Free Graceful Submission by Melinda Barron Page A

tried to figure out which button to push to lower the privacy screen.
    “Where are we?”
    “On our way to Mr. Shelley’s house.”
    “Does he not live in Brentwood?”
    The driver’s laugh sounded more like a snort. “No, ma’am. He lives in the Hills.”
    “And the Hills are, what?” Alive with the sound of music?
    “A very affluent residential area, ma’am. Mr. Shelley’s house is an architectural marvel, four stories that sits on four acres of land. Lots of steel and glass, with two swimming pools. You’re going to love it.”
    The calm feeling that had built in Grace’s stomach went south. Four stories? Two swimming pools? He’d told her that he was forty-three years old. What sort of forty-three year old writer could afford a house in the Hollywood Hills with four stories and two swimming pools?
    If she asked the driver about Toffer, the man would probably think he had the wrong person in his car. Something told her, however, that Toffer Shelley was more than he’d made himself out to be. From what’d he’d said, she knew that he worked at the studio. But she thought he was a writer. He must be a big shot to be able to afford a house that large, and in this area.
    He’d given her permission to explore the house until the housekeeper left at seven. She would try and figure out then what his job was, because she doubted that he wrote scripts with Peter and Lindsey.
    The limo stopped at a gate, which the driver opened with a code. When the car started its windy ascent, Grace marveled at the scenery. The lush foliage molded itself against the driveway and hid all but the top level of the house from view. She could see floor to ceiling windows, surrounded by steel beams. A deck looked to wrap around the entire building on the top level.
    And if Grace thought that little peek prepared her for the rest of the house, she was wrong. When the car stopped next to the house, Grace thought her jaw would drop off. This house wasn’t a house. It was a palace. A woman in her mid-forties was bounding down the stairs with a man about the same age on her heels.
    “Welcome, welcome,” she said as she opened the door. “I’m Millie, Toffer’s housekeeper and this is my husband, Rafe. He’s the main groundskeeper. We’re so happy to see Toffer have guests, especially a beautiful woman like yourself.”
    Grace smiled and tried to get a word in edgewise as Millie propelled her toward the stairs. Her husband and the limo driver, who finally identified himself as Steve, lifted her luggage from the trunk.
    “Now, you have the full run of the house and Toffer told me to unpack your luggage in his room.” Millie gave her a knowing wink and Grace blushed. “He won’t be home until eight or so and we leave around seven. I’ve made a salad for dinner and it’s chilling in the fridge. Now, let me show you around.”
    Grace stopped in the entryway and stared. The house had a homey feeling, even though it was decorated to the nines.
    “The first two floors are mainly for show,” Millie said. “Two living rooms, a den and two bathrooms on this first floor. The second floor has two guest bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living area and the dining room.”
    “Now the top two floors are where most of the actual “living” is done. The third floor has the kitchen, the den, the library, the theater room, and another bedroom and bathroom, and Toffer’s work-out room. The top floor is Toffer’s bedroom and bath.”
    Grace turned her stunned gaze away from the glass-enclosed room.
    “An entire floor for his bedroom?”
    Millie laughed. “Yup. The top floor is huge, the bedroom and baths take up most of the space. There are two baths, his and hers, on either side of the bedroom. A small staircase leads to an enclosed room that no one goes in but Toffer. The previous owners used it as a work-out room, but Toffer calls it his private sanctuary. He doesn’t even let me clean it, and it’s the only room in the house that’s not