Angel of the Morning by Judith Arnold

Author:Judith Arnold
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: movie star, shop owner, mystery baby, small town romance, lost lovers reunited, one-night stand
Publisher: Judith Arnold
Published: 2018-12-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“They accepted your bid,” Andrea Simonetti said.

Dylan rubbed his chin, hoping the friction of his thumb against his overnight stubble of beard would somehow spark his brain into gear. This was good news. He ought to be happy. He was happy. Better than happy. If the owner of that sprawling house overlooking the ocean had agreed to Dylan’s price, he could buy the place. He could live in Brogan’s Point. Near his daughter.

Near Gwen.

Andrea’s good news didn’t jolt him to life the way it should, though. He hadn’t slept much last night, and he was feeling bleary. Cell phone pressed to his ear, he shoved back the blankets and padded across the room to the courtesy coffee pot sitting on a tray on the dresser. With his free hand and his teeth, he managed to tear open the envelope containing the coffee. He tamped it into the coffee maker’s basket, then filled the pot with water in the bathroom and poured it into the well.

“Are you there, Dylan?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Rough night,” he said laconically. Not the sort of rough night usually associated with Hollywood types. No intoxicants had been involved, no glamorous women, no giddy groupies. Just a long, dark stretch of hours filled with thoughts of Gwen. Thoughts he shouldn’t be having.

The room was chilly, and all he had on was a pair of boxer briefs. If the house sale went through and he relocated to Brogan’s Point, he was going to have to get used to chilly air, cold floorboards against his bare feet, clanking radiators, and raw, misting rain like the damp morning outside his window.

He could handle all kinds of weather. He’d grown up in Nebraska, after all, where rain was always welcome because his grandparents’ farm needed it, and because at least it wasn’t snow.

Still, while his coffee brewed, there was no reason he couldn’t crawl back under the blankets, into the warm nest of the bed. “So what happens now?” he asked Andrea, pulling the blanket up over his body and letting his head sink into the plush down pillows.

“You come into my office and we draw up a binder. You’ll need to write a check, one percent of the sales price should be fine. That will be held in escrow—”

“Right. I know. I’ve bought a house before.” He’d gone through the same basic process when purchasing his home in Venice Beach. He’d sold that house a month ago for a nice profit. Most of his possessions were currently stashed in a storage unit, and he’d been camping out in Barry Hoffman’s guest house while preparing for his trip east. Barry was Dylan’s lawyer and his friend. As an attorney to movie stars, he made more money than most of his clients did. He owned a sprawling estate in Brentwood, and he’d generously made his guest house available until Dylan figured out where he was going to live.

In Brogan’s Point. He was going to live here, in that house overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.

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