Chapter Seven #3
“Yes,” I replied. “That’s the library.” If she heard the emphasis on my last word, she didn’t show it.
Damn it, I’d have to try harder, so she’d somehow understand the lengths to which I’d gone in the last few years to traverse the ocean between us.
“Thank you for the compliment about the collection. The classical ones are my favorites. Many are first editions.”
“I noticed, and in a way, I’m not all that surprised. You always loved reading.” She paused. “And I saw your collection of Great Gatsby memorabilia.”
My heart leapt again, and I made a metal note to stomp on it later.
I had to keep myself in check, had to remain in control.
That was imperative. But I also allowed myself to relish her comment.
Lila remembered a few facts about me, which meant she hadn’t completely erased me from her past, hadn’t forgotten me and whatever blip I’d been. Good news. I can work with this…
“One of my favorite displays in the room,” I replied. “Fitzgerald was a genius. A visionary.”
“A little like you these days, huh?”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t call myself that.”
“Why not? InstaPost is a big deal. Huge. I have it downloaded on my phone.”
“Good. I appreciate that, and I’m sure Preston will like that too.
” I kicked myself for the banality of this conversation.
Here was the woman I’d waited a decade to speak to, and we were talking about the app I’d cofounded?
How ridiculous. I want her to know me, not my app.
What I’ve become. “This house was designed with a visionary in mind. Frank Lloyd Wright.” What the hell am I saying?
“I noticed.” She seemed a little taken aback by my outburst. Like me. “I’m surprised the city allowed it to look this way, since they’re so particular about design aesthetics around here. It’s so much more modern looking than a lot of the other homes in town.”
“That’s precisely why I purchased it. It stood out, and I liked that.
” My mind raced, thinking of ways I could keep Lila with me.
I didn’t want her to rejoin the party, because then I’d risk losing sight of her again, risk losing her again.
Besides, I’d waited years to have this conversation, and by God, we would have it.
The stupid masquerade didn’t mean anything anymore; it had accomplished all I’d wanted it to do.
As far as I cared, the entire insipid affair could have broken off from the island and floated away down the Intracoastal.
I didn’t need a houseful of people I didn’t know in order to get to the next step in the plan. I just needed one.
“How about I take you on a tour?” I tried. “A private tour.”
She cocked her head. “What? A private tour?”
“My security team will usher everyone out onto the lawn. The circus performers are about to start outside anyway. And then we’ll have the house all to ourselves.”
“That so?” She eyed me. “Hmm.”
“Come on,” I replied. “You know you’re interested. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other.”
“Okay.” Lila looked as if she didn’t know whether to believe me. “Okay. I’d like to see the rest of the house.”
“Perfect,” I said, then resisted the urge to take her hand and lead her through the hallway. Even though I knew her, and even though we’d once shared a connection, I didn’t know her now. And for fuck’s sake, things had gone so wrong between us, and I had to remember that. “Follow me.”
We traipsed down the hall and I located Bruce, the head of the security team I’d hired for the evening.
He understood my request almost before I said it, and within seconds, he and the rest of security were directing party guests from the public areas of the house to the lawn.
As the people flowed out, the team closed the sweeping sliding doors and locked each one.
Soon, only Bruce, Lila, and I remained in the dimly lit living room.
“Do you want me to stay, Mr. Greene?” Bruce asked.
“No, that will be all, thank you.” I couldn’t dismiss him fast enough. I had Lila on my mind. Only her.
With a nod of comprehension, Bruce exited the main house and joined the hundreds of guests on the lawn, and I took my first whole breath in minutes. She was here. In my home.
“Let’s start here.” I turned to the Warhol, which I’d purchased during an exclusive auction at Christie’s. “It’s my favorite piece in the house.”
“It’s beautiful.”
Satisfied with her reply, I turned to the long rows of samurai swords hanging on the wall across from the fireplace.
I’d had Lila in mind for everything I’d purchased for this house.
It might sound stupid that I’d wanted this for a long time after such a small amount of time together when we were kids, but I finally felt…
worthy of her. I’d been building my empire, ready to show her that her faith in me had been warranted. That I hadn’t let her down.
“I thought it went well with these, which I picked up in Japan after I got out of the military.”
“Adam, I hadn’t realized you’d served. How long were you in?” She looked at me as if I was a hero. And nothing could be further from the truth, but I liked the look in her eyes.
“I served in the Army for a little over four years.” Yes, I felt proud of that time serving my country, but war always left its mark. Or marks. Even ones not easily seen.
She reached out and placed her hand on my elbow momentarily and then said, “Thank you, Adam. Thank you for your service.” God, how I wanted to pull her into my arms.
Then I motioned for her to follow me into the kitchen. “Thanks, Lila. Come on. I’ll show you the east wing.”