Page 8 of Speechless

“Well, you do know my life’s work. Quite intimately, from what I can tell. There’s not much more to know about. I’m what you might call a workaholic.” I throw up quotation fingers thinking I’ll get a laugh, but her mouth doesn’t even twitch. “If anyone would be taking a risk, it’s definitely me. For all I know you’re just some brilliant stalker who’s weaseled her way into my life, with impressive ease I must say. I must be more careful about talking to strangers. My mum raised me better than that.”

I finally get a smile out of her. Toothless, but I’ll take it. She’s warming up to me, I’m just not sure what else to say. Why is writing music so much easier than conversation?

I realize Rowan still has his head draped over my knee. She seems rather attached to the animal but hasn’t minded his absence on the plane. I comb my fingers through his shaggy fur. It’s almost as soft as her hair.

“Rowan seems to like me. Maybe you should talk it over with him before making a decision? I bet he’d love Malibu.” I pull the dog into my lap and start rubbing his belly while I whisper to him about how much fun he’ll have at the beach. “Wouldn’t you Rowan? You could dig in the sand, and swim, and chase after hummingbirds.”

He starts to lick my face aggressively, and I give Lucy a look that says, “See? Told you so.”

“Cute, but, and I am sorry to do this to you, he loves everyone. Literallyeveryone.”

“You wound me!” I set Rowan down and feign being stabbed in the chest. She giggles but I can tell I haven’t won her over yet.

“Listen, I have a large house right by the beach. Very serene. Lots of space. It feels wasteful having empty rooms. You’d be doing me a favor. My writing team is there most of the time. We live together so it’s not just me, you’ll have several witnesses around if needed.” I pause to gauge her reaction but she’s just listening intently. “Let’s see, what else? There are two guest rooms you can choose from, the largest is on the opposite side of the house from my room. Lots of space in between them. You may never even see me. Does that sound better?” Her mouth is sealed shut but her eyes are smiling. “I have a car, an SUV, actually. Lots of space in the back for your pup. You’re welcome to use it any time. I hardly leave the house when I’m working. What else, what else? There’s a pool! I rarely use it, more of an ocean swimmer myself, so you wouldn’t be bothered if you care to go for a swim—”

“Okay.” She leans back in her seat, not quite smiling, but not looking nearly as sad as she was earlier. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment in a motion that is almost a grimace, then scoffs quietly. She turns to me but I can’t wholly read her expression. “Why not.”

5

Lucy

What the hellam I doing? Did I actually agree to goliveat his house?

I must have because we’re currently in his Range Rover, on our way to Malibu. No turning back now, I guess.

I can’t say I’m not grateful. It’s almost four in the morning back in Boston. To say I’m sleep-deprived and cranky would be a significant understatement. Finding a hotel right now sounds like a genuine nightmare, and while I feel like I can take just about anything life throws at me these days, Rowan deserves better. When we got in the car Henry told me to go ahead and rest my eyes since it was a long drive and he’d wake me when we arrived. Unfortunately, my nerves have kept sleep from finding me, but I’ve stayed silent with my eyes shut, afraid of any further conversation.

“Siri, call HAAAM.”

Ham? What the hell? Who is he calling right now? I hear a man answer with an Australian accent. Actually, maybe two men because now one sounds American. They’re asking when he’s getting home and how the meeting went. He tells them they’ll discuss the project later but that they’re “doing it” and they seem downright exuberant. It sounds like he’s about to hang up, but I hear him quickly say he’s bringing home a guest, which is then followed by a long beat of silence.

“Guest? Is your mum in town Henry?”

“No, Graham. I met someone on the plane and she’s going to stay with us for a bit. Her living arrangements recently fell through.”

“You met someone. Youmetsomeone!? How? Please explain this to me, because nothing makes sense anymore.”

“Graham, enough. I’ll fill you in later. She’s sleeping in the car now and I’m sure she just wants to be left alone. It’s been a long day for all of us. Please just make yourselves scarce when we get in, all right?”

“Fine, mate, whatever you say.”

We pullinto a long drive that becomes a semi-circle in front of the . . . well, house is not a sufficient word.

He said “large house on the beach” right? That was severely misleading.

This is an estate, a chateau, a Tuscan villa, replete with perfect symmetry and immaculately manicured hedges. It reminds me of all those fancy wineries I went to in Napa for my honeymoon. What am Idoinghere?

When I step inside there are four very attractive men lined up in the foyer, each holding an instrument. Three of them begin to play while the one in front holding a violin leans forward and, in a whisper, asks for my name. He’s the largest of the group, almost as tall as Henry, and his Australian accent makes me think he’s also the one from the phone call.

Suddenly, they’re all belting out “Lucy, welcome home” in perfect harmony.

Henry walks in with our luggage, and I can tell he’s angry. He did tell at least one of them on the phone to “make themselves scarce.”

“Leave the girl alone, you twats! Lucy, I’m so sorry. My housemates have no manners. I’m planning to trade them all in for Englishmen as soon as I can. Also, this is HAAAM. HAAAM, say hello to Lucy, and then leave her be.”

“Ham?”

The Australian one answers. “I’m Graham. This is Preston, Jayce and Craig.” He points respectively. “Henry was too busy to learn all our names properly at first. He started calling us HAAAM so he wouldn’t have to worry about messing us up. Kind of rude to be honest, but it stuck.”

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