultra modern, sterile place.”

“Maybe I should have it redecorated?” He asks with a grin.

“Maybe.” I shrug.

I don’t like it that he lives here. That’s what it boils down to. I hate it that he owns a house in L.A. and not in Seattle. This isn’t where he belongs.

“Okay, your brain is moving past the speed of light, and as much as I’d love to torture you until you talk to me, we need to get you to Burbank.” He leans in to kiss me softly, tenderly, and I’m shocked to feel tears trying to form in my eyes. “We’ll talk later.”

“I’m fine.”

“We’ll talk later.”

***

“Thanks for coming all this way for this interview, Ms. Williams.” Mr. Foss smiles and shakes my hand. He’s shown me around the offices, introduced me to a few people, and now we’re settled in his office, ready to get down to business.

“Thanks for having me.” I smile brightly.

“Your resume is certainly impressive, and there are about three other people who will join us shortly to proceed through the interview. But before they do, I have a couple of questions.”

“Of course.”

“I called your former employer at Seattle Magazine.”

Fuck.

“Yes?”

“I’ve known Bob for quite some time. As you know, the world of journalism is a small one.” He smiles kindly, but I feel my stomach clench.

“That it is.” I nod. Get to the point.

“Bob wasn’t terribly complimentary.” He begins and I feel my cheeks heat. That sonofabitch! “But I know, being in the business we are, that there are always two sides to a story.” He raises an eyebrow.

“Mr. Foss.” I begin and clear my throat. “I love what I do. I think you’ll see from my resume and other references that I’m dedicated and that I’m good at my job. But I’m fiercely loyal to my family, and I would hope that any employer who takes me on would respect that.”