Grey Gods

Chapter One - Fresh Start

Lana:

The ad is too good to be true.

I slide my sunglasses down my face and gape at the stone driveway, the red roof tiles and white stucco walls.

I  check the address again.

Yep. This is the right place.

I slide my glasses back up my nose and turn off my car, suspicious. There has got to be a catch, aka: a creepy pervert renter. Which to go with today's theme, would make this house number four with a creepy pervert renter, and I'm really hoping otherwise. Not just because the house looks unreal on the outside, but I'm running out of options and time.

I reach for my gallon of water I bought at a gas station earlier this morning and chug it. Texas heat will literally kill you if you don't stay hydrated. I need water with me at all times, and lots of it.

Checking my reflection in my rear-view mirror, I rummage through my purse and grab my perfume and breath mints. I re-do my ponytail, take a deep breath, and finally leave my car.

Dry heat beats down upon my face. I break a sweat just walking up the driveway, realizing when I reach the top, there's a tiled walkway off to the right that leads to the grand main door. To the left, the driveway flattens and continues around the house to an unseen garage.

There's an abundance of shrubbery and tall trees and Aloe Vera stalks surrounding the home, making it look wild and lived in. Terra cotta pots decorate two beveled steps that showcase a soft arched entry. The urge to tilt my head back in its tower-like silhouette and spin around once is too strong to ignore.

"Wow." I breathe out, then I straighten up and raise my hand to knock on the impressive front doors. They look like they belong in a castle.

I glance down at my t-shirt and wipe away invisible crumbs and wrinkles, fully grasping the fact that I'm getting my hopes up.

I can't even begin to tell you how relieved I am to see a short Hispanic woman beaming at me with the most friendliest smile I'd seen in months, and not another creepy old man on the other side of that door.

And to top it all off? She pronounces my name right without me having to correct her.

No, it's Law-Nah, not Lan-Nah. God, I get sick of saying that.

"You must be Lana. Buenas tardes."

"Buenas tardes." I say, and shake her hand, stunned by the name thing.

Too good to be true, that little voice warns.

"I'm Cat."

She has a strong shake and wise eyes that examined mine thoughtfully.

"You're here for the ad?"

I nod demurely. "Yes."

Cat gestures for me to come inside. "Por favor. Come in."

Giddiness ripples through me when I cross the threshold. I can't stop the smile spreading over my face as I wander inside.

It's traditional and welcoming, with exposed wood beams, vaulted ceilings, iron chandeliers and complimenting wall sconces. The rooms feel warm and aged, each one cozier than the next. I imagine myself sitting on the bench in the courtyard, reading a book by the fountain, when Cat asks me where I'm from.

"Odessa."

"Mmm." She makes a sound of understanding. "Small town. What brings you San Antonio? Work?"