“‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave…’” she said softly, knowing that the old quote was still applicable today. At least inherlife. She’d tried to deceive Stone and now she was facing the consequences of her behavior. What she didn’t understand was why he wouldn’t talk about it.
She’d tried to bring up the subject several times, but he always dismissed it, saying it didn’t matter. She frowned. It had to matter. He had to loathe her. Except he didn’t act as if he did, so nothing made sense. It was starting to hurt to think this hard.
So instead, she concentrated on the view out the window. They took the 405 freeway south, over the pass and into West Los Angeles. From there, they continued south. She saw large passenger planes fly low over the freeway as they landed at the airport. A few miles past that, the ambulance exited and headed west again.
Her heartbeat increased slightly. They must be getting close. Stone had said his house had a view of the ocean. She’d never lived close to the water before. That would be a nice change. Maybe he was right. Maybe she should think of this as a vacation—a brief chance to visit a world very different from her own.
They drove for several miles, then the road narrowed and they started to climb. Cathy caught glimpses of houses, trees and beyond them, flashes of the blue ocean.
The ambulance pulled into a long driveway. She turned so she could see over her shoulder. Two wide gates kept out the curious. The driver spoke into a small box. A couple of seconds later, the gates slowly opened and they drove onto the property.
Cathy ducked low enough to be able to see out the side window. The house was huge. At least three stories and designed more like a castle than an actual house. The facade was stone, the windows different shapes. Many were beveled. The grounds seemed to stretch on forever. Stone had to have a couple of acres up here, and at the price of real estate in this neighborhood, he’d obviously sunk millions into his home.
She’d always known they were different, but it was intimidating to see those differences played out in such a clear way. No doubt there was a staff in residence. She swallowed. Maybe this had been a bad idea, she thought. Was it too late to change her mind and have the driver take her home to her tiny house in the valley?
Before she could decide, they came to a stop. The driver opened the rear of the ambulance. He glanced from her to the house.
“There are stairs up to the front door, and I’m gonna guess there’s a bunch more inside.”
“I can use crutches,” Cathy said. She’d practiced on them that morning. She wasn’t good, but she had managed.
“Naw. That’s why I brought help.”
His assistant climbed out of the passenger’s side of the vehicle. Both men were strong and obviously used to carrying around patients. Together they slid the gurney out of the back of the ambulance and wheeled her toward the front of the house. As they approached, one side of the double front door opened and a small woman stepped out.
She looked to be in her mid-to-late fifties, with graying hair and coal black eyes. She wore a pale gray dress that looked like a cross between a nurse’s uniform and a dress for a maid, and sensible white shoes.
“Miss Eldridge,” she said, and smiled. “I’m Ula, the housekeeper. Stone said you’d be arriving this morning. Welcome.” Her smile faded as her gaze focused on the two men. “You two be careful with her. She’s had quite a shock, and we don’t need her dropped on top of everything else.”
The two men exchanged an exasperated glance. This was not the first time they’d heard this particular admonition. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll make sure the young lady arrives safe and sound.”
“Through here, please.”
She led them into the house. Cathy had a brief impression of a foyer large enough for a hotel, marble floors and doors and hallways leading to other parts of the house. Before she could absorb anything, they were moving up the stairs, then down a corridor. Ula open a door and stepped aside. The men followed.
Cathy was placed next to a four-poster queen-size bed. She’d barely caught her breath when the men physically lifted her onto the mattress.
“We’ll be right back with her things,” one of them said as they left.
Ula crossed to the windows and pulled back the thick drapes. Instantly bright sunlight filled the huge room. From her place on the bed, Cathy could see well-kept grounds, the corner of what looked like a swimming pool and an incredible view of the ocean. The water stretched out to the horizon, all glinting and vast. To the right was distant land, probably Malibu, she thought.
“It is pretty, isn’t it?” Ula said, drawing her attention back into the room.
Cathy nodded, not sure what else to say.
“Stone told me about the accident,” Ula went on. “You were very lucky. He said it could have been a lot worse.”
“That’s what I heard.”
Ula started moving around the room. “Here’s the television and video player,” the housekeeper said, opening an armoire against the far wall. “We have a satellite dish, so you can get any channel you want.” She stepped to her left. “The closet. Your things were brought over and unpacked.”
“Thank you,” Cathy said, grateful Ula didn’t open the door. She didn’t want to see her meager, worn possessions hanging in the huge open space. She felt out of place as it was.
“This is the bathroom.” Ula did open that door. Cathy caught a glimpse of gleaming tile and a shower big enough to house a football squad. “Let me get rid of those men and I’ll be right back.” She left the room.
Cathy took a minute to catch her breath. Everything was happening so quickly. From the moment the fire alarm had gone off in her office building until now, she felt as if she’d been spinning out of control.
She sucked in a deep breath and tried to relax. The room didn’t make it easy. She’d never been in anything this nice before. The guest suite was about the same size as her entire house. She had her own television and VCR. Amazing. There was a small desk tucked in the corner, a sofa with a nice lamp. That would be a great place to read. Whoever had set up this room had thought of everything.
