When I finally reach the staircase, I’m officially spiraling. It was easier to ignore the overwhelming opulence at night, when I was only faced with the path to the dining room and the quick beeline up to her room. I was aware of the obscene wealth surrounding me, but able to develop tunnel vision to temporarily ignore it with the help of a few bottles of wine.
She has no idea who we are.Bo’s teasing words bounce around my skull as I start down the stairs.No wonder they thought I expected a reward. Emmeline’s net worth is likely more than I’ll see in three lifetimes.
Getting turned around a few times, I eventually come across the living room, finding my purse neatly placed on top of the coffee table. Descending into the pit, I scoop it up, take a final look around with a twisting feeling in my gut, then promptly head for the front door.
Slipping on my shoes and setting the handle lock so that it’ll latch behind me, I gently close the door so that I don’t wake the rest of the house. The stone steps lead to a winding path that guides me to the driveway, and after a brief hesitation, I cup my hands in the fountain and take a drink of water before drying my hands off on my dress.
It feels an awful lot like a walk of shame without all of the fun of getting laid.
The driveway seems to stretch on forever before I’m finally walking through the dramatic cut between the trees flanking the road on either side of me. They act like a living privacy fence, and it strikes me as odd that they left the gate wide open. It was like that when we drove here last night, too; Bo never hit a button to let us in. An open invitation for people to wander onto their land, when Slade’s words last night made it clear they’re not big on unexpected company.
Pulling out my phone as I walk down the sidewalk, I bring up an app to call a rideshare, but cringe as soon as the quoted price flashes onto the screen. It was a decent drive last night, but I didn’t think it wasthatfar. Admittedly though, Bo was keeping me distracted enough that I wasn’t paying much attention until we got here.
“Sabrina!”Speak of the devil.Turning to reply, I pause when I see Bo jogging to catch up with me, clad in only a pair of grey basketball shorts like he rolled out of bed and immediately came to hunt me down.
Guess I didn’t need that drink after all, I could have just waited twenty minutes for my mouth to water.
“Morning.”
He simply scowls. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Raising an eyebrow at his gruff tone, I tuck my phone back into my purse. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
Scrubbing a hand down his face, he growls in annoyance, like he’s still half-asleep. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I told you I’d give you a ride home.”
“Yes, because I was going to go snooping around your mansion, popping my head in random rooms while everyone was sleeping. Do you have any idea how terrible that would have looked if I bumped into someone else before finding you, like I was going through your stuff?” Rolling my eyes, I add, “Besides, I’m not exactly an ‘up and at ‘em, Jeeves, bring the car around’ sort of person.”
His lip twitches, and I have to seriously focus to keep my eyes on his face. But fuck, those shorts are the summer version of grey sweatpants, and they’re doing him all sorts of justice right now.
“I’d have gone with, ‘Hey, Bo, get your lazy ass up and find me some aspirin’, but what do I know?” He tilts his head to gesture at the house. “Come on, I’ll grab my keys and take you home.”
Stomach somersaulting, I follow him back to the entrance of their property. “Why don’t you keep your gate locked? It’s like you’re asking to get robbed.”
Refusing to meet my eye, he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “We usually do when we know someone isn’t due in or out. I had it closed last night when you threatened to walk home drunk to make sure you didn’t wander off when we were sleeping, but Reid insisted that made it look like we weren’t letting you leave, so he changed the code on me.”
Grinning, I glance at him from the corner of my eye. “He’s got a good point. First you and Emmy insisted I don’t take a cab, then you wouldn’t drive me home so dinner turned into a sleepover. If I’d have come out here and it was closed, I’d have been pretty screwed since I locked the door behind me on my way out.”
He scrunches up his face in honest confusion. “You could have knocked, you wouldn’t have been screwed.”
The massive stone house that may as well be a castle grows more intimidating with every step we take, so I choose to look at Bo instead, though that’s not much less imposing of a sight. My heart is busy hammering away, incredibly out of my element, but I push through my nerves.
“If I wasn’t going to go checking rooms because I was worried about bothering someone, I sure as shit wasn’t about to wake up the entire house by banging on the front door. Besides, it’d take a week for the echo to reach all the way to your room; I’d have been better off hopping the fence, even if I looked ridiculous attempting it.”
Snorting in amusement at the visual, he pushes open the front door, leading the way to the kitchen. “So I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume I can’t con you into staying for breakfast?”
“Why, Boden Insertlastnamehere, that sounded an awful lot like flirting.”
His sharp bark of laughter bounces around the kitchen as he snatches a set of keys off of a hook beside the door that leads to the attached garage. “Hawthorne. And if you weren’t sure if I was or not, I’m clearly not doing a good job of it, so I apologize.”
Following him into the garage, I climb into the passenger seat of his sleek, black car. Not my area of expertise by any means, but after seeing their house, I’m going to go out on a limb and assume if someone scratched the paint on this baby, they’re getting sued. “Truth be told, after the way you were all treating the secret of your pedigree lineage, I assumed it’d be a big deal. Or at least, your name would ring a bell.”
He cocks his head. “Ow. My pride.”
I shrug a single shoulder, unrepentant. “Not my fault you think so highly of yourselves that people will trip over themselves to get into your good graces. Though to be fair, unless you were a popular author, I probably wouldn’t know, anyway. The only reason I know the name of the guy that owns Mal Tech is because I see it on paperwork all of the time, otherwise I wouldn’t have a clue.” Clicking my seatbelt, I blink up at his surprised face, getting a sick thrill in watching his ego deflate right before my eyes. “We don’t really stand around the water cooler discussing trust fund babies and keeping track of their assets, I hate to tell you.”
Clucking his tongue, he fires up the ignition, throwing his arm over the back of my seat to look out the rear windshield as he backs out of the garage. “Damn, you go right for the jugular, don’t you, killer?”
“Nah, I just don’t think wealth is a personality trait. If no one can state a single fact about you that isn’t associated with your value, you don’t really have one in their eyes.”
