Chapter 2 - THE NEIGHBOR NEXT DOORThree mornings later, Claire discovered that the stranger from the beach lived approximately 180 yards from her front gate.
She learned this while barefoot, furious, and wrapped in a white bath towel.
At 6:12 a.m., the outdoor shower beside Claire’s pool stopped working.
The timing was spectacularly bad.
She had gone swimming before sunrise, finished twenty laps, and discovered that the shower produced nothing except a metallic cough.
Claire twisted the handle again.
Nothing.
“Wonderful.”
Her phone was inside.
Her robe was upstairs.
The towel hanging beside the shower was barely large enough to preserve her dignity.
Then she heard barking.
A golden retriever came charging through the hedge.
Claire jumped backward.
“Hey!”
The dog skidded beside the pool, tail wagging violently.
Seconds later, someone pushed through the damaged section of hedge.
“Cooper!”
Claire recognized the voice before the man appeared.
The beach.
The battered baseball cap was gone. His dark hair was wet, and instead of the faded gray shirt, he wore a navy T-shirt and khaki shorts.
He stopped.
Claire stopped.
For one horrifying second, the towel slipped several inches.
She caught it against her chest.
His eyes immediately went upward—to the roofline.
“Sorry.”
Claire stared.
“Are you kidding me?”
“I’m looking at your chimney.”
“I noticed.”
“Excellent chimney.”
Despite herself, Claire almost laughed.
Almost.
The golden retriever sat beside her like they had been friends for years.
The man continued staring determinedly at the sky.
“Cooper found a hole in the hedge.”
“And you followed him onto private property?”
“I figured retrieving my dog was preferable to leaving him with the billionaire who looks capable of suing him personally.”
Claire narrowed her eyes.
“You know who I am.”
Now he looked at her face.
“Everybody around here knows who you are.”
That bothered her more than she expected.
“And you still spoke to me like that on the beach?”
“Was I supposed to submit a résumé first?”
Claire actually laughed.
A small sound escaped before she could stop it.
His expression changed.
Not triumph.
Surprise.
“Interesting,” he said.
“What?”
“You can laugh.”
“I laugh.”
“Sure.”
She tightened the towel.
“What is your name?”
“Daniel Mercer.”
The name meant nothing to her.
“Your son?”
“Eli.”
The boy from the beach.
Daniel whistled.
Cooper immediately returned to him.
“Sorry about the invasion.”
He turned away.
“Wait.”
Daniel glanced back.
Claire hated herself slightly for asking.
“You live nearby?”
He pointed toward a weathered cedar beach house partially hidden beyond the neighboring property.
“That one.”
Claire stared.
The house had been empty for years.
“I thought that belonged to Eleanor Mercer.”
“It did.”
Something shifted in his face.
“My mother.”
Claire understood immediately.
“Did she—”
“February.”
The answer was quiet.
“I’m sorry.”
Daniel nodded.
“Thanks.”
He began walking away.
“Daniel.”
Again he stopped.
Claire gestured toward herself.
“You’re really leaving me standing here in a towel?”
“You seemed to have the situation under control.”
“My shower is broken.”
“I’m a structural engineer, not a plumber.”
Claire blinked.
Daniel smiled for the first time.
“But I can probably fix it.”
Ten minutes later, Claire stood inside her kitchen wearing a robe while Daniel crouched beside the exterior water controls.
She watched him through the glass.
No performance.
No attempt to impress her.
He worked quietly while Cooper slept in the sun.
Twenty minutes later, water burst from the shower.
Daniel knocked once on the glass door.
Claire opened it.
“Mineral buildup in the valve.”
“How much?”
“For what?”
“Your time.”
He stared at her.
“Nothing.”
“Daniel.”
“Claire.”
Something about hearing her first name from him felt strangely intimate.
“You spent half an hour fixing it.”
“And?”
“People charge for services.”
“Neighbors occasionally help each other.”
Claire almost told him she had employees for that.
Instead, she said, “Thank you.”
Daniel nodded.
Then a small voice came from beyond the hedge.
“Dad?”
Eli appeared carrying the yellow shovel.
Daniel’s entire body changed.
The guarded man disappeared.
“Hey, buddy.”
Eli ran toward him.
Daniel crouched and caught his son.
Claire watched.
Again, that same absolute attention.
Eli noticed her.
“You’re the lady who blocked me.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Daniel coughed into his fist.
“I blocked you?”
“My moat.”
“Yes. Apparently I did.”
Eli studied her solemnly.
“You can help next time.”
Daniel looked horrified.
Claire smiled.
“I’d like that.”
Eli accepted this immediately.
Daniel did not.
As father and son walked home, Claire remained beside the glass door.
For reasons she could not explain, the enormous house suddenly felt quieter than before.
That afternoon, her chief financial officer called.
“Claire, we have a problem.”
She returned to her office.
“What kind?”
“The acquisition parcel beside your Malibu property.”
Claire opened the file.
Montgomery Global had quietly purchased several coastal lots for an executive retreat and conference complex.
Only one property remained.
The cedar house.
Owner:
Daniel Mercer.
Claire stared at the screen.
“How long have we been trying to acquire it?”
“Eight months.”
“And he keeps refusing?”
“Yes.”
“What’s our latest offer?”
“Four-point-eight million.”
Claire looked through the window toward Daniel’s modest house.
Her CFO continued.
“The board wants us to begin eminent-domain pressure through the access easement. We have enough leverage to make staying very expensive.”
Claire went still.
“Who approved that strategy?”
A pause.
“You did.”
May you like
And suddenly the man on the beach was no longer merely her neighbor.
He was standing directly between Claire Montgomery and a project worth $240 million.
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