Wanted (Amanda Lance) - By Amanda Lance Page 0,98

seem to be tamed.

Every so often we would see the old-world attempt at an advertisement for a local vineyard at an intersection, followed by signs that were decorated with balloons pointing the way to someone’s wedding or party. I tried to take in as many details of the land as possible. I rolled down the window and took in the perfumed orchards, the incomprehensible freshness of the air; even the sky seemed different from home.

At first I didn’t see the house when we began rolling down the dirt road. It looked like something Gatsby would have purchased if he had lived on this coast. It was the sort of mammoth I envisioned when I first read Wuthering Heights, only instead of a stone template or gothic features, this place was a combination of some old world villa and a vision of modernization.

It sat on acres of land, much further than my eyes could calculate by themselves. As we traveled along the road I could see orchards maintained by figures in the distance. The trees themselves seemed to surround everything.

The house itself mainly consisted of large windows encased by semi-circle divides, which created a balcony structure along the entire upper level. Where there were no windows, there was a rich cream color that brightened the folds of the exterior walls. The structure was sorted into three separate sections—perfectly centered among themselves. I understood how it was easy for everyone to just stay together.

Once we reached the garage of the house, it only appeared larger. I was intimidated, not only by the massiveness of the house and its grandness, but also by the surge of welcomers that rushed the SUV before it was even in park.

“It usually ain’t this bad.” Charlie tried to reach over me to open the door but forgot himself, clasping his torso and seething at the burst of pain.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, but I could see how quickly the color left his face. “Are you?” His thumb brushed against my bruised cheekbone.

Before anything else could happen, a portly looking gentleman opened our door and stuck his head into the vehicle.

“Which one of you is hurt?” I recognized his dialect from either Jersey or New York—I would have to remember to ask later.

Polo started jumping and pointing at Charlie. “This one is! This one is!”

I got out of the way as quickly as I could. It wasn’t difficult to see that I was a fish out of water here, but I refused to make a nuisance of myself.

Among the greeters was a young woman with long dark hair and the healthy complexion of someone who might have spent just the right amount of time in the garden on a daily basis. She eyed me instantly with olive eyes that seemed to sparkle in the chaos.

“Oh, hi there!” She came at me with open arms that embraced, and a heavy but not entirely unpleasant perfume. “You must be Addie.” She forced my hand in hers and vicariously shook for the both of us. “I’m Elise—I’ve heard so much about you. You poor thing, I bet you’re just aching to get yourself cleaned up…”

I smiled and nodded, and although I didn’t want to be rude, my only real focus was on Charlie and I didn’t bother hiding it. From over her shoulder, I could see Yuri and Polo struggling to carry his weight while Charlie stubbornly struggled against them; calling them names and swearing.

I had become completely unaware she was still talking. “Excuse me. Um, just one second.”

I stepped away and used my hands to call out to the awkward bunch, “Charlie!”

He stopped his squirming and glanced back at me.

“Let them help you.”

His eyes darted from across the veranda. Before he could challenge them again, Yuri tripped him across the knee, forcing him to fall forward. I called out, but they managed to catch him before he fell flat on his face and carried him the rest of the way into the house.

“Wow.” Elise came up from behind me. “I’ve never seen him listen to anyone.”

The interior of the house was all high ceilings and pallid white walls. Crisp, blue marble countertops created an island in the circular kitchen, which led directly to a large open living area, where an array of large abstract paintings lined the walls.

“You—have a lovely home.” I crossed my arms over myself, feeling immediately out of place in such glamorous surroundings.

“Oh, thank you.” She put her arm around my shoulder in what I guessed was an

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