Without a flicker of her eyelid, the woman pivoted and trotted off.
Jack and I followed her down the elegant hallway with the high barrel ceiling, heading toward the end of the house, and walked into a spacious pale blue room that appeared ready for a photoshoot for luxurious living. I slowed, taking in the place decked with white couches, a gorgeous stone fireplace, and French doors, overlooking the patio and gardens. Tall, potted shrubs, along with a colorful painting above the mantel, broke the icy hue of the room.
“Ms. Marie, your brother and his friend are here.”
Jack’s sister jumped up from the couch, her magazine falling to the floor. “Jack—Ray!” Then she reached out and gave me a tight squeeze, startling me. “I’m so happy Jack brought you.”
“It’s good to see you, Marie,” I said, returning her hug before easing back.
“Marie.” Jack embraced his sister and then gently touched her jaw. “You okay?”
“As good as I can ever be,” she said on a sigh.
She appeared tired. Sad. After what she’d been through, I wasn’t surprised. It would take time for her to get through what her slimeball of a husband had done. I hurt for her.
“What’s going on? Did he contact you?” Jack demanded.
“No.” She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her waist. “I…I filed for a divorce. He’s angry. Grandmother thinks we should go for counseling and try to fix this.”
Jack stilled, his tension wrapping around me like a noose. A nerve pulsed on his rigid jaw. I half expected him to yell or something, but his tone went quiet. “What do you want, Marie?”
She blinked her teary brown eyes. Her throat worked as if she couldn’t swallow. “It’s been nine years, Jack. I can’t do it anymore—can’t live like that. I want a little happiness if I can find it.”
Jack drew her back into his arms and just held her. “I’m here for you, any time. Just call me.”
Sniffing, she eased back. “Thank you.”
Movement at the doorway had me glancing back. A willowy, attractive older woman, sporting auburn-brown hair pulled into a chignon low at her nape, swayed inside and stopped. She wore a fitted, cream, sheath-style dress and matching pumps. A single string of pearls graced her neck.
Her dark eyes shifted between Jack and me. “Jack. It’s good to see you.” Her smile wobbled. “You-you brought a friend.”
Jack’s lips tightened. “This is Rayen Logan, my girlfriend. Ray, my…mother, Vivienne Griffin.”
“You’ve never brought anyone home before.” Another shaky smile appeared, directed at me this time. An air of defeat…or maybe sadness surrounded her. She slowly glided over, then air-kissed my cheeks. A sharp whiff of vodka hit me.
Crap. I eased back. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Griffin.”
“It’s barely midday, Mother,” Jack muttered in irritation.
“I know, dear. It was only one…” Her shoulder lifted in a helpless shrug. She swayed—
“Mother!” Marie hastily grabbed her and led her to the couch. Mrs. Griffin held the armrest and slowly lowered down.
Jack didn’t say a word. His jaw set, he stared at his mother for several seconds, then he glanced at Marie. “Where is she?”
His sister cut him a worried look as she answered. “The study.”
He nodded and grasped my hand. As we headed for the door, his mother called out, “J-Jack, wait.” He just shook his head and walked out.
I remained silent, too overwhelmed to speak. And having to meet the grandmother from Hell again really wasn’t on the top of my to-do list. I was just glad Jack didn’t ask me to wait for him with his mother and sister. The melancholy in the blue living room rubbed me raw.
I had a family that loved each other and stood together no matter what.
My poor Jack. He didn’t appear to have a happy family life. I wanted to hug him, but later, once we were away from this cold house. Thank God he had Nigel.
Silently, I followed Jack down the corridor, and moments later entered a smaller, pale green living room-slash-library, with wooden shelves and cream couches facing each other. Opposite us was a shut French door, which, I had a feeling, led into the study.
“I won’t be long,” he said, then he slid the door open and strode into the room.
