“Are you really sure about this, Sherman?” she asked.
“Positive. I’ll be out in a couple of days to see how you’re settling in. I have to run now. Enjoy your evening on the water.”
Before she could utter another word, the line went dead and he was gone.
“The cottage had a problem. It looks like I’m staying in the main house for a few days,” Stormy said to Amy.
“Lucky you!” the girl replied with a laugh. She was trying to make a joke, but Stormy could feel her friend’s jealousy. “Let’s go on in. I’m dying to see the place,” Amy finished as she handed Stormy the purse she’d left in the car, and then rushed toward the front door.
The path to the entrance from the driveway was made of sparsely placed flagstones, each stone placed on a clean-cut carpet of deep green grass. The beautifully landscaped yard was no less amazing than others they had seen while driving through the small town.
Stormy moved up the walkway, the sound of rippling water filling her ears as her eyes were drawn to a nearby water feature. The fountain was an eight-foot stone ring encircled with concrete fish. Each figure spouted a thin stream of water toward the center, creating a harmonious sound akin to a babbling brook.
She peered through the water’s surface, which was littered with broad lily leaves and purple flowers, and noticed a giant orange and black spotted fish darting in the shallows.
Amy walked over to see what had made her friend smile. There were two fish that kept circling Stormy’s fingertip as she encouraged them to come closer to her.
“Come on, Stormy, let’s go. I want to see the inside of this palace,” Amy said. “We can play with the fish later.”
“Fine, just so long as you know that you’re zero fun right now,” Stormy retorted as she grabbed her bag.
The duo made their way up the beautifully set rock stairs to the front porch, and up to the large double-door entrance. Stormy reached out with the key in her hand, but she stopped, thinking the homeowner might be there and prefer she wait for him to answer.
Here we go, she thought as she pressed the illuminated doorbell button. The chimes sounded like church bells as she heard them echoing through the inside of the home. They waited for about a minute, and when there was no sound of movement, Stormy pressed the button once more, then knocked on the door. Stormy stood there feeling slightly awkward on the front porch.
“Don’t you have a key?” Amy questioned as she tapped on the door lock.
“Yes I do, but I feel kinda weird about using it,” Stormy responded. “Sherman said there were people who worked at the house, so maybe they’ll answer.”
“Well, I feel awkward standing here,” Amy said.
Stormy reluctantly placed the key in the lock when no one came after about five minutes. Amy grabbed Stormy’s hand and twisted, unlocking and opening the door.
“There, I saved you from thinking about it,” Amy joked as she gave her a pat on the back.
The door swung open and both ladies felt as if they were intruders as they stepped into the home’s large three-story foyer. Directly across from the entrance, a great hallway opened up into what looked like two bigger rooms.
The foyer displayed an elegant sweeping staircase that rose from the floor as if it had been carved from a single piece of wood.
Immediately to Stormy’s right was an ornate pair of French doors that were closed against a dimly lit office. Another hallway was beyond that, lined with a few mysterious doors, presumably bedrooms, bathrooms, or closets. To the left of the elegant entryway was the great room, its boundary marked by an enormous archway.
Polished hardwood floors with plush dark leather furniture formed a U shape around a beautiful fireplace on the far side of the room. On the crafted mantel stood a framed American flag, a model of a sailing ship, and the portrait of what appeared to be a World War II naval aviator.
As Stormy and Amy pressed forward, they noticed the great room transitioned to a dining room, comfortable yet formal. The dining room and kitchen shared a glass wall that was nothing more than large windows and French doors that opened up to a vast deck overlooking the harbor.
The home was impeccably decorated with aviation and nautical themes, old family photos, and various mementos. Even with all its elegance and charm, there was something undeniably masculine about the house. A bachelor pad—even if the bachelor in question was impeccably stylish, self-possessed, and fabulously wealthy . . . This place certainly needs a woman’s touch. There aren’t any flowers or throw pillows. But still, I’m impressed, Stormy thought as she continued exploring. This was a house a family could grow in and she had a distinct vision of it someday holding a picture perfect family—complete with children, golden retriever, and minivan in the driveway.
She moved through the foyer, looking at the pictures along the wall that led back to the kitchen and dining room. And that’s when she froze in her tracks. Amy was nowhere to be found, but it wouldn’t have mattered if she were in the room or not.
She recognized the man in the picture with three other handsome guys. Taking a step closer to the photo, she gazed at the image of Captain Cooper Armstrong and three other men that were so strikingly similar in appearance, she had to assume they were either brothers or cousins. Stormy continued scanning the photos of them participating in flying, fishing, sailing, and a multitude of other outdoor sports.
What kind of prank was destiny playing on her? She couldn’t be in the home of the man she had engaged in a one-night stand with, and then who had completely forgotten her. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel.