Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 740(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
The place is mind-blowingly bougie, as well as a working vineyard that produces one of the region’s best rosé. I sound like I’ve read the brochure.
“Does the boss entertain while he’s here?” I pop an olive into my mouth, unimpressed I’d asked. I lean my elbows against the island in a very high-end kitchen. Pale wood cabinetry and top of the range appliances set into walls of ancient stone, and fancy pendant lights hanging from the vaulted ceilings.
I find myself periodically glancing up because I’m on gecko high alert. God, they give me the heebie-jeebies. Their almost translucent skin, their creepy lidless eyes, and freaky toe pads.
“You okay? Zoe asks as I give in to a shiver.
“Yeah, good.” I glance ceilingward again. My sister reckons I must’ve been fly or a moth in a previous life to harbour so much hate.
“He’s had a dinner or two here since I’ve worked for the family,” Zoe answers, now concentrating on a large mixing bowl as she carefully folds its contents. “And always business.” Her mouth gives an unimpressed twist.
“It’s a lot of house for a vacation home.” I glance at the range that looks like it belongs in a commercial kitchen. Behind it, copper pans hang in graduated sizes, worn with use and age.
Maria, the housekeeper, gave me the grand tour when we arrived a few days ago, but I still need a GPS to get around. And that’s just the house, because a person could easily get lost within the grounds. In fact, I almost did earlier this afternoon.
Sylvie wanted to visit her pony and insisted on running ahead. Maria’s husband or Sophia, her granddaughter, usually takes her, which meant I wasn’t sure where the heck we were heading. One minute, I was following the back of Sylvie’s white-blonde head, and the next, I stood in the shade of the palm trees, wondering if the boss who hates me would send out a search party. Thankfully, the little love realized I wasn’t behind her and came scampering back.
“Oh, Jacques said to give this to you.” She pulls a white envelope from a nearby shelf and slides it across the countertop.
“Thanks.” I peel open the unsealed flap.
“Anything interesting?”
“Just my ticket home.” I’d made a point of demanding it. I wanted to make it abundantly clear I’m out of here as soon as possible. Twenty-five days and counting.
“Cattle class,” she says with a sigh. “At least your flight will be pretty short.”
“Yes.” It can’t come quickly enough. “Do you think I should go and look for the kids? They’ve been with Maria a long time.”
“Nah, they love hanging out with her and Sophia.”
Story checks out. Since we got here, I’ve barely had to look after them. When they want to swim, they come looking for me, but mostly they’re off doing their own thing. Or at least doing things without me.
“Does Maria’s granddaughter live with her?”
“She’s just here for the summer to visit her grandparents and their pooch, Bouton.”
“There is nothing button-like about his size,” I reply. “What is he? One-part Great Dane, one-part wolf?”
“I think there might be some pony in there.” She glances at the clock. “I expect Sylvie will be helping Sophia muck out the stables right about now. She’ll be yammering in her ear while staring adoringly at that dog. She’s desperate for a dog.”
“Is she?”
“Crazy desperate. Meanwhile, Felix will be gazing doe-eyed over his shovel at a certain female. He’s desperate for a girlfriend. A girlfriend called Sophia.” Her brows lift tellingly.
“No.” I scoff, then add, “Really?”
“Yup.”
“Isn’t he a bit young?”
“Apparently, the men start young in the du Beaumont household.”
Fuq moi, is that even normal? As the youngest sibling of our brood, and an aunt to only littlies, I have no idea how boys of twelve work.
“A chip off the old block.” At her tone, I glance sharply her way. “The boss is also a fan of older ladies,” she adds.
I almost say that’s not my experience but snap my mouth closed instead.
Monsieur LDH likes older women? Brain, back away from that thought because it requires no further examination.
I mean, the older generations do have a lot to offer, but I’ve seen the framed photo Sylvie has of her mother by her bed. She wasn’t any kind of old. She was stunning.
“Think I should go and keep an eye on him? Felix, I mean.”
She gives a laugh with the kind of confidence I long to buy into. “Sophia is fifteen. That boy hasn’t got a chance.”
“Still, maybe I should—”
“Sit. Take the wins when they come. You’ll get enough of them this month, believe me.”
“If you’re sure,” I mutter unhappily at the sudden reminder. It’s not spending time with the kids that annoys me but how this whole thing came about. Curse his pretty face for forcing me to come along to the house named after his joyful late wife.