As welcoming as the housekeeper was, Olivia found the two wagging hounds at her hips more inviting. Tall and lean with black coats and cream tips, they were either the world’s worst guard dogs or simply friendly to strangers.
“Hi,” Olivia said, and stuck out her hand to one of the dogs, who promptly licked it with a warm tongue.
“I do hope you like dogs. Ms. Larsson has many. This way, please,” Hanna said, and waved her in.
Olivia followed her through a cavernous entryway with a chandelier the size of a Volkswagen Beetle and a split staircase curving each wall and joining at the top. The dogs excitedly sniffed her as she walked, poking their noses from her ankles to her hips.
“What are their names?” she asked.
Hanna glanced over her shoulder as if to check which dogs she was asking about. “This is Nico and Sebastian. Yes, like the crab.”
Olivia grinned and scrubbed Sebastian’s ears, finding it somehow endearing to know that Astrid Larsson had a dog named after a Disney character.
“Ms. Larsson is waiting for you on the patio. The morning is so nice, she thought outside would be a lovely place to meet,” Hanna said as she led Olivia through a stately sitting room full of daylight thanks to the entire back wall being glass.
A sweeping view of the Pacific Ocean stole Olivia’s breathfor a beat. She’d grown up next to it and seen it countless times, but seeing it from above, a sheet of blue silk stretching to the horizon, never failed to impress. Only so many people could afford to frame that view inside their home like their own personal painting, and that was part of the allure. Astrid Larsson’s home displayed it like a crown jewel.
The rest of the room held large furniture pieces with long, clean lines that looked intentional to keep it from disappearing against the view’s grand scale. A glint of gold caught Olivia’s eye from the marble mantel, and she counted all three of Astrid’s Oscars on display.
Her red dress suddenly felt like an embarrassingly inferior power move. Hanna had probably been instructed to walk Olivia through the room with the Oscars to remind her who exactly she was coming over to meet. The reminder served its purpose because Olivia felt foolish for thinking any good could come out of this conversation. Surely Astrid only planned to remind her of her status and shove her back out the door.
When Hanna led her through a pocket of the glass wall that had been slid open, Olivia entered a picturesque backyard that looked fit to be a diving platform into the ocean. Of course, a rocky hillside separated it and them, but the appearance of needing only a single step to slip into the sea left the house feeling like it was floating in the sky. A prim lawn and row of palms filled one side of the yard, and a crystalline blue swimming pool lined with lounge chairs and a covered bar filled the other. Between the pool and the house, and in the direction in which Hanna was leading her, sat a pergola climbing with morning glories and bougainvillea in shades of indigo and fuchsia almost too brilliant to look at. Beneath the volcano of color sat a scene equally stunning.
Astrid Larsson.
Olivia’s heart stopped at the sight of her. A screen goddess come to life, but also a woman at home in her backyard. The clash of the untouchable ethereal beauty she’d seen from a distance her whole life and Astrid’s Birkenstocks, linen pants, and simple blouse threw her for a loop.
She was stunning, and yet…normal.
She sat at a table spread with coffee, pastries, fresh fruit, and a glass jug of orange juice beside a bottle of champagne in a bucket. A fluffy white Samoyed sat next to her panting on the patio deck.
Olivia’s first instinct was that she’d interrupted something, someone else’s fancy brunch, because this couldn’tpossiblyhave been for her. But then Astrid popped out of her chair and removed the sunglasses she’d been wearing to gape at her. Her famous ice blue eyes pierced her like hooks.
“My god. You’re the spitting image of your mother.”
Hearing her voice in person was even more of a mind trip than seeing her. She stood tall and slender, still possessing the supermodel figure that had made her famous. Her grayed hair was pulled halfway back and otherwise tumbling over her shoulders. Her skin creamy pale with rosed cheeks. She was impeccably preserved for someone in her seventies. It took Olivia several seconds to register that Astrid Larsson,theAstrid Larsson, was speaking to her.
“Hello,” she said nervously. Somewhere in the depths of her brain, she was trying to remember that she was supposed to feel anger toward this woman, but she should have known that feeling starstruck would snatch at least some of that away. “Um, thank you for meeting with me.”
Astrid kept staring at her, looking almost as if she’d seen aghost. She eventually cleared her throat and motioned for her to sit down. “Of course. Thank you for coming.” On the way back into her own seat, she bumped her coffee mug and sent it sloshing. “Oh dear,” she muttered, flustered, and looked for a napkin among the decadent spread.
Olivia realized then that she was just as nervous, if not more so. The fact that she could make Astrid Larsson nervous filled her with a surprised sense of powerful confidence.
“Here,” Olivia said when she found a cloth napkin folded beside a strawberry tart. She extended it to Astrid, who took it with a surprised look.
“Thank you,” she said, and dabbed up the spill.
The Samoyed stood to lick the dribbles on the concrete.
“What’s that one’s name?” Olivia asked, and pointed at the dog.
Astrid sat in her chair and buried her fingers in the dog’s thick and shockingly white coat. He looked like a sterile cotton ball roaming the colorful backyard. “This is Jax,” she said, and reached over to the chair beside her to lift a little stuffed sausage of a French bulldog that Olivia hadn’t even known was sitting there. “Andthis,” Astrid said like lifting her was no small feat, “is Minnie. Who you can see is in a delicate condition.” Her voice squeaked as she cradled the dog like a baby and gently rubbed her rotund belly. Astrid looked up at Olivia with a smile. “Let me know if you’re in the market for a puppy.”
Olivia noted then that the pudgy dog wasn’t simply pudgy, but pregnant. Astrid set her on the ground, where she waddled off to lie in the sun. At the sight of it—the cute dog, the breakfast spread, the stunning view—a befuddled laugh popped out of Olivia. The sound of it startled even her and made Astrid look over.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
Olivia couldn’t exactly put a finger on it. “I’m sorry. This is all just very strange. I didn’t really know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t a champagne brunch and a puppy. Kind of feels like a trick.” An embarrassed flush immediately curled into Olivia’s face for insulting her host, but it was true. She felt like a kid being lured off the street.