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NATALIE
“Oh my gosh! Your house is so beautiful. It looks just like one of those mansions you see in fancy design magazines.”
I smiled at Tanya’s gushing words as we pulled into the driveway. It was a beautiful house. An almost six-thousand-square-foot Italianate that dated to 1926 and was located on one of the best streets in Hancock Park. While it wasn’t one of those Beverly Hills McMansions favored by the Hollywood elite and “new money” crowd, it was the five-bedroom house of my dreams with its soaring ceilings, grand entryway, and sweeping marble staircase. Many of the fixtures inside the house were the originals, and I’d painstakingly furnished it with Art Deco finds, some reproductions but all true to the period. After I’d recovered from my breakdown, I’d painted the exterior with a fresh coat of Mediterranean-pink paint and replenished the expansive front yard with rows of English roses so it looked more majestic than ever. Our mini LA palace.
As Matt parked the car, I glanced in the rearview mirror at our exchange student. Now wearing her baseball cap backward, I could better see her face. Her long-lashed dark eyes, full, slightly parted lips, high cheekbones, and strong dimpled chin. Her wide-eyed expression reminded me of Anabel, whose joie de vivre had been such a marked contrast to her violent death. With a hard blink, I shoved the horrific memory to the back of my mind.
Beautiful, spirited Tanya was going to breathe some much-needed new life into this house. I was sure of it.
In unison, we undid our seat belts. Well, except for Paige, who sat cross-legged, reading a thick book on Renaissance sculptors. While Tanya and I had animatedly talked about all the things to see and do in Los Angeles as well as the best places to shop on the way back to our house, Paige had kept her nose in her book for the duration of the ride. She’d always been closed off, but had grown more so since her sister’s death, something she never talked about. At least to me, that is. Though in all fairness, perhaps I’d never given her the opportunity when she needed it most.
I craned my neck and looked back at my daughter. “Paige, we’re home. Please put your book away and unbuckle your seat belt.”
Without so much as glancing up at me, she told me she wanted to finish her book and go with her father to pick up Will.
“Fine.” I pinched my lips together, not wanting to create a scene in front of Tanya, especially on her first day here. And besides, it would give me some one-on-one time to get to know our new houseguest better.
Matt hopped out of the car first, and with me and Tanya behind him, he brought her two bags to the front door. My eyes stayed trained on my husband’s trim physique. Even with his back to me, he cut a beautiful picture in his designer jeans and slim-fitting shirt. Tall, athletically built with broad shoulders, a tapered torso, and long muscular legs, his body was his temple and he worked out religiously. Face-wise, he was movie star handsome with strong chiseled features, thick enviable brows, and wavy reddish-brown hair that had just started to show signs of graying, which only added to his allure.
And he was rich. Not billionaire rich, but rich enough to buy this five-million-dollar house, indulge in luxury cars, designer clothes, and first-class travel. He put all our kids in elite private schools and afforded me the lifestyle of a Beverly Hills housewife—a daily regimen of Soul Cycle or Pilates, shopping on Rodeo, lunch with a friend, a touch-up here and there, and whatever philanthropic activity fell on that particular day. My gal pals teased me that they would kill to be married to a man like Matt. The perfect husband.
Not really. Nor was I the perfect wife. If he knew my secrets, I’m sure I’d lose him.
But instead, I’d lost Anabel.
I pushed those dark thoughts away as we stepped inside the house.
Tanya squealed. “It’s as pretty inside as it is outside. I love it! I feel like I can live here forever!”
I did too, I thought, as Matt returned to the black sedan and backed it up onto the street. Closing the front door, I glimpsed Paige sitting in the back seat, her nose still buried in her book. Not once did she make eye contact with me.
Sometimes I thought she hated me.
Only not as much as I sometimes hated myself.
A loud bark followed by the skitter of claws across the smooth hardwood floor put an end to that thought.
Barreling our way was a huge furry beast. He beelined straight for Tanya, getting on his hind legs and pawing at her, yelping madly and almost knocking her down.
Fighting for her balance, Tanya shrieked, her eyes wide with panic.
Though I knew his barking was innocuous, just his excited way of greeting any visitor, I’d be freaking out too if I was her. Our big brown dog looked menacing.
Tanya grew more panicked, her face paling. “Get him off me! I’m afraid of dogs.”
“Don’t worry. He’s really sweet!”
“Please!” A desperate shuddery plea.
I immediately grabbed his red leather collar and tried to pull him off. Well over one hundred pounds and coming up to Tanya’s shoulders, he was a force to be reckoned with, even at the age of nine.
“Bear, off!” I commanded and instantly he acquiesced. “Good boy!”
“Thank you…” stammered Tanya, clearly still shaken.
I felt terrible. Our exchange student’s first minutes inside our house and this happened. I’d asked the kids to put him in the backyard, but maybe they hadn’t. Or maybe, our longtime housekeeper, Blanca, had let him in. She had a soft spot for our loveable dog and had done that before.
Hunched over, gripping his collar, I apologized and introduced Bear to Tanya. “Please don’t worry, dear. He’s really harmless. More like a big sweet teddy bear.”
