The impressive mini-castles along Ocean Boulevard in Newport Beach were among Southern California’s most prized waterfront property. One peach-colored monstrosity seemed glaringly out of place when compared to the neighboring homes. A low, gold-plated fence with goddess statues every few feet boasted an unwelcomed gaudiness. A black Bentley sat parked in the driveway next to a burgundy Jaguar. An intentional show of wealth that begged to be noticed. Inside, The Shepherd plodded barefoot up and down the length of his great room, creating deep imprints in the plush gold-speckled beige carpet. The room was the size of two large garages, with high ceilings, fat leather chairs and a wall of glass that looked out over the aqua-blue waters. It had the feel of a model home that had yet to be lived in. The Shepherd bore a baby face and the earnestness of a young TV anchorman. In sweats and a polo shirt, he resembled a college freshman. He’d created the look first, then altered his personality to fit it.
What do You think about Anybody's Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2)?
