Page 29 of Tangled Trust

Carter and Jagger are away for two weeks. The two are spending some vacation time with Carter’s sister, Sophie, at her beach house. Jagger’s cousins will keep him busy, so Carter suggested that I take some time off to explore LA.

It’s been four months since I was hired to take care of little Jagger, and I can hardly believe how quickly the time has passed. It’s odd, but I feel at home here in LA, as if I’ve been here for years. I do miss practicing medicine, but I know my hiatus won’t last too long.

In the meantime, I’m making hay while the sun shines and enjoying the opportunity by taking a walk in the park around the corner from the house.

It’s Fall now, and the leaves are slowly changing colors. I plan on taking a hike through the Santa Monica Mountains, as the trees there are simply otherworldly beautiful. I wish I didn’t have to go alone. It would be nice to share my life with someone. Someone who won’t slap the shit out of me if I step out of line.

I wonder what Sebastian is doing. I haven’t thought about him for a few days. He’s always in the back of my mind. I have few regrets in my life, but falling for a manipulator like him is most certainly at the top of my shortlist. Will I ever be free of him?

"Hi. I've seen you around for a while now. I’m Hannah. I live next door," a woman’s friendly voice breaks into my thoughts.

"Hi, yes, I’ve seen you too. I’m Ella."

"A fellow European, no?" she says in a thick French accent.

"It would seem we’re rather exotic around here," I smile back.

"Where is your little boy?"

"They’re away on vacation, so I’m free to do a bit of exploring. How long have you been in LA?"

"This is my second year in America," Hannah says.

"Do you like it?"

"Hey, what’s not to like? Beautiful weather, super luxury—everything a young woman like me enjoys. How about you?"

"It’s my fourth month, so I’m still a newbie. But, I’m glad I decided to move here. LA is special, for sure. Would you like to walk with me?"

"Oui."

"Your family is new to the neighborhood," I comment.

"Yes, the Taylors moved here from New York. Everyone wants to live in LA. It’s a wonderful lifestyle for the children."

"What was New York like?"

"Very busy. I prefer it here."

"Would you like to join me for a hike in the Santa Monica mountains?" I ask on a whim. "I’m dying to see the fall trees, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to go alone."

"Oui! I would love that."

"Great. When can you go?"

"The family is away on Sunday. Will that work for you?"

"Perfect."

And there you have it. My first friend. Hannah and I walk and talk for a long time before she leaves. She’s a nice girl. Outspoken, like most French women I’ve met, but sweet nonetheless.

It’s time to think about what I’m having for dinner. The chef at home is amazing, and I eat very well, but I feel like getting out and sampling some local cuisine for a change. I feel a bit like one of the Californian rich bitches in the car Carter gave me to use. I’ve practiced the resting-bitch-face look, but I’m afraid it just doesn’t suit me. Hey, I tried.

I grin as I think about the fall temperatures that never drop below 70 degrees in La La Land. That’s about the average summer day where I’m from. It’s hysterical to see the locals donning sweaters. I’m proud of my Americanized lingo. On occasion, I slip back into the English vernacular and realize my faux pas soon enough when the locals look at me as if I’m balmy, aka, nuts. My best is when they speak louder when they hear my British accent. It’s a trip.

The beachfront is buzzing despite the season, so I find a place to park my fancy SUV and head for a restaurant that isn’t full. I’m unashamedly looking for the biggest cheeseburger and fries I can find. The beef tastes different here. I suspect it's all the sunshine local cattle get to soak up.

The waiter smiles at me when I start speaking. At least this one isn’t yelling at me. It’s a good burger. Not as amazing as the one Carter’s chef makes, but, then again, this isn’t nouvelle cuisine but rather a shot of good old-fashioned comfort food. I down the last sip of beer before I pay my bill and then walk the beach. It’s postcard-perfect. Three cheers for California!

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