She got in the shower—which wasn’t as good as the bathtub, obviously, but was still excellent—got dressed, and went downstairs.
Michaela was at the kitchen table when she walked in. She set her teacup down and stood up.
“Good morning,” Michaela said. “Coffee or tea? And how do you feel about a cookie for breakfast?”
Izzy grinned at her. “I feel great about a cookie for breakfast. And coffee, please, if you have it.”
Michaela walked over to the coffeepot and poured coffee into a mug. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Just milk, thanks, but I can get it,” Izzy said. “How’s your ankle?”
Michaela glanced down. “Oh, it’s a lot better today, thanks again.” She put a cookie on a plate and handed it to Izzy. “So you’ll be here until next week?”
Beau had told Michaela. This must actually be happening.
“That’s what it looks like,” Izzy said. “I hope that’s not too much trouble for you?”
“Not at all,” Michaela said. “Let me know if you have questions about anything; I know this house pretty well.” She looked around the kitchen. “There’s always something around here for breakfast; I make lunch and dinner. But feel free to come in the kitchen and forage for snacks or whatever anytime.”
Izzy laughed. “Thank you, I’m kind of a snacker. I appreciate that.”
Michaela grinned. “Beau is also kind of a snacker, so I’ve stocked up. Let me know if there’s anything that you particularly want me to get you.”
She threw open a big cabinet, and Izzy’s mouth dropped open. The cabinet was like a snack wonderland. She immediately spotted a box of her favorite crackers, those fancy ones they had at work events with the fruit and nuts in them. There were also three kinds of cheese crackers, a few peppercorn flavored, some herb, some plain. Plus, an entire shelf full of potato chips, of many different flavors and brands, some of which she’d never even seen before. And then there was cereal, granola, popcorn, jerky, candy…Izzy had to turn away, she felt like she was getting woozy.
“Is this a magic house?” she asked.
Michaela just laughed. “Oh, and let me give you my number, in case there’s anything you need and you can’t find me.”
Izzy pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed in Michaela’s number. “Great, thanks. Also, I was wondering…did you knock on my door last night?”
Michaela shook her head. “Nope, I loaded the dishwasher and left.”
So it really had been Beau.
Just then, Michaela looked past Izzy’s shoulder. “Morning, Beau.”
Izzy took a sip of coffee before she turned around.
“Morning,” Beau mumbled as he walked into the kitchen. He didn’t even glance in Izzy’s direction.
“Beau, you should take Isabelle on a tour,” Michaela said. “I’d do it, but I can’t, because of my ankle.” She limped over to the kitchen table and sat down.
“A tour?” Beau stared at Michaela. He looked just as horrified about the prospect of giving Izzy a tour as Izzy felt about going on one. Last night had been disastrous enough—this felt like a terrible idea.
“You know, take her around the house and the gardens, make sure she knows the lay of the land, etc.”
Izzy almost laughed out loud. The house and the gardens? Was this a palace?
But then, a tour would force Beau Towers to talk to her, sort of. Maybe even about his memoir?
Would he let her actually help him with it? Unlikely. Would he even give her this tour? Almost certainly not.
“Fine,” he said. “Let’s go.”
That was surprising.
“After you,” he said, and gestured for her to precede him out of the kitchen. Oh, the tour was starting now? Okay.
Izzy downed the rest of her coffee before she walked by him and into the hallway. Good thing she’d put her work phone in her pocket before she’d come downstairs—if Marta sent an email that Izzy didn’t respond to right away, she’d flip out.
Beau joined her in the hallway and pointed back the way they came.
“Kitchen,” he said. He pointed next to it. “Dining room.”
Ah, this tour was just an excuse for him to be a jerk again. Got it.
He pointed back and to the left. “Michaela’s office.” He looked at her for the first time that morning. “The rest of this hallway is off-limits.” Then he walked off in the other direction.
“Wow, a complete sentence,” Izzy said under her breath.
She followed him down the hall. Was he going to bring up last night? Or tell her why he’d emailed Marta? Or even mention that she was going to be staying with him for the next four days?
He turned to the right when they got to the staircase, and pointed again. “Living room.”
Apparently not.
Izzy followed Beau into the living room. It was a large, bright room, with a big fireplace, comfortable-looking couches, photographs on the walls, and the same gorgeous view as Izzy’s bedroom. Huh. She’d assumed that Beau had bought this house a year ago, or that it was some kind of fancy rental, but this living room made it look like an actual home that real people had lived in. Now she was confused.
He turned and pointed to a half-open door a few steps down the hall. “TV room.”
Did he watch TV in there? She could just picture him in there at night, watching wrestling or Animal Kingdom or whatever.
“Okay,” she said.
He glanced over at her, then quickly away. Why had he looked away from her so fast? Did she have something in her teeth? Chocolate on her shirt? She looked down at herself: She was wearing jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan, since almost everything else she’d brought with her to California was either conference wear or pajamas. Thank goodness she’d brought those two sundresses in a fit of optimism. She’d certainly get wear out of them over the next few days.
They turned back toward the front entry, passing two big closed wooden doors that looked sort of like church doors. Beau didn’t say anything as they walked by, but Izzy was curious about them. She shrugged to herself; she might as well ask.
“What’s in there?” she asked.
Beau shook his head. “No.” Oh great, there was that growl again. “Off-limits.”
How many weird, cursed rooms were in this house?
“Okay.” What else could she say?
He gestured to the staircase as they walked by. “Upstairs.”
This time, she couldn’t hold herself back.
“Yeah, I got that. Because of the stairs and all.”
Was that a smile? It flashed on his face for a half second, but it was gone before Izzy could really be sure.
“Right.” He glanced in her direction. “Upstairs is off-limits for me. While you’re here, I mean. I don’t want you to feel like…Anyway, upstairs is all yours. Go wherever you want, I don’t care.”
Was that…Was he trying to make her feel comfortable? It actually sort of worked, if that had been his intention. But now she had no choice but to bring up the night before.
“You, um, came upstairs last night, though,” she said.
He looked away from her again. “I know. I…You hadn’t had dinner.” He looked back at her. “I won’t do it again.”
She nodded. “Okay. And thanks for bringing me dinner.”
He shrugged. “It was the least I could do.”
She started to respond, but he immediately turned toward the front door. Okay, then. She followed him outside.
He turned to the right when they got outside and went around the side of the house. “Vegetable garden.” He pointed again. He’d managed to put actual complete sentences together for a while there inside, and now he was back to the stone-faced pointing.
She gazed at the vegetable garden. Vegetables growing outside in February. Incredible.
Beau turned and walked toward the back of the house, gesturing at the row of trees. “Orchard.”
At that, Izzy laughed out loud. She couldn’t help herself. “You have an actual orchard in your backyard?”
Beau looked at her sideways. “What’s wrong with that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nothing is wrong with it. It’s just…” Rich people really lived in totally different worlds, didn’t they? “Okay, what kinds of trees? What fruit?”
He looked at them. “Oranges, lemons, I think grapefruit maybe? Definitely figs. Oh, and of course avocado.”
“Oh right, of course avocado,” Izzy said. Yes, obviously, it made sense that there would be an avocado tree here. Izzy wasn’t even sure if she’d known before this moment that avocados grew on trees.