I shake my head.
We wait. And we wait.
No return call from Jim.
We both have work to do, so I move back to my conference room and return to coding.
I’ve been working by myself for a few hours when Mason sticks his head in. “It’s after six, and I haven’t heard back from Jim or Landon. Caroline and I are having a night in. Why don’t you join us? At least we’ll be together if Landon or Jim calls.”
I lean back in my chair and think for a minute. I feel anxious about everything at this point. Maybe a distraction will help. “Okay. I guess so. It’s better than hanging out at my place.”
I follow him to the car, and I text Yolanda to let her know I’m with Mason Sullivan and his girlfriend, Caroline—not out of town overnight as planned.
She sends me back a thumbs-up emoji.
We drive across town, into Pacific Heights.
“I thought you lived on Nob Hill,” I tell him.
“I do, but Caroline’s home is on Jackson Street off Alta Plaza Park. Is that okay?”
“Of course. I live on Nob Hill, and I’ve seen you out with a golden retriever.”
Mason breaks into a grin. “That’s Misty. She’s a real love. Don’t let Caroline know this, but I’m pretty sure Misty prefers Caroline’s house to mine.”
I laugh. “I can keep a secret.”
“We’re getting married next spring, and we’ll convert my place to a rental or maybe sell it. I live in an apartment off the garden on the ground floor of a high rise. It’s pretty decent in size, and the garden is beautiful, but it still isn’t a house like Caroline’s.”
I look at him. “I’d love to see it before you sell it. I recently came into a little bit of money, and I’m looking to get out of my tiny apartment.”
“There are a lot of those in San Francisco.”
“I love the neighborhood, though.”
“It doesn’t have much of a view, but it has a huge courtyard between four buildings, lots of grass, and a great tree to climb.” He pauses a moment. “I’ve been to Landon’s place—now that’s a nice apartment.”
I nod. “I love the pool. When I was staying there, I swam most mornings, and it was nice to walk the fifty feet to the pool and do my laps. Granted, it’s not Olympic size like the Y, but I swam a bit longer to make up for the extra wall pushes.”
“You belong to the Y?”
“I do. It’s a nice mix of people, though security has asked me not to go there for now.”
“My best friend—I think you’ve met Dillon—belongs to the Y. He plays basketball there all the time.”
I nod. “It’s a great deal for being on a budget or looking to shake up a workout.”
When we arrive at Caroline’s, we walk in through the garage off the alley. Her chef’s kitchen is bright, cheery, and spectacular.
Caroline gives me a big hug and presents each of us with a drink in a martini glass. Her hair is mussed from cooking. “Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you for having me, last minute.”
“Of course! Now we need to find Landy.” She raises her glass. “To good friends.”
We clink glasses, and the drink goes down smooth. I’ve never heard anyone call Landon Landy, but I’m not sure anyone corrects Caroline.
“Let’s sit in the living room.”
I follow her, and I almost stop short. The room has floor to ceiling windows, and it’s a little foggy today, but I can make out the Golden Gate Bridge, Sausalito, Alcatraz, and the East Bay. On a clear day, I’d bet she can see north of Berkeley.
“Believe it or not, I had a hard time deciding which view was better,” she says. “The front looks out on Alta Plaza Park. The gardens are spectacular, particularly in the spring. The only problem is how busy Jackson Street can be out front.”
“I’ll work on feeling sorry for you,” I tease.
Caroline rolls her eyes. “I know, first-world problem.”
“I’d call it a one-percenter problem, but who am I to say?” I like that Caroline doesn’t take offense at my ribbing.
“My housekeeper made a Mexican fiesta for tonight. I hope that works for you?”
“Sounds fantastic.”
We talk for a short time about what I’m doing and all the help I’m getting from Cameron.
“You know, he’s married to my oldest and dearest friend, Hadlee,” Caroline says. “She’s a pediatrician. I knew when I saw the two of them that they belonged together.”
“He’s a great guy. I’d be in a real jam without him.” I take a sip of my drink. Whatever it is, it’s outstanding.
“He’s so smart,” Caroline agrees. “So, what’s the plan for Landy?” she asks after a moment.
“Greer and Fiona McPhee have worked out a PR plan, but he’s gone silent,” Mason explains. “Claire told him off several weeks ago, and he’s disappeared. Jim knows where he is, so we at least know he’s fine, but—”
“Did he go to his place in Montana?” Caroline asks.
Mason looks at her, and his eyes go wide. “I’ve checked everywhere, but not there. I forgot about the Magnolia Homestead. That has to be where he is.”
My jaw drops. Of course he’s gone to Montana. “I’ll send him a note and tell him I’m flying in tomorrow.”
“I think that’s perfect. Get him back to work and figuring out how to fix this,” Mason says. “We’re all due there in a few weeks for the poker tournament. He needs to put this behind him.”
I text Landon.
Me: I’m flying to Montana. I miss you, and I need your help.
Landon: Okay.
I pump my fist in the air. “I found him. Thank God!” I jump into Caroline’s arms and hug her
