The Villa

cigarettes in his pocket. Only to remember they weren't there because he'd quit three weeks and five days earlier.
    And it was killing him.
    Think about something else, he ordered himself, and tuned in to the music played at a brutal volume in his son's new room. Thank God it was at the other end of the hall.
    There'd been the expected combat over bedrooms. Still, his kids had been fairly restrained all in all. He put that down to reluctant manners in front of a stranger. In any case the squabble had been out of habit and without real heat as every room in the house was appealing.
    Damn near perfect, he thought, with its gleaming wood and tile, silky walls and lush furnishings.
    The perfection, the casually elegant style, the absolute order of things gave him the willies. But he expected the kids would soon put that to rights. Tidy they weren't. So however polished the box, the contents would soon be jumbled and they'd all feel more at home.
    Already weary of unpacking, he wandered to one of the windows and stared out over the fields. Pilar was right. The view was stunning. This was part of his turf now. He intended to leave his mark.
    Down the hall Maddy wandered out of her room. She'd tried to act casual about it after arguing with Theo over who got what. The fact was she was thrilled. For the first time in her life she didn't have to share a bathroom with her idiot brother. And hers was done in this cool pattern of dark blues and deep reds. Big splashy flowers, so she imagined taking a bath there would be like swimming in some weird garden.
    Plus she had a huge four-poster bed. She'd locked the door so she could roll all over it in privacy.
    Then she'd remembered that she wouldn't see New York when she looked out the windows, or be able to call one of her friends and hang out. She wouldn't be able to walk to the movies whenever she felt like it. She wouldn't be able to do anything she was used to doing.
    Homesickness had settled so hot and heavy in her belly it ached. The only person she could talk to was Theo. It was the poorest of choices, in her opinion, but the only one left.
    She pushed open his door to a blast of the Chemical Brothers. He was lying on his bed, his guitar across his chest as he tried to match the guitar riff blasting on his stereo. The room was already in chaos, as she imagined it would stay until he moved out to go to college.
    He was such a pig.
    "You're supposed to be unpacking."
    "You're supposed to mind your own business."
    She flopped, stomach down, on the foot of his bed. "There's nothing to do here."
    "You just figuring that out?"
    "Maybe Dad'll hate it, and we'll go home."
    "No chance. Did you see how he slicked up for the old lady?" Because he felt homesick, too, he set his guitar aside and opted to speak to the bane of his existence. "What's up with that?"
    "He sounded like something out of a movie. You know how he looks when he puts on one of his suits for a meeting?" She rolled over on her back. "He sounded like he looks then. Nothing's going to be the same now. He was looking at that woman."
    "Huh?"
    "The Pilar woman. What kind of a name is that?"
    "I guess it's Italian or something. What do you mean looking at her?"
    "You know. Scoping her out."
    "Get out."
    "Man, guys don't notice anything." Feeling superior, she sat up, tossed back her hair. "He was checking her out."
    "So what?" Theo gave a little jerk of the body, a horizontal shrug. "He's checked out women before. Hey, I bet he's even had sex with some of them."
    "Gee, you think?" While the sarcasm dripped, she pushed off the bed to pace to the window. Rain and vines, vines and rain. "Maybe if he has sex with his boss's daughter, he'll get caught, he'll get fired, and we'll go back home."
    "Home where? He loses his job, we've got no place to go. Grow up, Maddy."
    She hunched her shoulders. "This sucks."
    "Tell me about it."
     
    Ty was thinking the same thing about life in general as Sophia whipped him into a meeting—a brainstorming session, she called it. She'd rattled off names at him as she'd zipped through the advertising section. Gesturing, calling out orders and greetings, snatching up messages as she went.
    He remembered none of the names, of course, and the faces had all been a blur as he'd kept pace with Sophia. The woman moved like a linebacker with an intercepted ball in her hand. Fast and slick.
    There were three other people in the room now, all what he thought of as Urban Warriors with their trendy clothes