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The property was gorgeous, and it seemed as if the driveway never ended. Huge trees mixed in with the lush greenery that covered the iron fence around the land for complete privacy. You couldn’t see anything behind the landscaped wall as I drove closer to what I assumed was the entrance.
One thing was for sure: they wanted undisclosed privacy and had spent a small fortune to provide it. The driveway was about a hundred yards, leading to a roundabout where I parked my car. There were limestone pavers that led all around the enormous property.
This place gave my parents' estate a run for their money. As I made my way to the mansion door, I took in all my surroundings. I instantly felt a strong connection with this place for some reason. I couldn’t put my finger on why I would, but something about it was extremely familiar to me even though that didn’t make a lick of sense.
I walked under the stoned path between the ten cathedral archways, five on each side, until I arrived at the mahogany wooden door that had to be at least fifty feet high. The door opened for me, and I was greeted by a man dressed in a butler uniform.
“Hello,” he addressed, nodding for me to step inside. “Please follow me,” he ordered politely.
I walked into a beautiful foyer, probably the size of a standard apartment. A beautiful chrome-finished crystal chandelier hung above my head, and two of the most elegant stairwells flowed tastefully to the marble floors opposite of each other as I followed the older gentleman toward the back of the home.
Expensive art lined all the walls, and still, I couldn’t shake the familiarity of what I was feeling and why. As soon as we walked into his office, black leather couches sat face-to-face with a glass table in the middle. Stunningly designed mirrors hung on one wall, while the other three were meticulously covered in classic paintings.
“Oh wow,” I rasped, captivated by the painting closest to me. “That’s my favorite artist. There are only three paintings in the world.”
The butler nodded. “He’s quite the collector of rare pieces, Miss Locke.”
I couldn’t help but notice how the room had a certain aura about it. It felt like I was about to make a deal with the devil himself.
“Would you like something to drink? Coffee, perhaps?”
I nodded. “That’d be great. Thank you.”
He excused himself and left.
While waiting for something to happen, I sat on the soft leather sofa and admired the granite fireplace. Minutes later, I heard footsteps down the hall. I stood, readjusting my designer black pencil skirt that I wore with a white silk collared blouse. Red sole heels finished off my professional outfit.
My phone dinged with a text message.
“Shit,” I whispered, grabbing it out of my purse to put it on silent before he came into the room. Unfortunately, my jittery, nervous hand dropped my phone on the floor, and it fumbled under the couch.
Oh God!
This skirt was far too tight to bend over in, let alone get on my hands and knees, but I literally had no other choice.
“Please, don’t rip,” I murmured to my skirt as I slowly fell to my knees.
I waited for a second in case it ripped, and so far, I was good to go. While I scrambled around trying to grab my cell phone, the sounds of his shoes made their way into his office.
“I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, crawling on the side of the couch to reach for my phone. “My cell phone fell under your couch! Just give me one second.”
Of course, it was deep in there, and I had to lie on the side of my arm to pull it out.
“I got it.”
By the time I had it steady in my grasp, his black leather dress shoes were in my face since I was still on all fours.
Could this get any worse?
I barely had a moment to gather my bearings before he announced,
“Hello, beauty.”
CHAPTER SIX
CAPRI
“You had me at 'hello.’” —Jerry Maguire
