
She’d turned the main floor into two small apartments she rented out to college kids. This year her tenants were grad students who did something with computers. She wasn’t sure what, but they were quiet and paid their rent on time, which worked for her.
She climbed up the main staircase to her place — a spacious two-floor unit. After passing through her living room, she took a second set of stairs up to the third floor and walked into her bathroom.
She’d spent most of her time and budget on this bathroom and the kitchen and loved how both had turned out. The bathroom was huge, with a separate shower and a reproduction claw-foot tub. Big stained-glass windows let in plenty of light while giving her privacy and, when she stretched out in the tub, she could see the fireplace in the master bedroom.
Now, her head still pounding, she turned on the water and threw in a handful of jasmine-scented bath beads. In a matter of seconds, the soothing smell had combined with the steam, already relaxing her.
She walked into the bedroom and took off her boots, then stripped off her clothes. She shrugged into a robe and returned to the bathroom to wait for the tub to fill.
Without wanting to, she remembered the first time she’d met Tucker. She’d been maybe ten and Ethan and Josh had brought him home with them from cycling camp. The most exciting thing about his visit was his father’s flying to pick him up in a private jet. She’d found that far more intriguing than Tucker himself.
Eight or so years later, when she’d gone off to college, Ethan had told her to look up his old buddy. She’d made the duty call and was surprised when Tucker was enthused about seeing her again.
He’d given her directions to an industrial complex by the Los Angeles airport. She remembered being surprised by the location. The address was for a building nearly as big as an airplane hangar. The first thing she noticed when she stepped out of her small truck was the sound of music. The pounding rock beat had made the windows rattle.
