Grant had made a fire before he’d gone outside. Rainy could smell it as soon as she walked in the door, along with whatever he was making for dinner. To her left was a staircase, curving up toward the master bedroom; to her right was another that led to Grant’s office and the rooftop deck. Instead of taking either, she walked down three steps into the dropped living room where, during the daytime, the windows looked out over the mountain. It was for this view, this house, this solitude, that she’d agreed to leave her apartment in New York; Grant had offered to move there to be with her, but when she’d seen this place... She’d called it Goth House the first time she’d seen it.

Putting a log on the fire, she called for Shep and heard him scrambling up from wherever he’d been sleeping, nails clicking on the wood floors. Bending down, she greeted the old mutt by pressing her forehead to his.

“Need outside?” she asked. He whined. She’d adopted Shep from the Humane Society a day before he was to be euthanized. He was already old when he came home with her five years ago, and now he reminded her of a grouchy old man who hated his naps interrupted. At the far end of the living room were three stairs that led up to the kitchen, and she followed Shep through it and to the back door, where he pawed at the floor impatiently. After she let him out, she stood with her back pressed to the door, massaging her temples. She needed to process what had just happened. Had they been able to see how shaken she was? She’d tried to keep her cool and get out of there as quickly as possible, but Tara had sensed something. Get your shit together, Rainy.

As she glanced around the kitchen, her eyes swept across the gray cabinets and clean quartz countertops until they landed on the nook where Grant had set the table and put out candles. The nook was surrounded by the same grand windows that were in the living room, and Rainy glanced at them uneasily before going to the control panel and hitting a button that made the shades roll down automatically. Better. She grabbed a box of matches from the drawer and lit the candles before sliding into her chair to wait for Grant.