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The maid closes the door and asks us to wait in the hall.
“Your parents will be with you shortly.”
Adrian doesn’t seem impressed by that.
“This is how it is in Casa Ellison,” I tell him.
“I knew your parents were loaded,” Carter says. “But holy shit, this is like billionaire status.”
“Shut up, Carter,” Silas mutters, shaking his head.
“He’s right,” I tell them, shrugging. “That’s a real Rembrandt on the wall.”
“It must be worth millions.”
I hear my mother’s heels on the marble floor before she appears.
She’s dressed for a day at the office, and she seems confused by my appearance.
“Rachel, dear, what happened?”
“Hi Mom, you look nice, too.”
“Well, I do try,” she says. “Who are your friends?”
“Is Dad home?”
“Yes, of course. He’s in the lounge.”
“Then can I speak to you both in the lounge?”
“Would your friends like to wait out here?”
“No, they would not.”
And they’re not my friends. They’re my mates.
Nope. Need to tell them both at once. I’m not going through this shit twice.
I nod to my mates to follow us.
We step into the lounge and my father looks up from his newspaper.
“Oh, Rachel, you’re home. It’s nice to see you.”
I clear my throat. “I came back here because there’s something I should tell you, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“Oh, dear Goddess. You’re not pregnant, are you?” Mom asks, giving my mates a vaguely disgusted once over.
“Goddess, no. I’m not pregnant. Why is that the first thing you ask?”
“Then, what?” she asks.
My father folds his paper.
“You remember when Paul Winters took me to my new school?”
“Yes, of course.”
