Page 24 of Whiteout

“Raymond St. John started the firm—Derek’s father. He passed away several years ago. It’s just he and Mr. Maynard now.”

“I see.”

At the landing, behind a sitting area, a central staircase went up another level. Francie steered her to the right, away from it. Each recess in the hallway housed a double door, sconces on either side.

She stopped at the third one on the left and opened it. “Here we are.”

Following her inside, Breanna contained a gasp. Jesus. This wasn’t merely a room, it was a suite of them. A fire burned in the living area with a flat-screen TV mounted above it. A bedroom lay beyond an open set of double doors. But it was the floor-to-ceiling glass, the majestic mountainscape on the other side of it, that took her breath away.

“Oh, wow…”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I’ll say.” But the word didn’t do it justice.

“You never tire of it, because you won’t ever see it the same way twice.” Clasping her shoulder, Francie tipped her chin toward the expansive covered deck, complete with an outdoor seating area, fireplace, and a fancy schmancy hot tub. “I have a feeling you’ll be out there a lot.”

Breanna followed her into the bedroom. Francie sat her duffel bag on a chair. It looked woefully out of place in its sumptuous surroundings. “Do you live here?”

“Not here in the main house,” she said. Opening the drapes, she pointed out the window. “My husband and I live in the caretaker’s house just over there. A breezeway attaches it.”

“I see it.”

“I’m always here should you need anything.” Tilting her head, Francie smiled, her gray eyes kind. “I’ll let you unpack, and I’m sure you’re dying for a nice, warm shower. Bathroom’s through there. You’ve got plenty of towels. Mr. St. John or myself will come and get you for dinner.”

“Does he live here too?”

“Oh, no.” She snickered. “His office is in Sacramento, but he’ll be staying with us through the holiday. He only came here for you.”

What about Grandmama, his client? Speaking of…

“I’d like to see my grandmother. She’s who I came all this way for.”

Not some stuffy old lawyer.

“Wait for Mr. St. John.” Biting her lip, Francie’s hand fell to her forearm. She squeezed. “I have to get to work on dinner. Hope you like duck.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had it,” Breanna admitted.

“You’re going to love it,” she assured her. “Trust me.”

As much as she wanted to flop down on the plush-looking king-sized bed and take a nap, Breanna figured unpacking, showering, and making herself presentable for Valerie Dalton was a much wiser decision. Not that she wanted to impress the old lady—okay, maybe she did a little—but for her mom, truth be told. To win the approval she never got.

Rifling through the travel bag she once thought cute, Breanna removed her laptop and set it on the bed. The iPhone Jordy rescued from her Miata was dead. “Where’s my charger, dammit?”

In the car, of course. Duh.

Cursing her dumb luck, she hefted her stuff into a bathroom that was at least the size of the bedroom and shrieked at what she saw in the mirror. “Oh God, this is hideous.”

The swollen lump over her right eye, a lovely shade of purple, broken skin in the center of it scabbed, was impossible to miss. “Ugh, some impression you’re going to make, Bree. How am I supposed to cover this?”

After a decadently long, hot shower, she carefully applied her makeup. Patting foundation and concealer over the spot did little, so she opted for a simple eye and went bold with her lip. Parting her hair on the side, Breanna swooped it over the bump.

“Best I can do.” She wrinkled her nose at herself.

It’s not like she had a plethora of clothing options with her, but Breanna had chosen what she brought with her grandmother in mind. She opted for a chunky, cream-colored half-turtleneck sweater that reached a bit past mid-thigh. Together with leggings and a pair of suede booties, she deemed it suitable enough. The outfit would have looked better with her cute over-the-knee boots, but she ruined them during her trek through the storm.

As ready as she was going to be for dinner with Grandmama and her stodgy, old lawyer, Breanna returned to the living room, taking a seat in front of the fire. Darkness veiled the mountains, yet the snow-capped peaks seemed to glow beneath a moon she couldn’t see.

---