Page 6 of The Hottest Daddy
She parked a little way from the house, not wanting to intrude, but she could see from here that the photographs of the place didn’t do it justice. She felt a pang of sadness—Cory, one of New York’s up-and-coming architects, would have loved this place. Not only was the design out of the world, but the tranquility here, the peace, was breathtaking.
She heard another vehicle coming up the hill behind her and got back into her station wagon guiltily. She smoothed her face into a bland smile as the car pulled up beside hers. A pleasant young man smiled at her as he rolled down his window. “Hey, you lost?”
“I’m fine,” she said, feeling her face burn. He had kind hazel eyes and a sweet smile. “I’m just checking out my new job.”
His eyes lit up. “Oh, are you Sunday?”
Was this River Giotto? No, surely not. This man seemed far too outgoing to be a reclusive artist. He seemed to read her mind. He got out of his car and shook her hand. “Luke Maslany. I’m River’s friend, for my sins.”
“Sunday Kemp. Honestly, I didn’t mean to intrude or pry, I was just getting my bearings. Ready for Monday morning, you know?” She was rambling in her embarrassment, but this guy had the nicest smile.
“Listen, why not get a proper jump? Come up to the house. Carmen will be there—River’s housekeeper. You’ll probably see more of her than anyone. We might even be able to persuade River to show his face.”
Sunday hesitated. She had no makeup on, her hair was a mess … did she really want to make this first impression? “I think maybe I should wait until Monday. I don’t want to intrude.”
Luke Maslany nodded, but his eyes crinkled when he smiled and Sunday couldn’t help but like him. “Listen, entirely up to you, but I know for a fact that Carmen is making brunch, and she always makes a ton. River barely eats, so I,” and he patted his flat stomach, “get the guilts on his behalf and end up stuffed. You’d be doing me a favor.”
Sunday laughed. He was so charming … and once again she found herself marveling at the friendliness of these people. “Well, if you promise I’m not imposing.”
“Of course not. Shall we?”
Chapter Three
River felt a jolt of annoyance at the knock on the door but kept his voice level. “Come in.”
Luke poked his head around the door and grinned at his friend. “Hey, dude.”
“Hey, Luke.” Even in his glum mood, River was always happy to see Luke. “You come to Carmel’s feast?”
“Of course—and I brought a guest.”
“Oh?” River couldn’t have been less interested. He rarely joined Carmel and Luke in the kitchen, preferring to eat alone in his studio.
“Your new employee.”
“The typist?”
“The transcriber,” Luke said with a tone in his voice. “Don’t think she’d be impressed with being described as a typist.”
River shrugged. “Whatever. Carmel hired her. She’ll tell her what to do, where to go.”
“Come meet her, Riv,” Luke said, and he sounded weary, as if he was tired of being the intermediary on River’s behalf. “She’ll be here five days a week, all hours. You’ll meet her sometime.”
“Then I’ll meet her sometime.” River knew he was being obtuse, but he really wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. Lindsay had called him this morning, asking him if he could take Berry for a few weeks for some unknown reason, and although River had agreed, and looked forward to seeing his daughter, he was irritated that possibly his final days of being able to paint the way River Giotto painted would be even more limited.
He was in no mood to meet anyone and nothing Luke could say to change his mind. Luke left him alone, clearly pissed, but River sighed with relief. He continued painting, and yet from the other side of the house, he could hear laughter and chatter and felt the weight of loneliness. He could smell the delicious scent of one of Carmel’s signature curries filling the house and felt his mouth water. He knew she would leave him some leftovers in the refrigerator. He put down his paintbrush and wiped his hands. Barefoot as ever, he padded silently through the house to the guest bedroom. The window there looked out over the kitchen and he could watch them unseen.
He saw Carmen fussing around the breakfast counter, talking to a young woman with waist- length dark hair. River watched her as she moved around the kitchen to help Carmel, the way her body moved, almost like a dancer, graceful and strong. River narrowed his eyes to see her features and felt his groin tighten.
She was lovely. Truly a beautiful young woman. Her features were soft, kind, a faint blush on her olive skin, her smile wide. She was about five-five, a foot shorter than River’s six-five, and slim but curvy. He watched her chat easily to Carmen, joke around with Luke, and wondered who the hell this woman was. She was stunning, but did he really needstunningin his life?
No.Hell,no. He’d stay away from her, take her out of the equation, concentrate on Berry, and on his eyesight. Despite what Luke had told him, there had to be something, somewhere in the world, which could help him.
Because otherwise what was the point? It was too cruel. He looked back at his newest employee one last time and wondered if she’d even known true despair. He doubted it.
River turned away from the sight of his friends enjoying each other and went back to his lonely studio.
Sunday put a hand over her stomach and protested as Carmen packed two large plastic boxes with curry. “I can’t, you’ve spoiled me enough.”
