Recovery (The Recovery Series, #1) by JC Harroway

Author:JC Harroway
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Escape Publishing

Chapter Thirteen

MY flight to Los Angeles took ten hours—plenty of time to over-analyse my weekend with Nathan. We’d parted on good terms, neither one of us willing to articulate or even acknowledge that something had changed between us.

I capitulated on his offer, accepting the hospitality. I didn’t want Jess’s holiday ruined by intrusive paparazzi and when her happy and excited face came into view in the arrivals hall, I knew I’d made the right decision. Jess had her own demons to battle and didn’t need my drama on top of her own.

Clear blue skies greeted us as we climbed into a waiting town car. The drive along wide, palm tree-lined streets was both surreal and thrilling. I gasped when the iconic Hollywood sign came into view, gleaming in the sunshine.

Nathan’s home was situated in Los Feliz, a hillside neighbourhood close to Hollywood and encompassing part of the majestic Santa Monica Mountains. We passed chic, colourful cafés and retro boutiques, their assortment of vintage treasures spilling out onto the street.

As the car climbed, the gated driveways became farther spaced and the houses more affluent. I craned my neck to peer out of the rear window at the stunning city and ocean views sprawled below us.

‘We’re here,’ Jess said, squeezing my hand and jumping up and down in her seat. She’d been ecstatic when I’d told her of Nathan’s offer of hospitality, insisting that for her part she was overjoyed to accept.

We passed through wrought-iron gates set into tall stone pillars, ominously topped with security cameras. A long and winding tree-lined driveway ended with a large turning circle and the house itself came into view.

‘Oh wow!’ Jess’s eyes widened, her jaw slack. ‘We’ve hit the holiday jackpot, Soph.’ She turned her gleaming smile on me and grabbed for the door handle.

While the driver unloaded our cases from the boot, we stood transfixed by the view. Spanish colonial in style and double storey, the house had a low-pitched, red tiled roof and a creamy yellow stone façade. The windows were arched, with wrought-iron balconies, and columns flanked the entranceway. Lush greenery dotted with palm trees surrounded the house, creating a tranquil and private oasis.

I was Elizabeth Bennett catching my first glimpse of Pemberley. Part of me wished Mr Darcy would round the corner with his roguish smile and tight britches.

‘C’mon. Let’s go for a swim.’ Jess linked her arm through mine, tugging me into motion.

Yes—a cool off in the pool would dampen my Jane Austen-fuelled fantasies.

‘And then, I want all the earth-shattering details. And if he’s magnificent in bed and he owns this magnificent house, I’m going to drown you, lucky bitch.’

***

‘You like him, don’t you?’ Jess lifted a lazy hand from the sun lounger she was sprawled upon and reached for a glass of ice-cold virgin margarita.

‘He’s okay, I suppose.’ I kept my face neutral, relieved to have my sunglasses to hide behind. ‘His taste in real estate is a little extravagant.’ I cast my gaze beyond the edge of the infinity pool to the expansive views of LA below.

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