at hand, her friend wouldn’t call her out for daydreaming. Honestly, it’s her fault for bringing up his name.
No such luck. Belinda’s brow hitched upward, as it was apt to do before she commenced grilling someone for information. “You were fantasizing about him again, weren’t you.” It was a question, yet she posed it as a statement, as if there weren’t any doubt in her mind about the answer.
Hadley sucked in a breath. Oh, the things I could tell her. She knew there was no point in trying to conceal her plans from Belinda, but that didn’t mean she wanted all eight of her friend’s employees to know her personal business. “Go clear out the staff, B.”
She shrugged. “Fair enough. But once they leave, I want the dirt, Hadley.”
Shaking her head, Hadley watched her friend walk away and begin the process of rounding up her employees. She plopped down on the cushion of the window seat, waiting until the last of the staff members had left and watched as Belinda strode back over.
“Let’s get this walk-through knocked out.” Belinda gestured for Hadley to get up. “And while we do it, you can tell me what you’re plotting.”
Hadley shook her head as the two of them began walking the property. “You know me too well.”
“Yep. So you may as well let the tiger out of the sack.”
Hadley sighed. “Well, you know I’ve had a thing for Devon ever since he first rented from us several years ago.”
Belinda scoffed. “A thing for him? Girl, please. You’ve been pining after that man like you’re a woman in a desert and he’s the oasis.”
She pursed her lips. “Thanks for that colorful description, B. Anyway, I’ve stayed away from him because I knew he was grieving, and I respected that. But I think five years is more than reasonable, don’t you?” Around town, it was common knowledge that escaping to the vacation house had been part of Devon’s way of coping with the loss of his wife. Regardless of her strong feelings for him, Hadley could never bring herself to infringe on his grief.
Belinda nodded as they rounded the corner, passing the tree to head upstairs. “Yes, Hadley. Five years is very respectable. You’ve been very patient, considering how obsessed you are with him.”
On the landing, Hadley gave Belinda a playful punch on the shoulder. “Shut up, B. It’s not an obsession. It’s not like I have an altar to him or something.”
A chuckling Belinda cracked open the door to the master bedroom. “You know I’m just playing with you. But you have to admit, you’ve got it pretty bad.”
Hadley could feel her face relaxing, and she could see her softening expression reflected at her in the bedroom mirror. “Yeah, you’re right. And this year, I’m going to do something about it. It’s my Christmas gift to myself.”
She looked around the space. Belinda’s crew had done a great job, and she admired the freshly made four-poster, king-size bed. The bed, along with the matching nightstands and dresser, were all fashioned of polished oak and adorned with an etched ivy-leaf pattern. The soft grey carpet felt like a cloud beneath her feet.
They left the bedroom and continued through the upper floor.
“More power to you. Get your man, girl.” Belinda peeked into the bathroom. “Do you have a plan for how you’re going to approach him?”
Hadley answered as they finished checking the upstairs room and descended the stairs. “I’ve got a start. I’m going to meet him at arrival and give him a gift to thank him for renting from us for the past five years. That will get me in, at least.” It was something the company did all the time for repeat clients, and making the delivery herself gave her a perfect excuse to spend time in Devon’s company.
Back in the living room, Belinda turned to Hadley and tossed her the keys. “That will get you in, true enough. But once you’re alone, what are you going to say to him?”
Hadley imagined his face and shook her head. “I don’t have the faintest idea. I guess I’m winging it.” After all these years of denying herself this particular piece of dark chocolate, she just hoped she’d be coherent enough to get her point across.
The two women left the unit laughing, and Hadley locked the door behind them.
* * *
Devon Granger moved around the master bedroom of his Los Angeles home, tossing things into the open suitcase lying on his bed. His flight to North Carolina would depart in a few hours, and he needed to get it together if he expected to make it in time to board the plane. Flying out of LAX was one of his least favorite things to do—the place never seemed to have a time when it wasn’t crowded. Still, it was the closest airport to his Silver Lake home. Going a little early meant he wouldn’t have to rush.
Devon’s work as an actor had left him more than financially secure, but he wasn’t the type of guy to spend his money on private jets, yachts and other things he saw as unnecessary. He just flew first or business class, concealed his identity, and kept to himself on flights and in airports. Other than the occasional overzealous fan who’d demand an autograph or selfie, his system had served him well over the years.
He stopped to regard the suitcase, his eyes scanning the contents. He’d packed mainly comfortable clothing for his annual holiday vacation, and he looked forward to lounging around his favorite beach rental overlooking the Atlantic. Force of habit made him also pack slacks, button-downs and a few ties, just in case.
As he leaned over the bed to tuck his socks into an outer compartment, a twinge shot through his lower back. Grimacing, he jerked upright again before uttering a low curse. He was still relatively young, just shy of thirty-five. Despite his youth, his recent injury had made him question whether he should keep performing his own stunts in his action roles.
Before Thanksgiving, he’d shot the final scene for the upcoming Destruction Derby 3. When he’d made the daring leap, escaping an explosion that would be added in later via the magic of special effects, he’d landed improperly, resulting in a herniated disk. It wasn’t the first time he’d been injured while executing a stunt, but it was his most serious injury to date.
The bed began buzzing, drawing his attention back to the moment at hand. He searched around until he located his phone, tucked between the suitcase and his comforter. Grabbing it, he answered the call on speaker. “Hi, Ma. How are you?”
Eva Sykes Granger’s voice filled the room. “I’m fine, but how are you? Is your back okay?”
“It’s fine, Ma.” It wasn’t a lie, per se. Once he took his medication and gave it time to get into his system, he’d be feeling somewhat better.
“Are you sure you’re up to that long flight? Don’t you think you should sit out the vacation this year?” Her words were laced with motherly concern.
“I wouldn’t think of it.” He’d come to look forward to this getaway, far from the fast-paced hustle and bustle of LA. He craved the respite of the quiet oceanfront hamlet where he’d been born. “Besides, it’s not a nonstop flight. I’ve got a layover in Dallas, and I’ll be sure to stretch.”
She sighed. “Well, you’re an adult. I don’t suppose I can stop you from going.”
He shook his head, tucking his last
