Finally, the woman nodded. “Wait here,” she said, before she turned and walked down the long hallway.
She hadn’t closed the door all the way, which meant that less than a minute later, Izzy heard a loud “ABSOLUTELY NOT” from somewhere inside the house. Ahh, well, there was the mythical Beau Towers. As charming as she’d expected him to be.
The woman walked back to the front door a few seconds later. “I tried, but he says he doesn’t want to talk to you,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
Izzy smiled at her. Whoever this woman was, she seemed nice. If she was dating Beau Towers, Izzy felt sorry for her.
“Thanks so much for trying,” she said. “I really appreciate it. And no need to apologize, it was a long shot, but worth a try. At least I got a mini vacation in Santa Barbara out of this.”
The woman smiled back at her. “Oh, that’s good. How long are you in town for?”
Izzy laughed. “When I said mini, I meant mini. I got here just now from a conference in LA and I have about four hours before I have to drive to LAX to fly back to New York. But I’m going to make the most of it. Maybe eat some tacos, go to the beach—it’s about twenty-eight degrees in New York now, so I want to enjoy this weather while I can.”
The woman’s smile got wider. “I’ll tell you just where to go. There’s a great taqueria, not on the beach, but not too far away. Tell them Michaela sent you, they’ll hook you up.”
Izzy pulled out her phone to jot down the name of the taqueria Michaela gave her.
“Thanks, Michaela,” she said. “I appreciate it.” She took a deep breath. “And can you just tell Beau that I said he can email me anytime about the memoir? I’m not an expert, or anything, maybe he’d rather talk to Marta, but if he just needs some encouragement, or reassurance, or anything like that, I’m happy to help.” Why had she said any of this? Oh well, it’s not like she had anything to lose here.
Michaela gave her that look again. Like she could see right through her. “Sure, Isabelle,” she said. “I’ll let him know.” She slipped on the sandals by the front door. Sandals in February, amazing. “Here, I’ll walk you to your car. I need to check the mail anyway.”
And she probably wanted to make sure Izzy actually left.
They walked down the sloping path together, and Michaela turned toward the mailbox at the bottom of the path. And then she slipped, or tripped over something, so fast that Izzy couldn’t reach out a hand, and she fell, right at Izzy’s feet.
“Oh no!” Izzy bent down. “Are you okay?”
Michaela looked up at her. “I think I twisted my ankle.”
Izzy knelt down. “Can I help you up? Let’s see how it feels.”
Michaela held on to Izzy as she stood up, and then winced as she tried to put weight on her left ankle.
“Do you think you can walk up to the door?” Izzy asked.
Michaela tried to take a step, and stopped. “Can you help me inside?”
Izzy put her arm around Michaela as they turned to the door. “Of course. You need to get ice on that.”
They moved, very slowly, back up to the front door.
“Thanks so much for your help,” Michaela said. “I don’t want to get in the way of your mini vacation.”
“What was I going to do, leave you sitting on the ground?” Izzy said. “The tacos will be there.”
When they finally got to the front steps Izzy helped Michaela up them and through the door.
“I hate to ask,” Michaela said, “but can you help me into the kitchen?”
Izzy pushed the door open. “No problem.”
They made their slow way down the long hallway. Izzy took the opportunity to glance around to see what Beau Towers’s house was like. The floor was tile, the doors were all big and wooden—and mostly closed—and there was lots of art on the walls. Hmm, this wasn’t the kind of house she’d expected Beau Towers to live in. It was a lot homier than she would have thought.
They finally got to the kitchen. It was sunny and warm, with fancy appliances and a cozy-looking breakfast nook with a round kitchen table under a big window. Izzy helped Michaela to a seat at the table.
“Here, sit down and put your ankle up. I’ll get you some ice.”
Izzy grabbed a dish towel off a hook on her way to the refrigerator. She pulled open the freezer and took out a bag of frozen peas. It was sort of comforting to see that even this rich guy had frozen peas in his freezer.