The word goes through my head. Whoever she is, she’s mine.
I scroll frantically through Ethan’s feed, looking for more signs of the woman. I pause when I find her again.
This time it’s a different night. It’s just the woman and Ethan in the picture, and he’s got his arm around her in a protective, brotherly way.
There’s a comment from Craig.
This woman deserves a medal for being assistant to my cranky husband.
She’s Ethan’s assistant. The woman’s not tagged in the photos, so I can’t find her name. But I know instantly that I have to find her.
“What do you think, Kray?”
“Hmm?” I’m pulled back to reality by Jesse looking at me expectantly. I have no idea what he’s talking about, so I nod. “Yeah.”
He grins at Lyle, and they both crack up. I’ve got no idea why they’re laughing at me, but I don’t care.
They’re still laughing as I walk away with my ear plastered to my phone. I have to speak with my brother and find out who that beauty is.
2
CLEO
Ipull into parking space number twenty-two and stop well short of the charging port before I put any more dents in my banged-up blue Honda. Ethan usually parks his Tesla here, but they’ve left it in long-term parking at the airport so I can have a covered parking space.
My boss is the best.
Hauling my bags out of the trunk, I sling my laptop bag over my shoulder and pull up the handle for my suitcase. I’m only house sitting for a week, but I like to be comfortable. Besides, it gave Lisa more room to spread out at my place.
She contacted the charity I volunteer for needing temporary accommodation for a few days over Christmas, and I was happy to offer up my place. It made sense since I’m house sitting for Ethan.
I think about my tiny studio apartment above a laundromat as I step inside the elevator that will take me up to the penthouse apartment in Fitzpatrick Place.
As the doors start to close, a spindly arm in a leopard print sweater slides between them. The doors halt and jerkily reopen. Fitzy fixes me with a warm smile as she steps into the elevator.
“Are you staying with us again, dear?”
She makes it sounds like Fitzpatrick Place is a hotel I’m visiting and she’s the welcoming committee, which isn’t a bad thing. Fitzy’s as old as the building, and she’s been nothing but kind whenever I come to housesit.
“Just for a week.”
Fitzy’s eyes shoot into her hairline. “Over Christmas?”
I hear the implied question. She’s wondering why I don’t have a family to go to. But as nice as Fitzy is, I don’t feel like explaining my situation.
“Yup.”
She gives me a wily look but doesn’t push. “Where have those boys gone away to this time?”
She’s referring to my boss, who’s pushing forty, and his older husband as if they’re wayward children and not high-powered executives.
“They’re in Barbados.”
Fitzy sucks in her breath. “Ohhh, Barbados,” she practically squeals. “I almost got married there.”
I try to hide my surprise. But I suppose the white-haired woman with a penchant for leopard print and fluffy slippers was young once.
“He was a local diving instructor. I met him when our ship docked on his island. I was snorkeling on one of the naturalist beaches.”