Page 6 of Things We Tell Ourselves

Delilah sucks in a breath, flipping her notebook open, a cellphone screen lighting up her face. Delilah taps away at it feverishly.

“It should have been attached to the email I sent Integrity Heights with the plane ticket instructions.”

“I must not have seen it,” Camille answers sheepishly. She’d been so excited at a second opportunity after their first was such a fiasco that she didn’t open any other attachments, only the one with her ticket.

“No big deal,” Leah says nonchalantly. “We’re waiting on your business partner, and one of my executives is flying in late tomorrow evening to take part in the negotiations. It’ll be a nice weekend. The sort of thing Integrity Heights should have received when you met with that supposed competitor of mine.”

Executive. Camille swallows.Evelyn better get here first.Working with this kind, smart woman is one thing, but one of her executives?

“Okay,” she says, feeling anything but okay.

Her only solace is knowing that Evelyn will take care of everything once she gets in.

“And if you didn’t pack enough, we can bring you shopping,” Leah adds, nodding at Delilah, who pulls out a pen and jots a quick note down in her padfolio. “Los Angeles has great shopping. Have Buck go check on Nancy,” she tells Delilah, “after you show Camille her room, and then set up an appointment in the morning at that boutique I like.” She gives Camille a wink. “On me.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Don’t mention it. You just remember who really took care of you when deciding who you want to partner with. It’s time for my medicine,” Leah says, rolling her scooter past her and Delilah, who’s still writing in her padfolio. “I’ll hand you over to my beautiful assistant, and she’ll show you to your room.”

Delilah gives her a gracious smile, closing the notepad as Leah rolls toward the smaller hallway.

“I’ll have breakfast ready at nine,” Leah says over her shoulder.

“I can’t wait,” Camille calls after her.

Delilah opens the back door. “Alright,” she exclaims enthusiastically, ushering Camille out onto the back patio. “Let’s go check out where you’ll be staying the next few days.”

They walk out onto the back patio toward the pool. Delilah leads her between the water and the pool chairs, evenly spaced down the side. Camille fights the urge to kneel down and check the temperature of the blue water.

“It is lovely, isn’t it? You’ll be staying on the second floor.” Delilah sighs, staring straight ahead.

Ahead of them, a two-story guesthouse glows like a beacon in the darkness. Lights planted in the ground of the corner flowerbeds illuminate a guesthouse that is the size of most people’s homes. The ground floor is cut in half, with an open-air kitchen on the left and a full double sink, cabinetry, barbeque pit, and refrigerator. To the right side of the outdoor kitchen is a floor-to-ceiling glass wall that overlooks the pool and backyard. Her eyes drift up to the second floor. The glass walls stretch up and out, filling the entire side of the second floor. She can already imagine how the pool must look from up there.

“Wow,” she whispers in awe.

Delilah spins around to face her, not missing a step as she guides her, walking backward with the grace of a swan. “I know right,” she looks over her shoulder, staring out over the pool. “This view is unbeatable. The Bloom’s buy and sell property every year depending on the market, but Leah’s parents kept this one in the family for good reason.”

Camille follows Delilah’s gaze past the pool, stopping in her tracks. She forgets about the sprawling house and its property as she stares out at the breathtaking view. She didn’t realize that Buck drove them so high up in the hills. The Los Angeles lights twinkle like stars in such a gentle way that it feels like it’s all just for her. She opens her mouth, but no words come out. From inside the main house, she couldn’t see any of this beyond the privacy shrubs, tucking it all away from prying eyes, but from the pool … she glances over at the guesthouse. The guesthouse will have a perfect view as well.

As they admire the view, Buck’s footsteps become audible as he descends the stairs on the side of the guesthouse. For a stalky guy, he sure is quiet.

Delilah turns when she hears him coming down the stairs. “Ms. Bloom would like you to go check on Ms. Ortego before you turn in for the night.”

“Will do.” He heads straight for the line of tall shrubs to a hidden gate covered by slender shrubbery. Through the gate opening, Camille can see out onto the driveway and beyond to the five-car garage. The sound of paper shuffling drowns out the sound of the gate shutting behind him.

“I’m going to need you to sign and date this for me.”

Camille turns to see Delilah holding out a packet of papers. “What’s this?” she asks, taking it from her.

“It’s a standard non-disclosure agreement. Everyone who enters the premises has to sign one. It basically means you won’t tell people what you witness or hear while you are around the Bloom family, especially any business dealings. It’s to protect the business and personal lives of the family until if, or when, the family and/or company is ready,” her voice fades as she walks up the stairs.

Camille tries to read the top page in the outdoor lighting.

“Now,” Delilah starts.

Camille hurries to catch up to her at the top of the stairs.

“I’m not sure if Ms. Bloom told you, but I would recommend not touching any of the artwork. The Blooms have all of the expensive stuff hooked up to the security system. I straightened a Van Gogh at her New York residence three months ago when I started, and alarms went off everywhere. It nearly gave me a heart attack.”

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