He’d had his share of Hollywood babes disappear on him. More who’d needed a push out of his life. He didn’t want Phoebe to disappear and he didn’t want to push her or cause her embarrassment, scrutiny or anything she’d live to regret.
After his shower, Brandon walked up the road to Dylan’s place instead of cutting through the field. Noah almost went with him, but there wasn’t much to see. Dylan had shown him the plans for the new house and a barnlike building for his fledgling adventure travel business. He was also talking about finishing some of his father’s treasure hunts. He and Olivia would live in the house, which would allow The Farm at Carriage Hill to function exclusively as a destination getaway. In addition to soap making, she and Maggie were talking about offering herbal lunches, tours and lectures at Carriage Hill.
Unlike Noah, Dylan and Olivia and their friends in Knights Bridge didn’t lack for ideas of what to do with themselves.
If Olivia hadn’t met Dylan, she would have happily continued to live and work at her center-chimney house, with guests coming and going. Noah didn’t see Dylan sharing a bedroom with her down the hall from strangers.
He’d shown Grace Webster the plans for her former property, too. She’d told Noah when he’d visited her that she couldn’t wait to see the new house.
“I expect to live that long, you know,” she’d said with a twinkle in her aged eyes.
He had no doubt.
He occupied himself with a few NAK-related calls, cleaning Buster’s bowl, vacuuming Buster’s hair off the couch and picturing Phoebe harvesting orange mint.
Then he arranged for his flight back to San Diego himself. At six, he was scrounging in the freezer for something else to thaw for a quick dinner when Dylan called. Noah didn’t bother hiding his relief. “Someone to talk to who’s not from Knights Bridge. At least not yet. What’s up?”
“You tell me,” Dylan said. “Is there anything else I need to know about you and Phoebe O’Dunn?”
His friend might as well have been reading his mind. Noah was used to it. “I won’t screw things up for you here, Dylan.”
“That’s not an answer, is it?”
“Why are you asking?”
“I had a drink last night with Loretta and Olivia at the Hotel Del. We got to talking. It’s been on my mind all day. Olivia asked how fencing has influenced you.”
Noah frowned as he dug out another container of frozen soup. Tomato-basil. Sounded good, and he didn’t need much to eat before his flight. “Influenced me how?”
“In life. How you think, how you look at the world.”
“Mostly in fencing I’m trying not to get a blade driven into my heart.”
“Exactly Olivia’s point. Loretta agrees. You should have seen her. It was as if she’d had this sudden epiphany about you, what makes you tick.”
Noah set the container on the counter. “Dylan? Are you still jet lagged? You’re not making any sense.”
“You’re skilled at avoiding the touch of a sword,” Dylan said, apparently undeterred. “Any touch, not just one that goes to the heart.”
“That’s because any touch can be fatal.”
“Is that how you’re thinking now, about Phoebe?”
Noah made a face. “That she’s—what, a fencing partner?”
“That in life as well as in fencing, you seek to avoid the blade.”
“That’s a tortured metaphor, Dylan.”
His friend sighed. “I had to try.”
“Phoebe and Maggie were here earlier getting a start with making essential oils. That’s all I know.”
“Essential oils?”
“For the goat’s milk soaps. You know, this soap making is interesting.”
Silence on the other end of the phone.
Noah grinned. “You’re interested. You’re just surprised that I am, too. Never mind. I haven’t talked to Loretta today. Anything to add about Julius Hartley?”
“He does a lot of work in Hollywood,” Dylan said. “You have both business and personal connections there.”
“I did have personal connections. I haven’t in a while.”
“Maybe that’s why Hartley’s on your tail. Maybe some pissed-off actress you dated sicced him on you when you didn’t bankroll her in a movie.”
“Maybe,” Noah said. “I need to know.”
“I agree.”
“I’m having a bowl of soup and then flying to San Diego later tonight.”
“Good,” Dylan said. “You, Loretta and I need to put our heads together and see if we can figure out what’s going on.”
“Loretta and I can.” Noah felt a light breeze through the window above the sink. “You and Olivia will be walking on the beach.”
“She wants to go to the zoo.” Dylan sounded reasonably enthusiastic. “She promised to bring back stuffed giraffes for Maggie’s sons.”
Noah smiled. “Then the zoo it is.”
“Enjoy your soup. What kind?”
“Tomato-basil. I might add some of the pesto Phoebe and I made, although that could be overkill.”
“Noah…” Dylan broke off. “Never mind.”