Chapter 4
FOUR
The ocean air stung her eyes as Brielle looked out the car window.
Mammoth beachside mansions whizzed by her, too quickly to get a good look in between the privacy fences.
But exotic sports cars sat idle in circular driveways while well-dressed, tanned people zipped around on fully loaded golf carts.
This was where the elite lived. The rich of the rich.
How the hell did Callum even know how to get here?
“Callum,” she said. “When you said you lived in a ‘gated community,’ this is not what I envisioned.”
“What did you think I meant? Prison?”
“That was closer to my impression than this.”
“Thanks,” he said. “You flatter me.”
He turned down a private road, then went another mile or two before stopping at a wrought iron electronic gate. Reaching out the window, he pushed some buttons on a keypad and waited for the doors to swing open.
“It’s a little off the beaten path, but it’s home.”
He pulled around the three-tiered fountain then let her out at the foot of the steep staircase. “Don’t trip going up,” he warned. “It’s marble so they can get slippery right around dusk.”
She pushed the car door closed behind her.
The sharp scent of the ocean told her they were out on the barrier islands, and the incredible quiet told her they were secluded.
No boat motors humming in the water, or sea planes buzzing overhead.
This was truly an obnoxious cliché of a tropical paradise.
Except it wasn’t obnoxious.
“You’re kidding, right? You don’t seriously live here, do you?”
“Why do you keep asking me that?”
“I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect…this.”
“Glad you like it.” He winked, then padded up the stairs in front of her with the bulk of their Chinese food. “Years back, I spent some time in the South of France and I really dug their architecture. Anyway, I saw it and I liked it.”
She looked up at the stately front door, stained glass inlayed in oak. Gigantic windows on either side gave a clear view right through the back of the house to the ocean. “It’s not huge,” he explained with his hand on the knob. “It’s only two bedrooms but you can’t beat the view.”
She followed him through the door and stood in the foyer. It was as if she had stepped into a magazine. The entire back of the house was glass, looking out at a lanai and beyond that, ocean. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn she was standing in the sand.
“I’ll take this stuff to the kitchen.” He slipped the plastic bag from her good hand then pointed ahead of them to the great room. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“No problem,” she mumbled, eyeing the hand carved moldings on the ceiling. “Wow, who painted those landscapes up there?”
“The same over-the-top guy who put in the marble stairs. Hey, can you use chopsticks? I can’t remember where I keep the silverware.”
“Chopsticks are fine.”
Brielle had searched for three years for something just like this.
Cozy enough for just one or two people, but big enough to house every luxury.
The living space was one big room with a kitchen and dining area nestled next to a stone fireplace.
At the far end of the room was a small kidney shape pool with a low far wall, allowing the water to pour like a waterfall to a smaller basin below.
It was completely landscaped as if it were outdoors with live plants and grass with gas-operated tiki lights strategically placed around it.
She padded up to the water edge, looking down at the lanai a few feet below. “Cool pool.”
“You like it? It’s kind of high maintenance but it has its own sprinkler system to water all the plantings.” He popped his head up from below the kitchen counter and waved two forks in the air. “Found the silverware.”
“Do you swim a lot?” she asked running her hand over the surface.
“On occasion. It’s more for entertainment purposes.” He opened the fridge and leaned on the door. “You want something to drink? I got some beer and a decent stash of wine.”
“Ice water is fine, thank you.” Pulling out a bar stool, she sat down at the kitchen island and watched him unscrew a glass of mineral water.
Callum wasn’t one of her father’s normal stooges if he could afford a place like this and in a sick way, that flattered her.
If Frank had hired Callum to hurt her, he’d sent one of his best men to do it.
“Callum, can I ask you something?”
He poured the water into an ice-filled glass. “Shoot.”
“I was just wondering about this place. It just doesn’t seem like the type of home where a guy like you would live.” She cocked her head, hoping it sounded like a question.
“I made a few good investments,” he said. “Nothing like the mountain of money your throne sits on, but I get by.”
“I’m serious. All I know about you is that you are a friend of my father’s, you drive a BMW, hate being snuck up on, and live in a ten-million-dollar paradise.”
“Those are the highlights, honey.”
“Fine, forget I asked. You have dealings with my father, so maybe I’m better off not knowing.” She waited for a reaction but got nothing. She watched him arrange the plates and silverware then seat himself on the stool across from her.
“Tell you what. How about if I ask you a few questions? I sort of have a policy to have at least some clue about the people I work for.”
She eyed him as she picked up her glass. “Ok, what exactly do you want to know?”
“Well, for starters, what’s it like to be so good looking?”
She laughed. “Your professionalism impresses me.”
He poured himself some chardonnay and looked at her over his glass. “I also think there’s more to you than just a pretty face.” He replaced the cork on the bottle. “I watched you today and you’re one hell of an athlete. I’m just curious about the rest of your life.”
She had stock answers to questions like these. Ones that were so rehearsed even the magazine interviewers were sick of them. “I play tennis. That’s it.” She opened a box of sweet and sour chicken and dumped some on her plate.
“No, I mean other than tennis,” he prompted. “I can read about your career anywhere. I want to know about you.”
“There is really not much to tell,” she sighed. “My mom died when I was young, my dad is well…my dad. I don’t have any siblings. I play tennis. There isn’t anything else.”
“You lonely?”
She stopped chewing mid-bite. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know. It can be lonely at the top. I was just wondering if you felt that way.”
“You say it like you know.”
“Just what I have heard.”
She had been asked that before. Reporters always loved the orphan phenom angle. She smiled politely, just as she would in an interview. “When you don’t have a family, you get used to being on your own a lot. I think it has actually worked to my advantage. It’s made me the athlete I am today.”
He shook his head, balancing his fork in his fingers. “That’s okay. We just met. I’ll accept stock answers for now.”
Was she that transparent? Did this man ever miss a beat?
“What about Frank? Not having a mom, you two must be close.”
“I guess so.” She pushed around a pile of fried rice, knocking a few grains clear off her plate.
She could feel his eyes on her, sizing her up.
To stay silent would only work against her, but to elaborate was an invitation to lie.
Her only hope was to end the conversation all together.
“Look Callum, my life is not that complex. I play tennis and I want to get back to it as soon as possible.”
“You know, there are a whole hell of a lot of people out there dying for you to get back on the court, too. I was talking to Anston Vitalie today while you were playing. He sounds like your biggest fan the way he bragged about you.”
“Really? Now that surprises me.”
“Why?”
“He and Geoffrey had a falling out. I think he took it personally when Geoffrey became my manager. Anston is still technically my coach, but we’re not as close as we used to be. I have to do what’s best for me.”
“Is Geoffrey what’s best for you?”
“He’s made me a lot of money.”
“That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about your personal relationship.”
Reporters always hinted at this question. That’s when she would paint on her giddy smile and gush about how smart and supportive Geoffrey was and how she didn’t know what she would do without him. She would lay it on so thick even she would gag. “Geoffrey is none of your business.”
“Maybe so,” he replied. “It just seems weird is all. A bride-to-be usually wants to talk about her impending nuptials.”
Her voice failed her, her mind beginning to wander to places she’d rather not be. Tossing her napkin on the counter, she pushed her plate away and looked out the window toward the ocean. “Ever notice how the sun seems to move quicker just before it sinks below the horizon? Why does it do that?”
“I don’t know,” Callum answered. “Maybe we could figure it out if we had a better view.” He stood up, motioning toward the windows.
“Come on, I’ll show you the deck.” She followed him past the pool down a small flight of stairs.
He pushed a button under the railing and the sliding glass doors in front of them opened.
Brielle had never seen some of the colors that hung in the sky. Red and purple haze cast shadows around the sun and rainbows in the mist of the deckside fountain. Mesmerized, she walked to the edge and brought a shielding hand to her forehead. “Wow, this is amazing.”
“You want to sit in the gazebo? It’s the best place to watch the sunset.” He pointed down another flight of stairs off the side of the deck. “Come on. I’ll show you.”