Wicked Billionaire - Sawyer Bennett Page 0,52
He didn’t tell his parents I was coming?
Declan makes a sound of displeasure low in his throat. His words are short and clipped. “I sent my mother a text this morning advising her of my guest.”
“Perhaps she didn’t see it,” the butler suggests. I suppose it’s his duty to his employer.
“She saw it,” Declan growls, and the butler knows when to accept defeat. He graciously inclines his head.
He goes on to say, “Your parents and sister are in the library having a pre-dinner drink. Can I bring you and your guest something?”
“I’ll take a Scotch,” Declan replies, eyeing me. I have no clue if there’s an etiquette to what I should or shouldn’t drink, so I lamely ask for white wine.
Declan grabs my elbow again, then leads me through an expensive foyer with a massive floating curved staircase. The tiled floor has an intricate inlaid pattern of mosaic tiles. I try to study it, but he whisks me past to a set of French double doors on the left.
A brief glimpse inside shows an enormous, beautiful library. It’s not done in heavy woods and paneling usually associated with a wealthy home library, but rather in all white. It has an expansive glass-domed ceiling that’s darkened by the night sky but must shine gloriously during the day. The library rises two stories with shelves from the floor to the base of the ceiling. Along each wall, there’s a rolling ladder, also in white.
The furniture is also in white, with various couches, chairs, and chaises set in private clusters. Along one wall is a carved desk, also in white, but with gilded gold touches. As I take in more detail, pops of color in the rugs and artwork on the floor stand out, giving it warmth and a homey charm.
But then my attention is drawn to his family members, who are clustered in front of a fireplace with a cheery fire.
Their conversation stops dead when we walk in, and one might think they had been talking about Declan from the way their faces smooth out almost blankly.
My next lesson in the Blackwood family dynamic comes when I realize the lack of joy exhibited by this family when seeing each other for the first time in a long time. When we flew here, Declan told me he doesn’t visit much except during the board meetings.
His mother, I’m assuming out of a sense of politeness, breaks away from the group as Declan steers me toward them. She offers up her cheek to her son, murmuring as he bends to kiss it, “Declan… it’s so good to see you.”
Her voice is cultured, with a slight European accent, and she’s stunningly beautiful. Her blonde hair is in a sleek chignon at the base of her neck, and her facial features are nearly perfect with a Nordic slant. Her eyes are a denim blue, and she turns them my way curiously.
Declan introduces me. “Mother… may I present my assistant, Bailey Robbins.”
Then to me, Declan says, “Miss Robbins… my mother, Helena Blackwood.”
“Charmed,” she says, offering me a finely boned hand I’m almost afraid to shake.
“It’s an honor to meet you,” I say, giving a tiny bob of my head. “Thank you for having me.”
At that, Declan’s mother shoots him a frosty, but quick glance before saying to me. “It’s our pleasure. Now, if you’ll excuse me… I need to pop into the kitchen. I think everything should be ready to serve now that all the guests are here.”
Interesting. She refers to her son as a guest instead of as family.
As Helena leaves, Declan manages to introduce me to the others. His father, Alexander, whom I had met briefly on the first day, but it’s clear he doesn’t remember and seems confused to find me with his son.
His sister, Marissa Blackwood Gibbons, is an exact replica of her mother, and she’s as chilly toward Declan as everyone else. There’s an air kiss to her cheek as well, and Declan inquires as to where her husband is.
She gives a dismissive wave. “He’s on call tonight.”
Declan murmurs low in his throat as if he understands, but no one bothers to explain to me precisely what the husband does. I would guess doctor, but, at this point, I’m so confounded by this family I have no clue.
An awkward silence ensues but is thankfully cut short by Helena announcing, “Dinner is ready. If everyone will proceed into the formal dining room.”
The formal dining room? Which implies there’s an informal dining room. This doesn’t