I tried to squash the green-eyed monster that reared its head when he took her hands and leaned in to kiss her cheek. But up close I could see the fine lines around her eyes and lips and realized she was pushing forty at the very least, nearly a decade older than Dirk.
He stepped back to put an arm around me. "Shelby, this is Nina. She'll be your chaperone and tutor until we're married." Ah, so this is the nanny. I didn't know they came in three-piece, pastel skirt suits, but okay.
"Oh, I'd hoped to stay on for the little ones as well." If she said anything else, it was lost to me choking on my own spit.
"You have kids?" I sputtered out, indignant at the thought that he'd left out that tidbit.
"Darling, of course not, she meant—"
"I meant your children, but I can see we have a lot of work to do. Can't have that uncouth attitude embarrassing the family." Dirk's dark stare quailed her on the spot, but I thought it was more for being interrupted than on my behalf. "Right, not the time for all of that. My apologies, sir, I got over excited."
"Very well, Nina." But his glower barely lightened, and I wondered if he'd have words with the woman later. From her strained smile, I thought I was on the right track. "Darling, let's get you situated since we can tour the house another time. Better yet, Nina can show you around, as I'm sure Father will want to catch up on business. It will give you two time to acquaint yourselves with each other."
* * *
Nina and Milo disappeared to parts unknown without any more mention of children, which I would be pursuing later, in private, while Dirk led me to the second floor. He explained there was a service elevator behind the grand staircase, but it was rarely used except for furnishings. Upon entering our suite, I found that the sumptuous sitting room, done in tones of dull gold and black, sat between our bedrooms. Plural.
"We have separate rooms? Why?" A note of hurt colored my questions. I didn't like the set-up at all.
"It's proper, darling. We each have our own space. I'm sure there will be times you'd rather have your privacy." Reading between the lines, I figured it was his way of saying he'd want privacy. "Besides, I won't be home all of the time. It makes it easier if I have to leave early or come in late, less chance of disturbing you."
Less chance of you catching something disturbing is more like it. Bet Milo is more than his bodyguard if you catch my drift. Hmm...maybe body guard is a good name for it too.
Don't be preposterous!
"I thought we'd share a room. Like normal couples…" I gave up at the arched brows and disappointment shining from his blue orbs. "I'm sure I'll be fine. It's not like I'm used to sharing a room anyhow," I finished lamely.
"We'll be together so often, you'll be thanking your lucky stars that you have your own space. And why don't you go see it for yourself? Just knock on my door when you're done. I'm going to freshen up, myself."
Did he just tell me I have to knock on his bedroom door? What the hell?
Sure did, sweetcheeks!
The mirth came through loud and clear, though I wasn't amused. But I did need to figure out what to wear from the few outfits I'd brought. Dread filled me at the prospect of meeting Winston Sr. in my jeans.
My new bedroom could only be described as sugar plum ritz. The entire thing was shades of purple mixed here and there with silver. It was gorgeous but antiquated, and I felt ill at ease with the frilly bedding and spindle-legged furniture. Wondering how long it would be before I could feasibly ask to at least change the bedding and window treatments without coming off as rude, I opened the door closest to the bed. Oh thank the Lord.
It was a bathroom, and it was normal. I'd been afraid to find potpourri in doily covered jars tied with coordinating ribbons. Instead, I got a marble vanity, deep tub with jets, and a smoked glass shower stall, all in shades of gray and white. I could deal with the room and just hide out in here or the sitting room if I wasn't busy.
I wasn't quite sure what I'd be doing with my time. Dirk would probably frown upon me waitressing, and what would my bodyguard do? Stand around for eight hours or follow me from table to table? I nearly giggled aloud at the thought.
Retracing my steps, I opened the other door to find a dressing room that matched the bathroom, but with carpet and shelves instead of tile. There were already several boxes on those shelves as well as dresses with tags still on them hanging from one of the sections with poles. Sitting in the center toward the back, was a dais that faced a wide, full-length mirror, just like I'd seen on bridal reality shows. I really hoped the clothes and shoe boxes were for me, but I checked the drawers first, finding underthings in one dresser and an entire jewelry case next to it, but that was empty.
I wanted to explore more, but I worried that I would be late to meet Dirk's family. That was not the first impression I wanted to make at all. As I flipped through the few dresses, I decided on a deep green number with three-quarter-length sleeves, a slant-cut skirt whose longest point hit at my knees, and a square neckline that only showed a hint of cleavage. It would pair well with the jewelry I had, as well as my own coloring.
When I found the basics for makeup in the vanity, I was grateful, but the sensation of being kept creeped over me.
Wonder who put all of this here? Nina or loverboy?
Does it really matter? I defended. Dirk hired her, so if she did, she was doing her job. I mentally flipped the voice off. She really needed to take a time-out before my nerves, and her commentary, made me melt down.
Regardless of who did what, I started to hurry, feeling the tension of the time constraint bearing down on me. As soon as I stepped into the sitting room, Dirk turned to me, a short glass of clear liquid in his hand that I was sure wasn't water. I'd never noticed that he had a penchant for drinking before, but in the last twenty-four hours, he'd had drinks on multiple occasions.
I couldn't believe everything that had happened in the span of a day. The surreality was all encompassing as I contemplated how very much life had changed since that old screen door slammed behind me.
"Shelby, darling, I asked if you were ready." Dirk's raised voice cut into my daydreaming, and I focused on him, feeling unable to move like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle under his frown. "I also said you look beautiful, but apparently I'm talking to myself. Make me proud, Shelby. I'd rather not be embarrassed after flouting my father's plans to marry me off to the governor's twit of a daughter so that we could be together." Dirk continued to grumble as he emptied his glass and refilled it again, but my mind was fixed on the fact that he was supposed to marry someone else. I had feared that there may have been some truth to the Cindy Jenkins story, and my stomach cramped at the thought that I was being played in some elaborate game of the rich and bored.
My panic shortened my breath until I was afraid I'd either puke and pass out or vice versa. I quit my job. I left everything behind. What if his father forbids our engagement? I'm homeless.