Lethal Wedding (Wedlocked Trilogy Book 2) - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,39
welcomes me in and a man who shows me to the elevator and then pushes the button. We ride up to Franklin's penthouse together.
The whole trip up, I debate as to whether or not I should tip him and realize that I don't have any cash. To say that I feel like a fish out of water would be a grave understatement. I try to make up for it with some polite conversation.
A quiet beep indicates that we have arrived on the top floor. The elevator doors open right into his apartment.
“Hey,” Franklin says, walking over to me in his three-thousand dollar, perfectly tailored suit. “I'm glad you made it."
I give him a nod and we shake hands.
“How are you doing?” he asks. “How is your mom?”
Aurora and Chelsea walk out of the dining room to greet me, holding sparkling glasses of champagne and laughing.
Aurora looks breathtaking in an elegant short black dress and small heels and Chelsea is beautiful in a bright red gown with lips to match.
They’re supposed to match but they don’t.
“I'm sorry, I am way underdressed,” I say, glancing down at my TJ Maxx sport coat that’s a different shade of black from my slacks.
“You look great,” Franklin says quickly. “Come on in and let me get you something to drink.”
Aurora looks me up and down and gives me a small smile.
"Don't worry about it,” she whispers under her breath.
I’m not really worried, I just feel out of place.
“Is anyone else coming?” I ask when Franklin takes me to a backroom that's entirely devoted to wine and pours me a glass.
“There was supposed to be another couple but they cancelled.”
The wine cellar is bigger than my bedroom at home and hosts thousands of bottles. The temperature is cooler than in the rest of the apartment and the walls make it feel like it’s a cellar deep underground, somewhere in the south of France.
* * *
Franklin points to the bottles on the far right, in a special case and tells me that those once belonged to Thomas Jefferson.
“Planning on drinking that?” I ask.
“No, of course not,” he says. "To be honest, they are probably vinegar by now. It has been that long. But you know what they say about wine connoisseurs, we are the biggest snobs. So, just the fact that it once belonged to him is enough for me to keep it up there, propped up on display.”
Back in the opulent living room, Aurora comes out with the hors d'oeuvres.
“These look really good,” Franklin says, and gives Aurora a peck on the cheek.
“Did you make these?” I ask her.
She gives me a slight nod.
“I'm shocked,” I say. “I didn't realize you knew how to cook.”
“Well, I don’t," she says shyly. “But Franklin insisted on it.”
“What are you doing to her?” Chelsea asks, laughing.
“Well, she's going to be my wife and I'd like to have a wife who knows how to cook.”
“Then you should have married someone who already does,” Chelsea says. “Are you seriously making her cook this?”
He laughs and so does Aurora, but by the expression on her face I'm not so sure that this is a funny matter.
What is happening here? I wonder.
Aurora has never cooked anything in her life, beyond a few simple dishes. Besides, everyone here except for me has had personal chefs their whole adult lives, so why the change now?
“You see, I'm just trying to teach Aurora a few things. She has been pampered a little bit too much by her parents and now that she's going to be my wife, I'd like for her to know where she stands.”
Shivers run down my spine.
I have heard rumors about Franklin, but this is the first time that I have ever seen this side of him.
I glance over at Aurora and try to figure out how she feels about this. But she just cowers away from me.
Chelsea and I exchange a look and then Franklin starts to laugh.
He pretends that he has been joking all along, and after giving Aurora a slight pat on the butt, he sends her back into the kitchen.
After we finish the plate of roasted Brussels sprouts, Aurora brings out dinner and sets it out herself. All of the servants have been sent home and it's up to her to act as a hostess. Chelsea and I both try to help, but Franklin stops us.
“Listen, you two are guests here, she’s the hostess. I want to see her set the table and show all of us a good