“Thanks, Al.”
Annabelle took the back seat in the golf cart so Ethan could sit next to the man he’d called Al and catch up. This gave her time to look around. The place was so big. They drove along a path that was bordered with flowers. Around it the grass was cut short, and the fences were level. There were no weeds or anything out of place. It was pristine, immaculate. Everything her eyes fell on was big and expensive. She wasn’t used to this kind of excessive wealth, so it was an amazing sight, but she wasn’t sure she’d want to grow up surrounded by it. Having no money hadn’t been fun either, but this…this was just way too much.
They drove around to the front of the house, and that was even more impressive. Four huge columns and steps led to a fountain spouting water from two gold lions standing on their hind legs. She must have made a noise because Ethan turned to look at her, but she carefully schooled her features into a pleasant smile.
“Thanks,” she said to Al as she climbed out and reached for her bag.
“I’ll take that, Ms. Smith.” Al had it in his hands before she could grab it.
“Okay, sure.” She didn’t ask how he knew her name, just followed as he led them up the steps and into the main entranceway. Ethan prowled at her side. Inside, tall palms flanked the front door and a large picture of a man who looked like Ethan resided on the wall facing the doors.
“Your father?”
Ethan nodded but said nothing further. His face was tense, his eyes hooded as he avoided looking directly at her.
“The family is waiting for you in the conservatory, Mr. Gelderman.”
A woman in uniform who Annabelle guessed was a maid arrived as they reached a round room with really high ceilings. There were three exits, two near impressive sets of stairs on the right and left, and a middle one on the same floor. The chandelier above her was so big her mouth literally dropped open.
“Thanks, Ellie.” Ethan said, then took Annabelle’s arm and started for the set of steps that led to the left.
“Is this weird for you, after washing your own shorts for so long?” Annabelle said, walking at his side. The carpet was so thick her heels sank into it.
“I’d rather be back in Brook washing my own shorts.” His words were strained, so Annabelle slipped her hand into his and entwined their fingers.
“I’ve got your back, Ethan, remember.”
He stopped and pulled her into his arms, her front pressed to his. He didn’t speak and Annabelle felt the thump of his heart against her chest as he rested his forehead on hers. Each muscle was taut, as if it his body was preparing to be attacked.
“Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
“I have to say this is a whole other side to you, Gelderman. Kind of wimpy but sensitive. I like it.”
He snorted and gave her a final squeeze. “You stay sassy for me, Smith, and I just may get through this.”
Annabelle saw wealth everywhere they walked. Then she heard the hum of voices ahead. Ethan’s fingers tightened around hers, making her own tension ratchet up several notches as he led her through a set of double doors.
She saw the man first, and knew it had to be Ethan Gelderman Number Four. He was sitting in a high-backed armchair. He was as big as Ethan, but his hair was gray and the eyes were the color of the caramel in the middle of Buster’s double chocolate muffins. He was smiling, and to Annabelle he didn’t look like an asshole, but she knew appearances could be deceiving. His broad shoulders were encased in a pale blue business shirt that he wore open at the neck, and beneath it were charcoal grey trousers. His cowboy boots were black to match his belt.
On a sofa to his right sat an immaculately dressed woman who Annabelle guessed was Ethan’s mother. She was wearing a pale green dress with an emerald necklace that seemed slightly over the top for the middle of the day, but then what did she know. It was from her that Ethan got his coloring. Her black hair was piled high and her cold, emotionless face was perfectly applied with makeup. Her eyes were the same blue as her eldest son’s.
“Mother, Father.” Beside her Ethan nodded, and a quick look at his face told Annabelle he had hidden everything away; he was now in control of his emotions. He wore a small, polite smile and his features looked like they’d been carved from granite. “This is my friend, Annabelle Smith.”
“Welcome home, son.” His father rose first. Coming forward, he hugged his son, who did not respond; Ethan’s hands hung at his side, fists clenched. Mr. Gelderman then turned and took Annabelle’s hand, raising it to his lips.
“Ms. Smith, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you also, Mr. Gelderman,” Annabelle said, and then he returned to his seat.
“Hello, Ethan.” Next to greet them had to be Hope, the bride-to-be. She was taller than Annabelle, and her hair was blonde with lighter streaks. She was dressed more casually than the others, but still in something Annabelle bet had cost the equivalent of two months of her salary.
“I’ve missed you,” Ethan’s sister then added, rising to her toes so she could kiss his cheek.
“Hope, you’re making a scene in front of Ethan’s guest,” Mrs. Gelderman said.
Scene? Annabelle looked at Mrs. Gelderman to see if she was serious. Hope hadn’t even raised her voice.
“Sorry, Mother.” Hope squeezed her brother’s hand, and Ethan returned the gesture but said nothing. The parents couldn’t see that their daughter’s knuckles were white as she gripped her big brother’s hands, or that their eyes spoke volumes before Hope pulled away to address Annabelle.
