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Wes made his way down the long hall toward the entryway. He approached the front door in time to see his father shake hands with Noelle and invite her inside. His father was a man used to turning on the charm when necessary. He all but oozed it at that moment.
“Welcome, Noelle. We are so glad you could come and visit. And so kind of you to help Wesley.”
His father closed the front door behind Noelle and offered to take her coat. She smiled at his father then saw Wes standing nearby. “Oh. Hi.” Her eyes were wide as she looked around the entry. “Wow. This is…breathtaking.”
Wes had also become accustomed to people’s first reactions to the Montana property. It was one of their smaller homes in size, but it did not lack grandeur.
“And thank you, Mr. St. Claire, for inviting me to your home. It’s lovely.”
“Please, call me Daniel.”
Wes dug his hands into his pockets and stared at his father. He couldn’t recall the last person his father had let call him by his first name. He reveled in the formality of always being addressed as Mr. St. Claire. Even Glenna called him that and she’d been with them for…well, forever in Wes’s mind.
“Wesley, why don’t you show Noelle to the kitchen?”
“Right. Sure. Sorry.” Lost in thought, he’d forgotten his manners. “It’s good to see you, Noelle. Come down this way. The kitchen is just down the hall.”
*
“I’m guessing Wilsonhad no trouble finding your apartment? The ride over was comfortable?”
Noelle walked beside Wes down a long corridor, one wide enough for them to be side by side.
“Oh. Um. Yes. Thank you. I appreciate the ride.”
During their coffee date, Noelle had shared that she and Holly lived in an apartment near the dance studio and walked everywhere. She had no problem borrowing Franchesca’s car to get to Wes’s house to teach him baking, but he’d insisted on sending a car for her. Not sure what to expect, Noelle was dumbfounded when a black Town Car pulled up to her apartment with a chauffer in a dark suit at the wheel. He’d knocked on her door, introduced himself as Wilson, and escorted her to the car, making sure she didn’t slip on ice along the way.
When they’d pulled into the circular cobblestone drive, complete with a fountain in the center, Noelle had to pick her jaw up off the floor of the back seat. The St. Claire Montana home was straight out of magazine. Built of dark stone, it had cream-colored columns that held a balcony above the front door, marble steps that led to the entry. The main house was rectangular in shape with wings jutting out from either end. At least fifteen windows adorned the front, all trimmed in the same cream color that matched the columns and entry.
Off to the side was a garage with the doors opened, complete with a black Range Rover, dark gray BMW SUV, blue Jeep, and a bright yellow Hummer. Wilson had helped Noelle from the car to the door then pulled the Town Car into the garage, closed the doors, and was gone. By the time Wes’s father answered the door, she found it difficult to form words.
Then she’d entered the house.
If the outside was imposing, the inside took her breath away. Although embarrassed that she had fumbled so badly when Daniel St. Claire answered the door, she simply couldn’t get over her awe of the house. She’d guessed the St. Claires had money, but based on what she saw of their home, it wasn’t an amount she was used to imagining, even from the people she’d rubbed shoulders with in San Francisco.
“Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet over there.”
“Oh. Yes. I’m sorry. I’m just a bit…overwhelmed.” They were still walking the same corridor. Was the kitchen miles away? Based on the size of the house, that was possible.
“Would you like to see the house?”
“Do we have time?”
Wes stopped and laughed.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t appropriate.”
“It was perfect.”
“I’ve spent too much time with my sister. The smart aleck in me is not as filtered as she usually is.”
He placed a hand on her back and continued to guide her down the hall. “Believe me, your honesty is refreshing.”
“It’s a big house.”
“That it is.”
*
