I shrug, then cross my arms over my chest. “Something to consider.”
Brent has joined the conversation. Standing beside Harmony, his hand around her waist, he says, “Think about it, Marilynn.” Brent’s always called her Marilynn. Even when he was little. I don’t know how he gets away with it, honestly.
“If you don’t like their mother, I’m sure you won’t be able to keep that to yourself.”
“Hudson. This is blackmail.”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
Angrily, she snaps, “I’m leaving.”
ChapterThirty-Six
WILLA
I don’t thinkhis mother is ever going to accept me.
Am I okay with that?
I wouldn’t want to come between Hudson and his family. Ever. And I wouldn’t have thought he’d want that either, but he was so quick to take my side. To claim me over his family that I nearly fainted. It also told me something I hadn’t realized. I love Hudson Adler.
But again. I don’t want him to cut ties with his family for me.
So, that’s why I’m here. Standing in front of the Adler’s massive home in Winnetka, a suburb just north of the city and a place known for stately homes like this one. I’ve been holding my breath, attempting to work up the courage to ring the bell. “I can do this.” I can.
Hudson doesn’t know I’m here, by the way. Before he left for work, he asked me what I was doing today, and I informed him that I was going to fine-tune my resume, just in case, and run up north to my apartment to pick up a few things. I didn’t mention I intended to go even further north to Winnetka.
Pressing the button, the sound causes me to roll my eyes because it’s not a buzz or even a bell, it’s playing some sort of organ music loud enough for me and anyone passing by to hear.
“I suppose it has to be loud.” The house must be ten thousand square feet.
I wait for several moments. They know someone is here because I had to press a different button to get through the gate.
Muttering, I speculate, “Maybe they’re calling the cops on me.”
I hear the click of a lock disengaging and wait. The door slowly opens, revealing a man in his late sixties. “May I help you?”
They have a butler?
Of course, they have a butler.
“Is Mrs. Adler home?”
He eyes me warily. I don’t blame him. At least I don’t look terrible. I’m wearing the green dress today, and I’ve got to say, I think I like it more than the black one. “Your name, please, madame.”
Madame? Could be worse. He could’ve called me ma’am.
“Willa Clariday.”
“One moment.”
The door slowly shuts in my face, leaving me standing on the porch. I take that time to look about the place. Their home, like I said, is huge. The exterior is red brick. There’s a huge circle driveway that leads you to this front door. In the center of the circle driveway is a fountain with a statue of some sort of anguished Greek guy in the middle. Water is pouring out of a vessel he’s got in his arms.
To be honest, it’s not my cup of tea, that sort of art. It’s too formal, too stuffy. While I’d love to travel to Greece and see the real stuff, having a fake version in my front yard doesn’t appeal. The house is pretty though. Formal like the statue, but it all fits the Marilynn Adler I’ve grown to know.
The door opens again, revealing the butler. “Right this way, madame.”
I follow him in through a massive foyer with ceilings as tall as the house. On the right is a grand staircase that belongs on that showDownton Abbey. “Wow.” I say to myself. Even though I said it’s not my style, I can appreciate the grandeur. When Mrs. Adler appears, face pinched in distaste, I go ahead with, “You have a lovely home.”
