Say My Name

Page 85

I know he found the outside impressive, because he commented on it as we drove up. The way the house seemed to belong to the hills, enhancing rather than overshadowing the view of the ocean in the distance. The entrance is equally awe inspiring, with a doorway that opens onto a formal living area backed by a wall of glass that reveals the infinity pool beyond. And the broad expanse of stairs acts as a second focal point, directing those staying inside to the third floor where guests are routinely entertained.
“Thanks,” Nikki says. “It was almost complete when I met Damien. I’ll take credit for the furniture and some of the paint colors. But that’s pretty much it.”
“The paint colors are stunning,” Jackson says, making her laugh. And making me smile. I like Nikki a lot. So far, I think, she likes Jackson.
We reach the third floor landing and pause there. To be honest, it’s impossible to climb these stairs and not pause at the top, because what you see upon arrival is so incredible that it takes a moment to catch your breath. The area is huge and designed for entertaining, and from where we stand we can see both the patio—the glass doors are now open to allow a stunning view of the ocean—and the stone fireplace that sits at an angle to the stairs so that it, too, faces the ocean.
That fireplace is the room’s centerpiece, and on it hangs a lifesized nude portrait, the woman’s face turned away to hide her identity. Now, though, thanks to press leaks, most of the world knows that the portrait is of Nikki.
I don’t know the entire story, but I do know that Damien paid a million dollars in exchange for Nikki’s agreement to pose nude. I have my suspicions that there were more terms to their agreement—quite possibly very sensual terms—but unless I ask Nikki outright, I’ll never know for certain.
Even so, I can’t help but see parallels between her relationship with Damien and mine with Jackson. It gives me hope, actually. Because despite all they’ve had to go through, the two of them are the strongest couple I know.
“It’s lovely,” Jackson says, still looking at the portrait. “You should be very proud of it.”
“I am,” she says. “I always was. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t pissed off when the press took my secrets and ran with them.”
“I understand exactly what you mean,” Jackson says, and I know that he is thinking about the movie. “I’d love to meet the artist.”
“That’s Blaine.” I look at Nikki. “Is he here with Evelyn?”
“He’s not. He’s up in Vancouver for a show. But I’m sure he’d love to talk to you when he gets back. Wyatt’s here, though. I forgot to mention him earlier.”
“Our photographer,” I tell Jackson. “I’ve got a portfolio of images of the island to show you. I want to include them in a marketing brochure, and I thought they’d also make cool artwork for the public areas, maybe the individual rooms. I haven’t chosen a designer yet. But I’d like your thoughts on that. I want to make sure that we hire someone who knows how to work with your design and not against it.”
He meets my eyes. “Absolutely.”
I nod, satisfied and, I realize, happy. Because it’s not just our personal relationship that’s come together, it’s our professional one, too. And the idea of working with someone as talented as Jackson Steele thrills me even more than working with a man like Damien. Not that I don’t love my job and think that Damien is freaking brilliant at what he does, but it’s what Jackson does—designing buildings, changing the face of the world—that has always been my passion. And now to be able to share that core of him—well, the thought makes me a little bit giddy.
His smile widens, and I am absolutely certain he knows what I am thinking.
“Come on,” I say with a smirk. “Let’s go say hello to Damien.”
“Actually, he asked if I’d apologize to you,” Nikki said. “There’s been a crisis at one of his production facilities in Malaysia. He had to take the call. In the meantime, let’s get you both a drink and make the introductions. Wine or something harder?” she asks Jackson as she leads us toward the kitchen area tucked away behind a stone wall on the opposite side of the floor.
As far as this house is concerned, it’s a small kitchen designed to service parties. In fact, it puts most residential kitchens to shame, and the main kitchen for this ten-thousand-square-foot Malibu dream house is on the first floor, decked out with more commercial appliances than most five-star restaurants.