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"Yes, it is," I said, trying to hide my disappointment that she seemed so impressed with the guest house.
"Where's the driveway? I mean, to the guest house?" she asked, finally tearing her gaze away from the flower garden to look at me. "Where will I park my car?"
"We don't have to worry about that yet, do we?" When she scowled, I sensed I had hit a nerve.
"Guy, what do you mean? Of course, I will have my car back soon. I don’t have a driver like you do.” Ariel told me.
"Oh, okay. Can I help you go get it? I don't mind driving you to Phoenix to pick it up. I mean, if you want me to." I added quickly.
"No, I can't ask you to do that," Ariel said, looking away.
"Why not?" I asked, wondering what was going on with her.
"Guy, I told you before that I don't want to burden you. You're so busy. I can call an auto transport company, you know…" she said softly.
"Ariel, you are not a burden. I hope you know that by now." I told her, reaching out to touch her arm. "I want to help you. I love you."
"I know, and I appreciate it. I know you love me… and I love you too," she said, giving me a small smile. "But… I guess I'm just not used to all this." Ariel gestured out the window at everything. Then she covered her face with her hands; the first sign that she was getting overwhelmed.
"No worries." I took her in my arms and held her tight. "I'll call a transport company tomorrow and figure out when they can pick up your car," I told her as I rubbed her back.
Ariel nodded and took a deep breath. "Okay. Thank you.”
When my driver glanced up at me in the rearview mirror with a raised brow, I asked, "Why don't you pull into the main house's garage but leave Ariel's bags in the trunk. We can deal with them later."
"Yes, Mr. Jackson." My driver, Roscoe, said as he pressed a button on the center console. A moment later, we were pulling into the main house's garage. I got out and hurried around to open Ariel's door.
"Welcome home to my Casa Palacious." I told her with a grin as I swept my arm out in an exaggerated gesture.
Ariel giggled as she stepped out of the car. "Casa Palacious? That's for sure."
The first sign that something was up was the faint smell of food. Then, when I glanced at Roscoe, his half-smile and wink let me know he was aware of it. I held Ariel's hand and walked into the kitchen. Suddenly, the lights turned on, and we were surrounded by friends yelling, "Happy New Year and welcome home!"
Ariel gasped and spun around to face me. "What?"
I grinned, "Our very own New Year's Party."
In an instant, Sicily and Amber had flocked to Ariel, shaking her hand and offering her a flute of champagne. Seeing the confused expression on Ariel's face, I initially worried she was feeling overwhelmed. However, when Sicily grabbed hold of her hand and urged her to tell them about her new book, she giggled and followed them both onto the patio.
Turning to the guys, I pointed to Chase and asked, "Whose idea was this?" They all raised their hands and gestured toward Roscoe, who was helping himself to the shrimp cocktail. "Honestly, I wasn't expecting…” I couldn't finish my sentence without getting mushy as I hugged all five of my co-partners and high-fived Roscoe.
"We've celebrated New Year's Day together since our college days. So you didn't think we would miss this year, did you? Especially when we found out you would be arriving today?" Mitch asked, clapping me on the back.
"The game is starting in fifteen minutes, so I'm going to grab some BBQ and baked beans. I'm calling dibs on the center front seat in the console," Chase called out as he headed toward the home theater.
I followed their lead, but not before checking on Ariel. I quickly turned back when I saw her and the other two ladies happily chatting in the flower garden. I was overjoyed to be back with my friends, the people I had considered family for most of my life. Ariel was fitting in with them and their wives, and I was incredibly grateful for their thoughtfulness.
"Holy shit, the Buccaneers actually scored!" Brad yelled, clapping and chugging his beer.
"No way," I said as I shoveled a heaping forkful of baked beans into my mouth.
"What the hell happened to their defense?" Chase asked.
"Yeah, well, they're going to need it if they want to beat the Saints," Mitch pretended he was the sports announcer.
We all settled in and watched the game, cheering and groaning at every play. At halftime, we decided to take a break and go outside to check on the ladies. As soon as we got close to the kitchen, we heard giggling and cursing intermixed. "What's going on in here?" I asked, shoving open the kitchen door.
Ariel was standing with an electric mixer in her hand—whipped cream splattered everywhere — on their faces, in their hair, and especially all over Ariel's glasses. Sicily groaned, "You would have to show up now, wouldn't you!"
