The Man Beside My Fireplace

# CHAPTER 1: The Man Beside My Fireplace

I went to my lake house to meet a potential buyer — only to discover my daughter's father-in-law had been renting it to strangers without my permission.

What stunned me most wasn't the guests.

It was the way he acted as though the house already belonged to him.

"Who exactly gave you permission to rent out my house?" I demanded, my voice carrying across the great room and bringing every conversation to an abrupt stop.

The man standing beside my fireplace smiled as if I were the one who had accidentally stepped into someone else's property.

"Take it easy, Diane," he replied casually.

"Madison already told us this place is pretty much theirs."

I stared at Richard Hale, my daughter's father-in-law, while six strangers slowly turned toward me, wineglasses still in their hands.

Nobody spoke, and the silence grew so uncomfortable that someone finally reached over and switched off the country music playing near the kitchen.

Richard didn't move from his spot beside the stone fireplace.

Dressed in khaki slacks and a navy quilted vest, he looked more irritated than embarrassed, as though answering my question was an unnecessary inconvenience.

Behind him, two suitcases sat at the foot of my staircase, while a young couple lounged comfortably on my leather sofa.

Another woman was taking pictures through the glass doors overlooking the lake, and a man I had never met was slicing oranges on my walnut cutting board.

I looked Richard directly in the eyes.

"Answer my question."

He spread his hands.

"I just did."

"No, you didn't."

His confident smile weakened slightly.

"Madison told us we could manage the property."

"My daughter does not own this house."

"She will."

"That doesn't make it hers today."

A woman seated near the sofa carefully lowered her wineglass.

"Excuse me," she interrupted, sounding increasingly uncomfortable.