The One He Won't Talk About

(Zara) The house above the water was not what I expected, and the man in it even less so. I'd built a picture on the drive up, the way you do. A cold patriarch in a cold house, the origin of everything guarded in Sebastian. What I found was a place worn soft by one person living in it too long, books stacked where books shouldn't go, a blanket on every chair, and an old man on the terrace who looked up at me like he'd been curious about me for a while. "So," he said, before Sebastian could finish the introduction. "The one he won't talk about." I glanced at Sebastian. "He doesn't talk about me?" "He talks about the company. The account. The weather, if I let him." The old man's eyes had the same quality Sebastian's did, the sense of being read down to the studs, except where Sebastian