Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Simon
I stepped onto the plane and took my seat in first class.
I couldn’t wait to get back to New York.
I’d only been in Los Angeles for a month.
During that time, I hired a new project manager, calmed the contractors, and ensured that all materials were delivered.
Everyone had everything they needed and didn’t need me there anymore.
Besides, I couldn’t stand knowing the work that was piling up in the New York office.
I didn’t tell my father I was returning two months early.
He’d find out when he found me in my office.
Did he even care? He didn’t bother to call me once and ask how things were going.
I suspected it was a test. A test to see what I could truly do in an emergency so he could retire without worry.
I took care of it. I handled it. And now I was heading home.
“Welcome home, Simon.” My driver, Nick, smiled.
“Thank you, Nick. It’s good to be back in New York.”
He drove me home. When I climbed out of the car, Burt ran out and grabbed my bags.
“Mr. Montclair, you’re back early.”
“I am, Burt. It’s good to be home.” I smiled.
“Just to let you know that—”
My phone rang, and I pulled it from my pocket. “I have to take this. Just have my luggage sent up.” I headed toward the elevator.
Inserting the keycard, the elevator rose to my penthouse. When the door opened, Raine came running to greet me. Instantly, my brows furrowed.
“Raine, what are you doing here? Where’s Daisy?” I picked her up.
A scent radiated throughout the space. It smelled like women’s perfume. I headed toward the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw four large boxes sitting on the island.
“What the fuck? Daisy?” I shouted.
Suddenly, I heard a scream from behind. Turning around, I saw a woman who wasn’t Daisy standing there, her body wrapped in one of my bath towels.
“Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in my house?” I shouted.
“Oh, God. You must be Daisy’s cousin, Simon.”
My brows furrowed. “You know Daisy?”
“Yeah. From my college days. Why are you here?” She frowned.
“This is my house! Answer my question. Who are you, and why are you standing there in a towel?”
“What do you mean?” She cocked her head. “You said it was okay if I stayed here while you were out of town.”
“I most certainly did not!” I shouted.
“Oh, shit. Daisy didn’t tell you?”
“No. Daisy did not tell me!” I continued to shout. “Go put some clothes on and then tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Okay. Sorry.” She turned and slowly walked away.
I grabbed my phone and called Daisy.
“Hey, cousin. How’s Los Angeles?” she asked in her annoyingly perky voice.
“Would you care to explain to me why I’ve come home and there’s a strange woman in my penthouse?”
“Oh, my God. You’re back already?”
“Damn right, I am.”
“She’s a friend and needed a place to stay temporarily.”
“So, you let her stay at my place without even telling me?”
“I knew you’d throw a fit, just like you are now. She’s super sweet, Simon.”
“I don’t give a fuck, Daisy! Goddamn you. I trusted you with my cat and my plants. And you move in a stranger?”
“She’s not a stranger, Simon.”
“SHE IS TO ME!” I shouted. I turned around and saw the woman standing there in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. “I have to go.” I ended the call. “What is your name?” I asked.
“Bella Castle.”
“Bella, I’m going to pour myself a scotch, and then you’re going to tell me why you’re in my home, making a mess. Do you understand me?”
She nodded.
I walked over to the bar in the living room and poured myself a drink while she sat down on the couch.
“Explain. Now,” I spoke in a commanding tone.
“My name is Bella Castle, and I’m from Massachusetts.
I’m only here for a couple of months, working for Ever & Oak, shooting their fall line.
I didn’t have anywhere to stay, and I couldn’t afford the rent here.
Daisy said I could stay here because you’d be out of town for three months.
She told me she told you, and you were okay with it. ”
“Well, she lied to you. She didn’t tell me a thing. And no, I’m not, nor would I be, okay with it. This is my home. My sanctuary. This place is for me and me only.”
“So, you never have people over?”
“Of course I have people over. But they leave. I make decisions all day long. I answer questions. I solve problems that shouldn’t have become problems in the first place.
Half the time I can’t walk from my office to the elevator without someone stopping me.
When I step off that elevator at night,” I pointed, “it stops. No phone calls unless I choose to answer them. There are no meetings and no conversations I don’t want to have.
There is no one asking me for anything.”