His mansion was silent, and he was pleased as he left his bedroom, seeing that the maids had cleaned up well. There was almost no sign that he’d had a party at all, except for a single person on his couch. Kyle, an old friend of his, was passed out and snoring against the white leather, his legs dangling off the side.
Liam smiled to himself as he passed through the massive living room and made his way to the kitchen. The white marble countertops reflected the morning sunlight, causing him to narrow his eyes against the light. The house was silent, save for the sound of Kyle snoring. Liam turned on the espresso machine and brought a black mug out of the cupboard just above it.
He wasn’t a huge fan of mornings but there was one thing that he always looked forward to - his morning coffee. His cafe-worthy espresso machine was the pinnacle of his morning, and it had become a ritual to him. The machine whirred, breaking the silence of the kitchen as the water inside heated. He took out the coffee he had imported from Brazil and placed it into the nozzle, scraping off the excess with the metal spoon he kept in the coffee bag.
The smell of the coffee was intoxicating as he began to brew the espresso, which he’d then add enough water to to create an Americano, which was his favorite type of coffee. Some days, when he was feeling like something different, he’d make a latte. He found the California sun made him want something lighter, which was why he usually went for an Americano.
He grabbed the mug and used the nozzle on the side of the machine to dispense hot water into the cup. He added only about half a cup, which he’d decided long ago was perfect for an Americano made at home. He took his first sip and exhaled as the warm coffee swept over his tongue. Another perfect way to start the morning - it was almost enough to make him forget about the pounding in his head.
He decided to drink his coffee outside, where he wouldn’t hear Kyle snoring. It was another bright California day, and he was grateful to be back in Malibu. There was something about his Malibu mansion that felt a little more like home, especially compared to his family’s other properties. There was something about it that made him feel as though he belonged, and it wasn’t the people.
He stopped as he stepped outside and peered over the plaster wall that seperated the neighbor’s yard and his. The memory appeared, quick as lightning. That girl. She had looked identical to the whimsical young woman he’d met in Greece. There was no telling if they were the same person, unless he asked her. He took another sip of his coffee, trying to remember her face, which had been hidden beneath those large square glasses. Were they really the same person?
The girl he had met in Greece had been sexy and mysterious, which was the opposite of the girl that showed up at his door. She was dishevelled, almost looking like one of those memes of people in Walmart. He tapped his foot as he savored the taste of his premium coffee. He’d need to figure it out before it drove him insane.
Despite the fact that they resembled each other, they seemed like completely different women. They had to be different women...didn’t they?
Chapter Six
Violet
She was working on another piece when she saw him beyond the wall enjoying his morning coffee. She couldn’t help but stare out the window at him, wondering if he really was the guy she had met in Greece. The resemblance was uncanny. Even the way he walked was similar. She watched as he paced just in front of his huge in-ground pool, as though inspecting what his maids had done when they’d cleaned up after his party. She’d seen those women picking up glasses and bottles, including a few bathing suits that had been littered around the pool.
The wind passed through the open window and Violet sighed, wondering if the gentleman she had met had really been nothing but a playboy. She felt as though she’d been had. If they were the same person, he had done a great job of hiding what kind of person he really was.
She turned back to her painting, which was of the girl and the cat rushing through the snow together in the middle of winter. There were christmas lights in the background and the girl and cat were smiling as they traipsed through the snow. The story was sweet, and the colors popped across the white canvas, creating a perfectly lovely scene.
She pushed a strand of hair back, returning her gaze to the window. Who was he, really? Donovan had told her a little bit about their new neighbor. The fact that he was a billionaire had been the first thing she’d mentioned. He had inherited his father’s business and was vastly wealthy because of it.
She wondered if he was like the other wealthy people she’d met while living in Malibu. If his party had been any indication - he was. It was a shame. If he was the same person she’d met in Greece, he was the kind of man she hated.
Chapter Seven
Violet
The parties had become a daily occurence. It was as though her new neighbor decided that he was going to recreate the Great Gatsby in his backyard. Violet clenched her teeth as she watched girls that looked like supermodels jumping into his pool. The music was obnoxious and loud, causing his guests to yell across the way to each other, as though they were all deaf.
She spotted a DJ in the back corner of the yard, playing a set playlist with massive black speakers behind him. It wasn’t difficult to see her neighbor in the crowd, walking through as though he was the Godfather himself. He schmoozed and laughed with each person he encountered, as though he actually knew them all individually and was best friends with each one. She couldn’t help but wonder if he worked at all. In the two weeks he’d lived next to Donovan’s house, he’d had a daily party. Usually they were pool parties in the middle of the day that lasted until evening.
Work had become harder and harder to focus on. In fact, she was about to miss a deadline because every time she was about to begin a new painting, she would have to deal with the sound coming from next door.
Violet adjusted her glasses and decided that she was finished trying to work for the day. All she wanted was to not have to listen to the music. Donovan’s house was essentially soundproof, which meant that she wouldn’t have to hear the girls next door giggling and the terrible music being blasted through the speakers.
Violet grabbed her phone and purse and headed downstairs towards the front door. The music next door was so loud she could swear she saw the walls shaking as she walked through the house. It was worse when she opened her front door. There was such a sense of frustration that she wanted to scream.
Violet found herself stomping through the freshly-manicured lawn towards Donovan’s main house. The mansion was quiet most days, as Donovan’s parents were at work. Donovan spent most of her time taking photos of herself for her followers, always trying to stay up-to-date on the newest trends on social media. Violet couldn’t actually judge her for it either. Donovan made decent money promoting products for companies. There were even companies giving Donovan clothes that she would often sell online. It was a lucrative business.
Another good thing about it? Donovan was always home.
There were times when Violet felt constrained by living alone. Anyone who lived alone and said they always enjoyed it were lying. There were instances when she just felt as though she needed human contact with someone and, because Donovan was always home, she knew that there would always be someone close by that she could visit.
Violet ascended the stairs to the main doors and let herself in. The music playing at the neighbors house was nothing more than a muffle and Violet sighed, wishing that she was rich enough to escape their playboy neighbor’s obnoxious habits.