Amy felt a bit of embarrassment until she realized that the other members of Logan’s band had been with her drink for drink and had clearly been there for a while before she had arrived. Before she could reply, Andy said, “That’s because you haven’t stopped talking since you got here.”
Logan tipped back the rest of his drink and said, “I knew there was a reason.”
Amy stood up and held her hand out. “Lead me home.”
“As much as I’d like to bring you back to my place,” Logan said, grinning, “I think I should get some food into you and take you to meet the old man.”
Amy waved goodbye to Logan’s band mates and followed him outside. She was surprised at how dark it was. When they had entered the bar, it had been light out. Now that she was leaving, she wasn’t even sure what time it was. How’s that for living in the moment, Ethan? she thought. She wished he could see her. She wanted to rub her happiness and spontaneity in his face.
Chapter 7
After dinner, Amy headed up to her room to take a few minutes to herself. She placed her hand on the top of the rustic dresser as she looked at herself in the mirror. Both pieces of furniture looked like they were a hundred years old, but Amy was willing to bet that Hank had had them made to look that way. Even the enormous bed looked warm and quaint with its rustic posts. Whether any of this was old or not, it all looked and felt well made. Amy guessed that each item had cost a fortune. Hank clearly cared about making his home comfortable and inviting.
Hank seemed like a good man, and she felt like she should feel bad about misleading him the way she was. But she didn’t feel bad at all, not for Logan and not for Hank. She had spent the past ten years working for men like them, helping them hide their secrets, even when they weren’t being honest with her themselves. It was nice to have her own secret for once. It made her feel dangerous. For once, she was in control, at least partially.
Amy scowled at herself in the mirror. Okay, she wasn’t exactly happy with herself for lying to Hank. Sure, she told partial truths for a living, but Hank had opened his home to her and Ethan. Somehow this felt different. She was more than a little pissed at Ethan for leaving her alone with complete strangers, even if she was enjoying playing his wife. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her emails. Nothing interesting. She wondered if she should call Callie to check in. There wouldn’t be any harm in that, she thought. It wasn’t overbearing to just touch base a few times a day to make herself available.
As Amy reached to place the call, she heard a knock on the door. “Yes?” she said.
“It’s Hank. I’m wondering if you’re ready for that tour of the house. I showed your husband last time, so I don’t think he’ll mind missing out.”
Amy looked at her phone as she waited for a moment. Then she tossed it into her luggage and walked to the door.
***
For the next forty-five minutes, Hank brought Amy from room to room, talking about the technical innovations and creature comforts on display in his house. She couldn’t believe how big his “cabin in the woods” really was. There were two saunas. Two. There was an indoor swimming pool and an outdoor hot tub, which Hank had said Amy and Ethan could use whenever they liked. On the tour Amy had counted at least ten bedrooms before she just gave up on keeping track. The house felt both cozy and expansive, the exposed beams and the charming furniture making each room feel just right, and the large windows giving breathtaking views of the mountains outside. Hank had taken an extra delight in showing her the heating and cooling system for the house. Its geothermal heat pump ran a pipe far down into the earth to capture heat in the winter and dispel heat in the summer, which, according to Hank, made the whole thing more efficient. Amy liked how excited he got when talking about the technical details. From his talk, she garnered that most of the house’s twelve fireplaces were just for show.
Hank managed to talk about heating and cooling systems for the rest of the tour until, finally, they reached his study. Someone had lit a fire in the study’s hearth, filling the room with warmth and casting a warm light over shelf after shelf of books. Hank sat down in one of two leather chairs that faced a tall window. Though the sun had long-since set, Amy could see the shadows of the mountains in the distance. “This spot is great for reading in the morning. The light is just right.”
“It seems very nice at night as well.”
“At night, I like to sit by this window and remember. I think back on my marriage, back on my youth.” As Amy’s eyes adjusted to the dark, she admired the view. Soon, the conversation took a turn toward the personal. “That husband of yours,” Hank continued, “he reminds me of myself when I was his age, impatient, brash, ready to take on the whole world. I like that in a man. But what I can’t figure for the life of me, Mrs. Cole, is why he wants to make a play for Harris Energy.”