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Chapter Fourteen
Talia
We pull up to a house that is so huge, it can only be described as palatial. I immediately question my outfit choice. Following Archer’s lead of jeans and a button-down, I opted for dark-wash jeans and a white shirt with a sweater layered over top. The grandness of his family’s home suggests a formal dress would be more appropriate.
“I didn’t know I was meeting the queen.” I tip my head back to take in the gargantuan structure. Balconies, columns, a zillion windows…it’s beautiful. The front door is both wide and tall with ornate bronze handles and detailing. Bloomless rosebushes flank the walkway, and tall, naked trees peer at us from around the sides of the house. A few proud pines are holding their needles.
“It’s not a fancy ordeal,” he assures me, but I have my doubts. He grew up in this environment. Fancy could be his norm.
Me, I grew up with enough, but never too much. I was aware of how hard my parents worked for their money, and I knew it didn’t come easy. My mom worked late nights at the restaurant to afford everything her teenage daughters needed. She helped me buy my first used car. My compact Chevy was an embarrassment to me when I first got my driver’s license, but I smile whenever I think of that teal-blue-with-rust-holes monstrosity. I wonder what kind of car Archer drove as a teen. It’s safe to bet it had no rust holes. He’s spoken about how his parents haven’t always been billionaires, but it’s hard to picture them struggling in the face of such opulence.
The cars in the driveway echo that thought. Archer’s Mercedes. Another Mercedes. A BMW. Nate’s Tesla. I pause in front of it. The Tesla acted as a white horse the icy day he and Archer rode to the rescue. Archer notices my staring, squeezes my hand in his, and then places a succinct kiss on my mouth.
Behind the massive front door, Nate is standing next to a smiling, dark-haired Benji, both of them holding glasses of champagne. Their heads turn when Archer and I walk in together. I register their surprise and smile to cover for my nerves. I haven’t met a boyfriend’s parents since I was engaged. Not that Archer qualifies as a boyfriend, but after learning how disapproving his father has been about his past girlfriends, bringing me here seems significant.
“Late,” Nate grumbles to Archer, a second before his amiable half-smile appears. He greets me next, lifting my hand. The tip of his crooked nose brushes my hand as he kisses my knuckles. I muse how attractive he is and how fitting a partner he is for sassy, take-no-crap Vivian. “How’s the arm?”
“Good as new.” I rotate my wrist.
“I hear you were victim to the weather, Sunshine,” Benji says with a sunshiny smile.
“It came out of nowhere.”
“It has a way of doing that. Glad you decided to come. I wasn’t sure my brother had to balls to show up with a living, breathing woman for dinner.”
“Jesus, Benj,” Archer growls, clearly not wanting to draw attention to the fact he’d struggled with the choice.
“Don’t feel pressured,” Nate says easily, his big body resting in a casual stance. “Lainey is fantastic, and William is polite. Archer worries like a mother hen, in case you didn’t notice the day you busted your wrist.”
“He sneaked into my townhouse to sleep on the couch,” I tell Archer’s brothers, happily ratting him out.
Archer’s mouth is a flat line, his eyes narrowing in a warning I ignore. Benji comes to his rescue.
“I’d have done the same with Cris. I know she can take care of herself, but we like to be needed, you know?”
“Yeah,” I say with a laugh, liking Archer’s brothers more with each passing moment. Men who are there for the women in their lives remind me of how much my father did for my mom, and not only at the end when she was sick. He’d always doted. What a wrong turn I took moving in with ambivalent Brandon.
“Let’s get you a drink.” Archer guides me away from his brothers and deeper into the house. He’s a wall of stone at my side when we pass an enormous, gleaming white-and-gray kitchen. The floors are marble, a winding banister staircase leads to the upper floor, and tall, arched doorways mark each room.
We step into a sitting room with plenty of cushy sofas and chairs and what appears to be a fully stocked bar off to one side. Vivian and Cris smile and stand from the sofa when they see me, excitement evident in their postures.
They’re both wearing jeans as well. Phew. Cris’s are black with a stylish tear in one knee. She paired them with flat black shoes and a lightweight pink sweater. Vivian manages to look elegant in dark-wash denim like mine, her silky-looking shirt emerald green, knotting at one side to showcase her slim waist. She’s chosen sky-high heels, which I’ve noticed is her usual.
“Yay! You brought her.” Vivian sweeps over to greet me and kisses me on the cheek. She rubs Archer’s upper arm in an approving way. “She’s probably been bored out of her mind trapped in the tower you’ve been keeping her in.”
I laugh. It’s not accurate but not hard to imagine him keeping me locked up for my own safety.
Cris gives me a quick greeting, hers a half-hug instead of a kiss to the cheek. “I want to hear about Archer’s project,” she tells me, her gray eyes going wide with excitement. “He mentioned a spa but left out the fun details. I’m an excellent secret keeper too, so maybe we could stop by the facility and I could have a teensy peek?”
“Easy, Firecracker.” Benji enters the room, sliding an arm around her and kissing her temple. She’s petite, my sister’s height if not a bit shorter, coming up to Benji’s chest. They make an adorable couple. “Talia might want a night off.”
“I love to talk business. I rarely take time off,” I say, hearing Archer’s muttered, “That’s the truth,” behind me. Nate, who walked in with Benji, flicks his fiancée a look like he’s surprised Archer knows that about me.
“She’s officially an LLC now.” Archer’s hand presses my back. His arm stiffens when he adds, “Soon she’ll be doing other projects and raking in her own billions.”
“I don’t know about that,” I add with a nervous laugh. “Billions seems like a lot of responsibility. I’d rather start with thousands and see how I do.”
“Handling it is the same,” Benji says with a shrug. “Just more zeroes.”
