Page 20 of Phillip

She followed Pam as they walked down the hall.

But he wasn’t in the living room when they arrived. “I can wait here.” She didn’t mind the opportunity to take in the expansive oceanfront through the picture windows. Luscious green and flowering gardens met the rocky edge of an incline that led to the white sand beach.

“Can I get you a drink?” Pam asked. “Water? A whisky?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine.” Her nerves had her so rattled that a drink might shake in her hand.

“Then I’ll let Phillip know that you’re here.”

Brock entered, greeting her with a friendly hello, and adding, “I told Phillip that Ashley arrived.”

“Then my work here is done.” Pam left the way they’d come in.

“The Blackthorne estate is so much more than I could have imagined.” Ashley gestured to the view. “It’s just… breathtaking.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do than tell you about its history.” Brock took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then cautiously added, “But I understand you have a meeting.”

“I do.” She grinned, knowing Brock to be the consummate family storyteller.

He gestured toward a far hallway. “Phillip said something about getting straight to business.”

“All business,” she said, then regretted her unconvincing tone. Brock was a business partner, and after everything he’d seen between her and Phillip today, she needed to ensure he saw her as a professional.

“If you head upstairs to meet him now, we might find time to regale you with family history later.”

“Upstairs?” That sounded far from professional, and her nerves skittered at the thought of wandering the estate alone. “I can wait.” But it seemed as though Brock would rather she not. Uncomfortable, she changed the subject. “I didn’t have a moment to say thank you for how you handled everything. Especially Lori.”

“It comes with the job.”

She smoothed her skirt. “Yes, but you made the television spot… salvageable.”

His eyebrow arched as he chuckled. “We’re calling that salvageable?”

She blushed. “Yes, well, except the confusion at the end.” And the beginning. And she couldn’t forget the part in the middle. Brock watched her as though he were trying to read her mind. “Anyhow, thanks for keeping a handle on the reporter.”

He grinned. “Sorry I wasn’t able to keep a handle on the rest.”

“Oh no.” She thought of the memes, GIFs, and internet chatter. “You saw that?”

His grin broke into laughter. “I was there in person but apparently oblivious to a few things.”

A hot blush heated her cheeks. “There wasn’t anything to see.”

“Uh-huh. Phillip said the same thing.” Brock checked his pocket for his wallet and keys. “I’m headed to the Wharf in search of something for Bitsy.”

“You don’t have to do that. She’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her.”

“Sometimes any press is good press, but a gift never hurts.” Brock gestured toward the far hallway. “Upstairs. Third door on the right. Can’t miss him.”

Then Brock left, and Ashley was alone in the great hall of a living room. It shouldn’t have been awkward. There wasn’t even another person to be awkward in front of. But she fidgeted, smoothing her skirt and readjusting her purse.

The seconds seemed like hours, and finally, Ashley was unable to wait anymore. Getting their visit over with was best anyway. She wandered down the hall, inching deeper into the stunning home. “Hello?”

No one answered, and she slowly made her way to where Brock directed her. One thing after another caught her eye. Pictures and portraits hung on the walls. Framed historic maps of Scotland and Maine lined the walls as she inched up the stairs. “Hello?”

The giant house hummed with a silence that made her feel like she’d sneaked in. There weren’t familiar sounds. There weren’tanysounds.

The first door on her right was slightly ajar. She studied the award-winning design of the room through the crack, nudging it wider to take in the stunning views and vaulted ceilings.

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