Page 105 of The Rebel Billionaire

“Oh, for goodness sake,” Mother says, shooing us away. “Go and sit down. You don’t need to stand in line and wait for her to enter.”

I look at my siblings and chuckle, turning to leave just as the front door opens.

“Brooke,” Gabbi says, running forward and pulling a startled Brooke in for a hug.

Her arms come up around my sister as she returns the hug.

“It’s great to see you again,” Brooke says, pulling back slightly. “Have you recovered from your flight? It sounded horrendous.”

I frown.

What?

Have my sister and Brooke been communicating since Italy?

Gabbi rolls her eyes in dramatic fashion. “The stopover was a nightmare. There was not a single hotel room available. I wasn’t sure I’d make it back in time. I finally arrived late last night. Thanks for all the messages. You kept me sane.”

Oh fuck! My PA and sister have decided to become BFFs.

“Hi, I’m Lorenzo, but everyone calls me Enzo. I’m the middle one, and of course the much better looking,” he says, stepping forward and holding out his hand. “This is my daughter, Avril.”

Gabbi clocks him around the head while Avril rolls her eyes at her father.

“Hi,” she says, copying her father and holding out her hand to Brooke, who smiles before taking it in greeting.

“Hi, Avril, I’m pleased to meet you. I have a niece around the same age as you.”

“Really?”

She nods. “I have older brothers and a sister,” she says.

She barely mentions her family unless asked, and I wonder whether coming to the US was her way of escaping their protective hold. She mentioned them being protective, but is it more than that? After all, she could have gone home. There were plenty of flights still available if she’d wanted to take one. I didn’t question her or Mother about it. Whatever her reasons, they’re her own.

I need boundaries.

“Come in, come in,” Mother says, appearing in the doorway.

Brooke turns back towards the door and retrieves a bag full of gifts.

“Brooke?” Mother says.

Brooke smiles.

“We have a tradition at Christmas. We exchange small gifts, usually at the dinner table, instead of crackers. You must guess what each gift is.”

“Oh, lovely,” Mother says.

“If you’d rather not, it’s fine,” Brooke says with an awkward smile.

“I love the idea,” Gabbi says, linking her arm through Brooke’s. “Brooke told me about it, so I picked up something for her too.”

Typical Gabbi, always coming to the rescue.

Mother surprises me by smiling. “That’s fine. We love other people’s traditions,” she lies. “Apart from the traditional dinner and present opening, we don’t have many of our own.”

Dad appears from the back of the house, having decided to return with Gabbi so he could spend Christmas with the family.

“You must be Brooke,” he says. “Welcome.”