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I don’t elaborate, and Missie doesn’t push it. Instead, she watches as I lower the helicopter onto the H-pad and turn off the engine.
Chapter Twenty
Missie
Oh my God. He said it was palatial, but I just thought he meant a bigger version of Aunt Pippa’s place.
The mansion—because that’s the only word for it—looks as if it’s on at least three stories and possibly more. I can see the main house with a terrace at the top, another huge terrace above an enormous pool beneath it, and further down what I think must be the separate apartments Alex mentioned. The whole place is surrounded by a botanical garden with native plants and waterfalls, and a cable car that links all the terraces and decks.
The heli-pad is right at the top of the hill, and as we get out, we have a spectacular view of the whole property, the city, and across Lyall Bay to what I think is Petone on the other side.
“Holy shit.” I stand there, stunned, mouth agape.
Alex chuckles as he goes around to collect our bags. “Pretty impressive, eh?”
“I didn’t realize we had a royal family in New Zealand.”
“It’s one of the biggest properties in the city. If not the whole of the country.”
“Damon’s parents must be really well off!”
“His dad invented a computer graphics card that was better than anything else around at the time. It made him an absolute fortune.”
I knew that Alex was wealthy, mainly through his actor mother, as well as through the patents for the medical equipment he’s invented. And I knew Damon and his brothers were rich. But it’s only now that I realize just what people I’m mixing with.
“Does everyone you know have money?” I ask, taking my case from him.
“Mostly.”
“Oh God, I’m so nervous.”
“Aw. Don’t be. You’ll know some of the people there, anyway. James, Henry, Gaby, Tyson, Aroha, and Juliette, probably…”
“Probably?”
He hesitates. “I don’t think things are good between Juliette and Cam.”
“What happened with her and Henry on the twenty-first?”
“I don’t know. Neither of them will talk about it.” He shoulders his bag and slings his suit carrier over the same shoulder. Then he takes my hand with his spare.
“What about the guys from Auckland?” I ask as we walk down the path. “What do they do?”
“Mack invented a supercomputer. He’s like Einstein but with better hair. Huxley owns a business club—he’s a financial whizz. Titus—Damon’s cousin—is into Artificial Intelligence, and he’s made major breakthroughs in IVF with it.”
“Jesus.”
“Missie, don’t worry, all their partners are really nice. You’re going to fit in great. Come on. Let’s go and meet everyone.”
We start walking down the steps toward the house. My mouth has gone dry. “I should have worn something smarter. I thought I was going to be able to change first.”
“Look at me,” he says, “I’m hardly wearing a suit.”
But his chinos and shirt look expensive, he’s styled his hair this morning, and he practically oozes wealth and sophistication. I’m a primary-school teacher with cut-down jeans that still bear the glitter from making Christmas decorations with the kids on the last day of term. He’s told me that a couple of the wives here have babies—I have an eleven-year-old son. Even though I’m only twenty-eight, I’m sure I must be ten years older than what I’m convinced most of these girls are going to be. I can’t believe that all of these rich men are like Alex, who for some crazy reason is interested in me—surely most of them will have married young models? What on earth will we have in common?
He leads me down a neat pathway to a driveway and a car park—Jesus, this house has its own car park. It’s full of cars. Half a dozen young men and women dressed in white shirts, black trousers, and silver waistcoats are either parking the cars or carrying luggage down to the house.
“Are they staff?” I ask.
