Breeze swept the fallen leaves, making them dance in patterns, forming circles in the air. Higher and higher they rose, glittering in the dying sunlight like pieces of gold, then fell down and lay motionless, unmoving. Still as stones in the soft dusk, that spread over the High Lord's lands, over the hills, the glades and the ravines. Silence settled over the earth, a silence as thick as cotton and as unnatural as the blood-red crescent that hang in the darkened sky. Nothing moved, as though the world had turned into a still-life. The wind died, followed by the last rays of the sun.
Night fell...
The loud ringing of the phone downstairs startled me and I almost dropped the manuscript of Seth's yet untitled novel, that I was trying to read, without thinking too much about the author, or our history together, or... Or anything else, that I wasn't supposed to think, while having a gold wedding-band on my finger. I made a face, that was too close to a pout for comfort, then got up to pick the phone...
...which, naturally, had stopped ringing by the time I got to the kitchen. Great. I'd just managed to concentrate, after a whole day of feeling distracted, and annoyed by little and insignificant things, that I'd hardly ever notice usually, and now my concentration had been shattered, so I was back at square one. Which, technically, might not have been such a big deal, if I hadn't promised Seth to meet him later today for a cup of coffee and a discussion... Of his book(s), writing career, marital status and pretty much all things that did not consider "us", past, present or future. I didn't need to have such a talk with him today, especially after the long conversation me and Michael had last night. One jealous husband is enough for a gal. A jealous old boyfriend will be a step too far... And a bit too much!
Did I mention that Mason Blackwood invited me and Miss Munro to dinner? No? Well, yes, he did. And, yes, Miss Munro did except for the both of us (no surprise there). If I didn't know better, I'd have said that Mason was looking at me a bit too... closely, let's call it, for me to feel comfortable in his presence. He was an imposing enough man, without showing any special interest in you. When his eyes followed your every move, as if drinking you in, then...
A shiver ran down my spine. Mason was making me nervous, but that was only because he was my boss. Or my future-boss. Or whatever. That had to be the reason... Anything else was unacceptable! Or so I kept on telling myself...
Bast was lounging on the sofa in the living room, a Queen among cats... and people, if we counted the way both me and Michael treated her. There is a reason why cats are spoiled. They just have a way of getting under your skin and, more or less, making you do what they want... Or, as in this case, doing what they want, as long as they don't bring their dirty toys on the sofa and don't step on it with not-so-clean paws. I let out an exasperated sigh and went to give the sofa a once over inspection, while scolding at Bast the whole time. Typically, she scolded back at me. Cats!
One look was enough to tell me, that the easiest way to deal with the stains left on the sofa would be to call a sofa cleaning company and not waste time on the matter myself. I was too busy with Seth's book anyway, and with wondering what to wear for Mason's dinner, and what present to buy Michael for Christmas, and if I should propose to organize a baby shower for Monica and Carter's child... Still, the latter was a happy occasion. The three men were beginning to turn into nuisance... Even Michael who, after yesterday, seemed convinced that I've spent the last decade or so daydreaming about Seth. Which I hadn't. But man are bullheaded creatures... Try to put some sense in their thick heads, and they get even more stubborn!
I went to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea and ponder over the dinner. There was a thought nagging at me: was it a coincidence that I'd been chosen for Seth's editor, or had he actually known it was me, before coming to the house yesterday? Yes, I know that he had looked surprised and all, but I also knew that Seth used to take Drama Classes and is a much better actor than most men I know. If he'd checked on me, upon returning to London, and...
I shook my head to chase away the unsettling thought. I was starting to make things up. The whole idea of a set up sounded too much like a "stalker" movie, or a... I don't know... "Twilight" novel, to be true! Coincidences happen...
The only problem is, I don't believe in "coincidence". In a Grand Plan, or fate, or destiny, yes, but not in "coincidence". But I'm starting to think I might change my perceptions....
The phone rang, just as the kettle gave me the signal that the water has boiled. I took one off the stove, while picking up the other one. I must have been thinking too hard about Seth, and his book, and... staff, because I didn't even realize that instead of "Hi" or "Hello", I said, with a question in my voice:
"Seth?"
The only thing that answered me was silence. Then Michael's voice said quietly. "Sorry. Wrong guy."
What could I say to that? Oops...
The loud ringing of the phone downstairs startled me and I almost dropped the manuscript of Seth's yet untitled novel, that I was trying to read, without thinking too much about the author, or our history together, or... Or anything else, that I wasn't supposed to think, while having a gold wedding-band on my finger. I made a face, that was too close to a pout for comfort, then got up to pick the phone...
...which, naturally, had stopped ringing by the time I got to the kitchen. Great. I'd just managed to concentrate, after a whole day of feeling distracted, and annoyed by little and insignificant things, that I'd hardly ever notice usually, and now my concentration had been shattered, so I was back at square one. Which, technically, might not have been such a big deal, if I hadn't promised Seth to meet him later today for a cup of coffee and a discussion... Of his book(s), writing career, marital status and pretty much all things that did not consider "us", past, present or future. I didn't need to have such a talk with him today, especially after the long conversation me and Michael had last night. One jealous husband is enough for a gal. A jealous old boyfriend will be a step too far... And a bit too much!
Did I mention that Mason Blackwood invited me and Miss Munro to dinner? No? Well, yes, he did. And, yes, Miss Munro did except for the both of us (no surprise there). If I didn't know better, I'd have said that Mason was looking at me a bit too... closely, let's call it, for me to feel comfortable in his presence. He was an imposing enough man, without showing any special interest in you. When his eyes followed your every move, as if drinking you in, then...
A shiver ran down my spine. Mason was making me nervous, but that was only because he was my boss. Or my future-boss. Or whatever. That had to be the reason... Anything else was unacceptable! Or so I kept on telling myself...
Bast was lounging on the sofa in the living room, a Queen among cats... and people, if we counted the way both me and Michael treated her. There is a reason why cats are spoiled. They just have a way of getting under your skin and, more or less, making you do what they want... Or, as in this case, doing what they want, as long as they don't bring their dirty toys on the sofa and don't step on it with not-so-clean paws. I let out an exasperated sigh and went to give the sofa a once over inspection, while scolding at Bast the whole time. Typically, she scolded back at me. Cats!
One look was enough to tell me, that the easiest way to deal with the stains left on the sofa would be to call a sofa cleaning company and not waste time on the matter myself. I was too busy with Seth's book anyway, and with wondering what to wear for Mason's dinner, and what present to buy Michael for Christmas, and if I should propose to organize a baby shower for Monica and Carter's child... Still, the latter was a happy occasion. The three men were beginning to turn into nuisance... Even Michael who, after yesterday, seemed convinced that I've spent the last decade or so daydreaming about Seth. Which I hadn't. But man are bullheaded creatures... Try to put some sense in their thick heads, and they get even more stubborn!
I went to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea and ponder over the dinner. There was a thought nagging at me: was it a coincidence that I'd been chosen for Seth's editor, or had he actually known it was me, before coming to the house yesterday? Yes, I know that he had looked surprised and all, but I also knew that Seth used to take Drama Classes and is a much better actor than most men I know. If he'd checked on me, upon returning to London, and...
I shook my head to chase away the unsettling thought. I was starting to make things up. The whole idea of a set up sounded too much like a "stalker" movie, or a... I don't know... "Twilight" novel, to be true! Coincidences happen...
The only problem is, I don't believe in "coincidence". In a Grand Plan, or fate, or destiny, yes, but not in "coincidence". But I'm starting to think I might change my perceptions....
The phone rang, just as the kettle gave me the signal that the water has boiled. I took one off the stove, while picking up the other one. I must have been thinking too hard about Seth, and his book, and... staff, because I didn't even realize that instead of "Hi" or "Hello", I said, with a question in my voice:
"Seth?"
The only thing that answered me was silence. Then Michael's voice said quietly. "Sorry. Wrong guy."
What could I say to that? Oops...
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