On several occasions during his comings and goings to the carriage house he thought he saw someone in the sunroom across the drive, looking at him. But when Julian moved to get a better look, whoever it was had vanished. Julian decided maybe it was his eyes playing a trick on him or it was merely a shadow.
Midweek he got the dreaded call from Craig about the party. “Hello, sweetie.”
Julian rolled his eyes.
Craig continued. “Well, everything is set up. Stephen’s being a pain in the ass as usual, but the party is going to be this Friday. Will that work for you?”
“Yes,” Julian said, thinking that if it was all set, wasn’t it a little late to be asking the supposed guest of honor if he was free? He was tempted to tell Craig he’d made arrangements to pick up his stuff in New York, but figured that would send Craig into an apoplectic collapse.