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That explained the stables then. They were billionaires. The kind Hill did business with. He handled corporate real estate in Atlanta. I wondered if they knew him. They had seen the news, so if they knew of him, then wouldn’t they have mentioned it? Maeme would have said something, surely. I decided against bringing it up.
“I’ve been overseeing things in Vegas for a few years. One of our casinos and handling the purchase of another one. But I’m thinking it’s time to come home. That life was fun for a while, but when I go back, I start missing this place almost immediately.”
I could understand that. Even if they weren’t all blood, they might as well be. Having a family that big must be incredible. I wouldn’t want to leave it either. You’d never feel lonely or lost. Someone would always be there for you when you needed it. If this had been my family, then I’d have had someone to call the first time that Hill had hit me. They would have saved me, and I wouldn’t be in this mess.
The lights outside caught my attention, and I turned to look at what we were approaching. It was phenomenal and lit up like a castle. The stone exterior matched the stables, but it was all just more. Much more. There was even a turret on each end of the mansion, making it appear even more castle-like.
“Whoa,” I breathed as he pulled the car around to the side of the house and down into what appeared to be an underground parking garage. There were at least ten other vehicles parked under here. “And I didn’t think it could get any more impressive,” I muttered as he pulled into a parking spot.
He cut the engine and opened his car door. “We like cars,” was all he said.
I stepped out of the Porsche and looked at the other expensive vehicles of all kinds. Sports, SUVs, convertibles, all luxury. Shaking my head in amazement, I turned back to see Sebastian standing there, watching me with his hands tucked in the front pockets of his jeans.
“Ready?” he asked. “Or we could take one of these for a spin. Your call.”
I laughed and started in his direction. “No, that’s okay. I think staying here is the best idea.”
“All right,” he replied. “This way.”
We walked over to what I thought was a solid stone wall until I heard a click, and a door slid open to reveal the inside of an elevator. I wanted to laugh at how insane this was getting, but I didn’t. I stepped in behind Sebastian, and he pressed a code instead of one of the buttons, and the doors closed.
“How many floors is it?” I asked him.
“Four,” he replied. “And a basement.”
The doors opened back up, and a wide hallway with a marble floor stretched before us. He waved for me to go out, and I did, doing my best not to gawk, but finding it almost impossible.
“This way to the kitchen,” he said and started to go left.
We walked through two different hallways, through a large sitting room with a roaring fire in a fireplace bigger than I had ever seen, then down another hallway before we reached what no one I had ever met would call a kitchen. It was much too elaborate to be labeled as such.
“Minna made a Mexican spread.” He went to the buffet set out with silver covers over serving dishes that were sitting over warmers. “Fajitas,” he began, looking under one, then continued, “enchiladas, refried beans, tamales, mole,” until he took off the last cover. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“That is for two people?” I asked.
He shrugged. “More or less. Some of the guys might stop by later and eat. Never know for sure. What’s not eaten Minna will pack up and take home with her. She hates to cook for her family since she cooks here all day, so she takes the leftovers.”
That made a little more sense. At least this food wasn’t wasted.
“She’ll have the cold stuff in the fridge, trayed up for us,” he said and walked over to open a commercial-sized refrigerator that had been camouflaged to blend in with the cabinetry. He pulled out a long silver tray and set it on the island bar. “This should be it. Grab a plate and fill up,” he said with a smile.
What kind of world had I walked into?
• twenty-one •
“Okay, so maybe I let her have too much.”
Rumor
I licked the salt from my lips that had been on the rim of my margarita glass, then giggled. Sebastian was critiquing Ocean’s Eleven and what they should have done differently while I drank my third margarita because he kept filling my glass without asking if I wanted more. It seemed he got funnier the more I drank.
After we had eaten our dinner in the kitchen, he had taken the pitcher of margarita left by Minna and led me to a theater in their house. It had five rows of long brown leather sofas that were made up of reclining seats. We sat in the second row, and he pulled down a divider between our seats that had holders that fit our glasses. There was a table that came under the seats and popped up in front of us, where he put the pitcher, along with tamales. He had said he might get hungry again.
I was not getting hungry again. I was stuffed. But I figured he might.
The last time I had been to a movie theater was when Hill and I were dating. He’d taken me to many places. It had been part of his grand scheme to get me to marry him. Just so he could beat me and control me. I shoved that thought away. I was having fun. I hadn’t had fun in a very long time. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had fun. I was sure the margarita was helping me with this, but I did not care.
“There you are,” a deep voice said, and I startled, sloshing my margarita, but not spilling it—thank goodness. “You didn’t answer my text.”
