Page 150 of Chandelier Enthralled
Willa looked over her shoulder at the Hollywood sign. “Best friends are made in the quiet battles.”
“Are we back to being just friends, Willa?”
She leaned in close. “Lovers, then.”
“Lovers who are fiercely loyal?” I asked, trying to fathom it. “I’ve never had that with a woman.”
“That’s because you’ve never had me,” she said.
We were in the kitchen, having lunch and talking nonstop.
As we helped each other make sandwiches, we’d continued to show our affection, me planting a kiss on the top of her head as she walked by, and her snagging a hug from time to time.
In her embrace, I felt the world disappearing, in her arms, everything began to make sense.
We were comfortable in every conceivable way, our conversations flowing effortlessly as we discussed our favorite movies and books and everything we loved to do, but it was about so much more. It was about understanding each other, little by little.
I told her about my time at Oxford, and she lit up hearing my stories. Willa shared her own stories from Brown. We both had an undeniable love for New York, and I promised I’d show her the best of L.A.
When it came to food, she was more of a savory type—just like me.
We were both passionate about our professions, mine a creative endeavor that made me come alive, and Willa’s, a drive to change the world one story at a time—her vibe unstoppable.
We talked a little more about my mom, and I had even dug out photos of me with Celeste to show Willa, showing her proof that Celeste had hung out here with me, and more than anything, that I had the precious gift of memories from our time together.
“I still have the books she gave me,” I said. “I just wish she knew I was an architect.”
Willa offered me a knowing look. “She does.”
Whether I believed that or not, I was grateful to Willa for offering me the reassurance that the dead could somehow reach out from the other side.
I appreciated her compassion.
And most of all, I sensed that Celeste would have adored her, too.
But then, the mood turned serious with me having to face what I had put off until now.
I’d invited Willa to use my other computer, which was in a kitchen nook, a place I liked to sit and read emails because I could see the lawn and flower garden from here.
Well, that was before my life imploded.
That backyard sanctuary had become something stark until last night, when we’d made love in that same pool of water, bringing me a level of solace I had not believed possible.
Willa was fast becoming an obsession.
She sat before the screen and gave me a reassuring glance. Her hand trembled as she moved the mouse; it was subtle, but I caught it.
She’d been the one to suggest this, mentioning that my Ring camera would have endless data. It would also reveal I had not stepped out of the house during the night Amelia had drowned.
Atticus had told me he’d found nothing on it. It was the first thing he had checked. My lawyer had prevented anyone else from accessing it, but that order would only hold everyone off for a while.
I’d not wanted to check it because watching Amelia drown would send me over the edge.
If Willa and I were to be more than lovers, there could be no secrets between us, no unspoken tension that might tarnish what felt like the start of something beautiful.
“I’ll leave you to it,” I said, not wanting to crowd her.
She swiveled in the desk chair. “Won’t be long.”
