Fliss brightened. “That’s one piece of good news.”
“I will never understand you. Most people would be wary of that breed.”
“They’re misunderstood. I have sympathy for anyone who is misunderstood. And why are you worried? Is Hero likely to savage me?”
“No. I don’t think anyone has told Hero he’s a Doberman. He’s having something of a breed identity crisis. He’s more likely to lick you to death.”
“Good.”
Reminding herself it was business, and she was never going to say no to business, Fliss made sure her grandmother was comfortable and then decided she might as well make the acquaintance of Matilda and her hopefully not-so-scary dog.
The Adams residence was on a thirty-acre peninsula, with sweeping ocean views.
Fliss almost got lost driving there. Finding the turn-in was the easy part because there was no missing the wrought iron security gates. It was locating the house at the end of the wide gravel drive that proved challenging. She drove past hedged lawns and spied a tennis court on the edge of her vision.
“This drive is long enough to land a jumbo jet,” she muttered, lifting her eyebrows as the house finally came into view. One glance and she decided that “beach mansion” would have been a better description than “beach house.”
She parked her convertible, thinking that at least one thing about her looked at home in these surroundings. The fact that her car was rented was an irony that didn’t escape her.
Knowing how wealthy Chase Adams was, she’d already formed an impression in her head of Matilda Adams. She’d be
slim and elegant. Probably tall. Model-like in her proportions. One of those golden blondes who had hung around the beaches of the Hamptons when she was growing up. Girlie, with perfect hair and nails.
Having fixed that image in her head, it was a shock when Matilda opened the door.
She was tall, yes, but—
Fliss blinked. “Jeez. Is that—er—blood on your shirt? Did someone die? Disposing of a body isn’t generally one of my services, but if the world is better off without whoever it was, I can make an exception.”
“It’s cranberry juice. Hero knocked into me and I spilled an entire glass over myself. You know what I’m like. Coordination isn’t really my thing. Put me with an unruly dog, and together we have no chance. I was in the process of mopping up when you arrived.” Matilda tugged at the damp fabric of her shirt. “Thank goodness it’s you and not someone I’m trying to impress. It’s so good to see you, Harriet! When Chase told me you were here, I couldn’t believe it.”
“You shouldn’t believe it,” Fliss said. “I’m not Harriet. I’m Fliss.”
There. She’d said it. The first strand unraveled.
Matilda stared at her. “But Chase said—”
“Long story. Come to think of it, everything in my life is a long story. I don’t seem to manage the short, simple version. Forget novellas, I’m War and Peace meets Game of Thrones, without the dragons and dead people.”
Matilda brightened. “In that case come inside. I want to hear everything.”
Fliss eyed the red stain on her shirt. “You’re sure you don’t want to kill me?”
“Definitely not.” Matilda flung the door open a little too enthusiastically and almost smacked herself in the face. “I love stories. I make my living writing stories. You’ll have to forgive my staring. You could totally be Harriet.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot. Welcome to twindom.” Fliss stepped into the spacious hallway and gazed around her in disbelief. “Wow. Sorry, is that crass of me? I probably should have pretended I see houses like this all the time. In fact I thought I had seen plenty of big houses. It’s not as if there’s a shortage around here. But this is—”
Matilda gave a slightly embarrassed smile. “It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?”
“A little? Make that a lot.” She stared up at the domed ceiling. “The last time I saw a dome like that was in Florence, Italy.”
“The first time Chase brought me here I actually got lost. I was looking for the bathroom and ended up in the guest residence. Don’t even ask.”
Fliss dragged her gaze from the dome. “You have a guest residence? Because you’re in such cramped quarters.”
Matilda grinned. “Three beds and three baths. Chase uses it to store his sailing gear. It’s mostly full of wet suits and the odd sail in the middle of being repaired.”
“What? No live-in staff?”