“Oh no. That’s so sad.”
“Of old age,” he adds.
Old age? So he likes to date older people? “Oh.”
“As I said earlier, I’m older than you think based on my appearance.”
“You could just tell me. It’s not like I’m gonna judge you or something.”
The corners of his lips turn up just a bit. “I doubt you’d understand.”
I pull my head back slightly. What’s there to understand about someone’s age? Before I can ask anything else, Wilder turns down a residential street lined with old, historic homes in the nicest part of the city. If this is where he lives, his family must come from money.
I watch through the windshield as Wilder navigates the somewhat narrow road before turning onto a cobbled driveway.It’s circular, and it wraps around the side of the house where I can just see a peek of the ocean view at the back.
“This is your house? Wicked nice.”
“Come inside.”
I scramble to exit the car and catch up with Wilder, noting his outfit again. Black clothing from head to toe, a trench coat, and combat boots. He looks like the sexy villain in an action movie. Maybe he is the villain and this is all an elaborate trap. I snort to myself. I’m pretty funny sometimes.
Wilder glances over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Something amusing?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
I stand behind him as he pulls keys from his pocket and unlocks the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. I follow him, finding myself in a mud room. I kick off my sneakers, but Wilder doesn’t remove anything, not even the trench coat.
After leaving the mudroom, I follow Wilder down a hallway and into a sitting room filled with what I assume are antiques, judging by their old world style. Wilder shrugs his trench off at that point, tossing it onto the couch.
The walls are lined with art and sculptures on marble pedestals, and there’s a glass cabinet filled with all sorts of expensive looking trinkets. I’m starting to wonder how he has so much wealth when his job is… chasing ghosts?
“I’ll show you to your room.”
I nod, gripping my bag, trailing behind the stoic man. The stairs are grand, curving as they ascend, leading to a large open space at the top. Past that are several closed doors with more paintings on the walls.
“Your place isn’t what I was expecting.”
“What were you expecting?” Wilder glances over his shoulder as we walk down the hall.
I look over the banister at the open space in the center of the stairs. “Modern. Sleek. Like the way you dress.”
He pauses in front of a door, his hand on the knob. “I have a lot of family heirlooms, but you’ll see where I watch television. It may match your expectations more.”
I nod, stepping past him as he opens the door for me. The room smells musty, and it’s dark now that the sun is setting and the drapes are closed.
“As I said before, I’ll need to wash the bedding. The room hasn’t been used in some time.”
“I understand.” I set my bag down, glancing around the room. “You live in this big house by yourself?”
“I do.” He gathers the bedding, and I sneeze from the dust in the air. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I scrunch my nose. “Maybe I can open the window to air it out a bit?”
“By all means.”
I cross the room and pull the drapes open, waving the dust away from my face, then unlatch the window and push it up, inhaling the fresh breeze that blows in.
“That’s better.”
