have been a slight surprise for him too but it’s not as though I let off fireworks inside the room. I’ll save that great idea for the next one.
By five in the evening, the staff is gone and the ballroom is mostly put back together. I stick around to do the finishing touches, the ones Maryne used to do herself. She liked the ballroom set up a certain way when it wasn’t in use, just in case Charles wanted to show it off to his guests—because he always wanted to show it off.
Once it’s absolutely perfect, I walk out of the ballroom and peer back through the open doors. Last night was crazy amazing. The last two parties I’ve attended here have been incredible but both ended in a shitty way. Last night though … it was perfect and I can’t wait to do it again. Well, assuming Nic can keep his stubborn ass away.
Stepping back, I close the door and officially bring an end to the most incredible night of my life. I turn around and as I start pushing the cleaning cart back toward the staff quarters, noise from the foyer catches my attention.
I let out a frustrated sigh. I’m so not in the mood for guests.
With Mom busy in the kitchen and Harrison taking the afternoon off, I’m left to go and welcome these people in. I start making my way toward the foyer and with every step I take, I become more and more on edge. There was no buzzer for the gate and no knock at the door. Whoever these people are, they just welcomed themselves into Colton’s home as though they had every right.
That realization has me picking up my pace. The last time people just ran in here, the house got shot up and Maryne ended up dead. I can’t risk that again. Whoever these people are, they need to take a back seat and realize that they can’t just live life however the fuck they want, and if I was smart, I’d be running the opposite direction.
What kind of idiot rushes into situations like this? I should be scrambling away and letting Colton know that someone just barged their way through his doors again, yet something keeps me moving. If these people were dangerous, I feel like they would be making more noise. Dangerous people seem to be loud, you know, with the whole intimidation thing they’ve got going. These people are just talking among themselves in a snappy, bitchy kind of way.
I break out into the foyer at a pace too fast for my feet to handle and I come to a screeching stop by slamming my hip into the hallway table. “Ah, fuck,” I grunt, making the three women in the foyer whip around.
My gut instantly sinks.
Laurelle Carrington and her two bitchy twin daughters, Cora and Casey with bags upon bags of luggage.
Just fucking great.
“I… uhh.” Shit. What the hell am I supposed to say? ‘Welcome home, bitches?’ No. I don't see that going down well.
“Ugh,” twin one says, looking me up and down as her face scrunches in distaste. “You’re still here.”
“Who’s still here?” Laurelle asks, stepping forward and looking me over in a similar way that her daughter had, yet unlike her daughter, something has me stepping back. This woman is batshit crazy. It was only two weeks ago that she stormed into her ex-husband’s funeral and lit his ass on fire while wearing six-inch stiletto heels. This is the real MVP of revenge, not someone who should be messed with.
The other twin lets out a sickening laugh. “This is the girl we were telling you about. The one who let all those gangsters into father’s wake and assaulted us. She works here.”
Laurelle’s eyes snap to mine. “You work here?”
I swallow back, unsure why the hell I feel so terrified of her.
This shit hasn’t happened before. I make a fucking point not to be scared off by over-privileged bitches like this. “Where the hell is your uniform?”
“I, uhhh … I don’t wear one.”
“Unacceptable,” she spits. “From now on, you show respect to your hosts by wearing your appointed uniform. Is that clear?”
“Umm … Colton hasn’t requested that I wear a uniform and Charles never asked me to.”
Laurelle’s eyes flame with rage. “Do I look like Charles? I am the lady of this house and I have requested that you wear a uniform. If you cannot respect my rules, then you will be asked to leave. Is that clear?”
The