Page 2 of Obsession

“Are you here for the interviews?”

I opened my mouth to say no and hesitated. Thatwouldget me upstairs. All I needed was five minutes. If I got a face to face with him, then I could swallow my pride enough to beg him to reconsider the sale. It rankled, and I’d never begged for anything in my life, but for that house, I would.

It was the single thing in my life that had only good memories attached to it. From the days on the cove with my grandmother, to the workshop I’d created out of the maid’s quarters all those years ago—there was not a single bad memory associated with that house or with Grandmother Stuart. She’d been my rock. Honestly, she was the reason I’d fallen in love with art and actually stuck with it. She’d been my confidante in all things.

So, no—I couldn’t lose the house too.

Definitely not.

“Yes.”

The man tapped the screen of his iPad. “Your name?”

“Grace Copeland.”

He tapped again, swiped, and then tapped some more. “I can’t…” He tapped a bit more forcefully.

I peered over the top and pressed my lips together. He couldn’t even get past the log-in screen. Piece of cake. I turned up the wattage on my smile. “I’m really nervous, and if I don’t get upstairs, I’m going to be late for my interview. From what I’ve heard, being late wouldn’t be a good first impression.”

“No. Punctuality is key for Mr. Carson. And security, which is why I need you to come back to the desk with me so I can log you in.”

I stepped close to him and laid my hand on his shoulder. “How many other people are here for the interview?”

He blinked at me. “Eleven people have come in.”

“Did anyone else have problems?”

He pushed up his glasses on his nose and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “It’s been very busy.”

Bingo. I glanced at his tag and boosted the wattage of my smile. “Tell you what, George. I won’t tell if you won’t. Then neither of us will get into trouble.”

The elevator opened and the guard sighed. “The last applicant came down in tears. Are you sure you’re looking for a job like that, miss?”

“I’m a tough cookie.”

The frazzled older man finally smiled. “You seem like it.” He held his hand over the elevator’s sensor. “If you last twenty minutes, I’ll call it a good decision. Top floor.”

Iknewit. I stepped over the threshold and turned to face him and pushed the button. “Good deal.” When the doors closed, I turned and slapped my palm against the side wall. Even theelevator was pure glass. Was it more of that strange opaque glass or was it simply see-through?

Why did I care?

And yet knowing people might see me fidget made me stop. I tugged down the hem of my white jacket. I wasn’t exactly rocking a business suit. It was perfectly suitable attire for the gallery, but this place was definitely not business casual with a side of funky chic.

Nope, people in this place probably had pinstripes on their underwear.

Blake Carson was the kind of rich that was out of my stratosphere. I understood the wealthy vacationing set, the old money from Marblehead, and men who wore four-hundred-dollar Polo shirts on their boat. Even the patrons at the gallery were an understandable rich.

This was an entirely different world.

The doors opened to a sea of gray. The wall facing the water was a pure sheet of glass. Even the frame for the panes was clear, giving it a faint grid pattern that drew me to the view of Boston Harbor.

My salvation, my first love, even above glass. A turbulent childhood of jet-setting from Milan to London, Greece to Japan, Monaco to Paris—places that should have been incredible and enlightening were only vague memories to me. My parents couldn’t be bothered to slow down for a child. I had a nanny and a tutor to keep me out of the way until finally my grandmother had said enough.

And then Marblehead had become my home.

My parents had lived too fast one too many times, and they’d been lost to the same sea that saved me. That had been minor compared to losing my grandmother. No more disruptive than learning a distant cousin had passed away.

The day I’d found my grandmother on the floor of her sitting room had been incomprehensible.

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