Page 76 of Too Far To Sea
Dana laughed. “Well, if you have some of those little cookies.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a case, or three. Alan thinks I need to eat enough for an army.”
The four-hour drive to Robyn’s Place stretched ahead of Dana, giving her plenty of time to think. She’d loaded her phonewith audiobooks, but her mind would keep circling back to McKay’s email.
To email or not to email—that was the question.
It weighed on her every bit as much as Hamlet’s famous line.
Alan Hastings’s email wasn’t what McKay expected—though honestly, he wasn’t sure what he had expected. The message was short and businesslike, thanking McKay for his integrity in contacting them while acknowledging that his instinct to follow orders wasn’t entirely wrong. Professional. Cordial. Empty.
Most disappointing was the complete absence of any mention of Dana. Would Hastings Security pass on his message? He might never know. The uncertainty gnawed at him worse than seasickness in a hurricane.
After plugging his phone into the charger, he set his phone down with more force than necessary on his nightstand. The ring box from Galway sat there, mocking him. Frustrated, he yanked open the drawer and dumped the box in. At least he wouldn’t have to look at it anymore, wouldn’t have to remember the way Dana’s eyes had lit up in that jewelry shop, or how she’d blushed when the shopkeeper assumed they were together.
Other than at bedtime, he kept himself busy enough that he hardly missed Dana—except when his mother mentioned her, which happened with increasing frequency. Or when Gracie asked if there were any more little lambs hidden in his suitcases. Or when he took his mother to the hospital and saw someone leaving on crutches, remembering how Dana had managed hers with surprising grace.
He searched the internet again. No Dana Knight. Was it even possible for a twenty-something-year-old woman to be thatabsent from the internet? Weren’t women practically required to have Instagram accounts full of food photos and sunset shots? But then again, she worked in personal security. Maybe staying off social media was part of her job.
The baby monitor on his nightstand crackled—a new addition since his mother’s surgery left her weaker than expected. He checked to make sure the other end in his mother’s room was working properly, and listened to her steady breathing for a moment. Then he punched his pillow and attempted to sleep, trying not to think about how different his night had been in Bath, walking the lamp-lit streets with Dana until dawn threatened.
22
A black walnuttree shaded the path to the bungalow that was to be Dana’s shared residence. With summer, the Ogilvies hired a third personal protection “nanny” for the children, allowing all to keep reasonable hours. The bunkhouse cottage also gave increased privacy to the family, since the employees were not under the same roof. All and all, Dana counted it a win.
Dana carried her suitcase into her room. As the texts from the rest of the detail promised, there wasn’t a bad bedroom in the house. Each came with its own ensuite bathroom, and a sitting room, a luxury she hadn’t expected.
Dana pushed open the window, letting in the sweet Indiana breeze. Behind the decorative shutters, she discovered a blackout shade—perfect for sleeping off night shifts. Candace Ogilvie really had thought of everything. This job would spoil her for all other work.
Which was the point. Candace and Colin wanted stability in their children’s lives, which included the necessary protection needed by a billionaire’s child. Alan Hastings met with the school district last month on Candace’s quest to make sure her children’s lives were as normal as possible. Eventually, theirclassmates would figure out the children’s father designed their favorite electronics, but hopefully not until after they had made good friends.
After unpacking, Dana checked the Hastings App. The family was at Robyn’s Place. Now was a good time to familiarize herself with the home.
She found Chris Johnson in the small security office off the garage and checked in.
“I thought you were working at Robyn’s Place.”
“I have a cough. Until it’s confirmed to be allergies, I’m on family detail.” Chris shrugged. With many of Robyn’s Place’s future guests being immunocompromised, health protocols were necessarily strict.
“Is it ready for the opening?”
“I think so. The first group comes next week. The foundation picked children that all live within a couple of hours drive and who are relatively healthy for the first round. Still, my cough is enough to bench me from today’s walkthrough.”
“Speaking of walkthrough, I wanted to look in the residence. I haven’t seen it since it was completed.”
“You have the pass codes?”
“Yes.”
Chris thrummed his fingers on the desk. Something was bothering him.
“What?”
“Trying to decide if I should warn you about Colin’s new AI.”
“New voice?”
“Nope. New and updated programming. I swear it can read your thoughts. Last night, it told me the exact time Tian’s flight would land and what I should have prepared for dinner. Even told me to take her flowers.”
