Page 189 of Ewan

“The ocean is not far from here. It’s not that bad inside, though,” he assures me as we reach the entrance.

The place has a secured entrance, and looking up, I notice the green light dots of a few security cameras.

He enters a code, and the door clicks open.

It’s like the door to a prison cell.

“Let me go in first,” he says, and the lights come on when he flips a switch.

“Come on in,” he says, pulling the door wide open.

I peek inside first before straightening and stepping over the threshold.

The inside is not that bad and looks better than the exterior. Nice wooden floors and stairs with carved railings that lead upstairs.

The foyer has marble floors and opens in the kitchen.

I gesture in that direction.

“We’re going there?”

“Yes.”

I’m about to take my boots off.

“You don’t need to.”

“I don’t like walking like that in a house.”

He freezes in the middle of the foyer.

“Okay. Then, wait a minute. I’ll bring the luggage so you can change.”

“Sounds good.”

He leaves the groceries on a table by the wall, and I stay put, waiting for him and moving my eyes around his house.

It’s not a bad place. It’s just that there’s no life in it. The temperature is pleasant, and to satisfy my curiosity, I lean back to peek inside the room to my right.

It looks like a reading room.

That’s what I would do in there.

A nice sofa lines the wall. There’s also a bookcase and some shelves.

Nothing ridiculously bohemian, but it has a certain bohemian feel.

To me, it looks like he went around the house and got rid of pretty much anything he deemed unnecessary, which gave this place a basic makeover. The walls are cream, the furniture is dark, and the upholstery is done in a dark amber color.

I see no decorative accents. No vases, framed photos, throws, or colorful pillows.

Sheer curtains frame the windows, and a rug lies in the middle.

I take a step back to see more of it.

Oh, there is a fireplace. The mantel is clean, except for a long candle tucked into a golden holder.

Nice.

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