It was typical Marin.
She didn’t worry if the paparazzi caught her with hair messy from the rain or her clothes soaked from the unseasonable downpour.
He climbed out of the car and flipped up his collar to keep the cold mess from dripping down inside his collar. Sebastien personally hated rain, but he hated keeping up with umbrellas, too. He hardly ever needed them in LA and he wasn’t going to melt if he got wet. As he tossed his keys to the valet, he watched Marin pull away from the curb and tried to decide if he was disappointed he’d missed her. He hadn’t called before he headed over, but JD usually kept Fridays open so he could deal with backlogged work or whatever else needed to be done. As he strode in, he could feel a hundred pairs of eyes on him, and the low murmur of voices rose around him.
He didn’t slow down.
He kept his eyes focused on the bank of elevators and ignored the itch and tug of the scar tissue on his face.
Nobody tried to talk to him and when he walked into the elevator, nobody got in with him.
He punched the button for JD’s offices, high on the top floor and looked up.
The receptionist behind the counter was staring at him, her expression flushed, her eyes wide. For one moment, their gazes locked and then hers bounced to his scar.
The doors slid quietly shut and he tipped his head back, staring up at the ceiling of the elevator grimly. The floors sped by, taking far too long and not long enough. When the doors opened with a soft chime, he took a deep breath.
Game on, Seb. Game on.
He strode inside, mentally rehearsing what he’d say to Ruth, the lady who’d manned the receptionist’s desk here for as long as he could remember. But Ruth was standing behind her desk, quietly talking to JD when he pushed through the doors.
Her polite smile froze for a moment as she turned his way and Sebastien braced himself.
Then, even as he tried to say something, a laugh exploded out of her, shattering her expression of elegant competence as she came rushing out from the behind the desk.
“Sebastien Barnes!” She caught him up in a tight hug as JD continued to stand there, watching him. “It’s about time you came back out into the land of the living!”
***
The colors were so brilliant, they all but set the skyline to flame.
Red and orange, yellow and russet, the leaves trembled in the wind that came whistling through the mountains.
Marin sighed with pleasure as she sank deeper into the hot tub.
Steam rose above the hot water and cool air kissed her shoulders. She had a glass of ice water on the ledge and the sound of a cello rippled on the air. She’d needed this.
Willing her brain to empty, she closed her eyes to the beautiful panorama all around and let the water beat at her tired body.
She’d flown in from LA late the previous night, had driven to her house roughly an hour from the airport, and by the time she’d gotten here, she had been too tired for anything other than a quick sandwich before bed.
She had no staff. Once a week, a lady came in to clean and a crew kept up the grounds, but when Marin came here, she came for privacy. Hardly anybody even knew this place existed and that was just how she liked it.
A few weeks of reading, relaxing, maybe some shopping if she felt like making the drive up to Nashville—that was all she had in mind for the foreseeable future. Thanks to the now-canceled project, she could do whatever she wanted for a while.
Unaware of everything, she let her mind drift.
She might have fallen asleep in the hot tub if the phone hadn’t rang some time later, startling her right into wakefulness.
She rubbed at her eyes with one hand and hit the controls for the tub with the other, looking around. The sun had set. She tried to figure out how long she’d been sitting in the water, but her mind was a muggy mess, so hazy she worried she might be getting sick.
When the phone rang again, she snatched it, mostly just to see what time it was, but seeing JD’s name, she sighed. Responsibility was something bred into her bones and if JD was calling her on vacation, then it was something important.
“Hello.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed to talk to me, darling,” her manager said, his voice jubilant. “After all, I call with good tidings.”
“It’s too early for Christmas tidings.” She reached for her water and frowned when she realized how warm it was. No wonder she was feeling light-headed. If she’d been sitting out here long enough that the water in her insulated cup had gotten warm, then she’d been out here way too long. This is why they put safety warnings on hot tubs, she told herself.
“Well, I still have a gift for you.”