Julia walked in to the rather large room, letting her purse dangle from her fingertips. The room was similar to the one Madeline was in. A large bed with the beautiful woodwork was placed against the wall and across from doors that led out to the porch. Two more sets of doors she assumed led to a bathroom and a closet. There was a small kitchen area complete with a bistro table, a refrigerator, and a small microwave.
“I hope this meets your expectations.”
“Oh, this is more than I expected. Really.” Julia placed the covered plate on the table and her purse on the bed and faced Richard. “Actually, I didn’t have many expectations. I was told that I would be provided with my own living quarters and that was it. This is more than enough.”
Richard inclined his head. “On the table you will find a card with phone numbers and information about entering and exiting the home. Tomorrow I will show you which car you can use.”
She really kind of hoped it wasn’t a Mercedes, because she seriously didn’t need to be behind the wheel of one of those cars.
“You will find our number on the card—Livie and me,” he clarified. “Once dinner is served and cleaned up, no staff is here. Not during the night. If you need anything, Ms. Hughes. Anything. No matter the time of night. Please do not hesitate to call.”
“Oh.” She smiled faintly. That was a nice, but slightly weird offer. “Thank you.”
He nodded once more, reminded her of the time dinner was served, and then exited the room, closing the door behind him.
“Okay,” she said out loud and then spun around. “I’m really doing this.”
Puckering her lips, she looked around the room, spying a stack of magazines by the bed. It was like someone knew that she’d need them. Her job would have long periods of downtime.
The first thing she did was dig her phone out from her purse along with a charger. Finding a plug near the bed, she set to charging her phone. There was a missed call from her mom. She’d text her later.
She toed off her flats and walked over to the doors. The first set was the closet, and yup, her clothes were hung up and others were placed in a wide dresser.
She did find her stash of nursing scrubs neatly folded in the bottom two drawers. There was no real dress code, but when you were cleaning patients and helping them with their business, you didn’t want to be wearing street clothes.
The second set of doors led to the kind of bathroom she was not expecting in a million years. An oversized claw-foot tub. Separate shower stall with rain shower and body jets.
Body jets.
Oh yeah, she was going to live in this bathroom.
And she couldn’t wait to make that shower her best friend after she finished up with Madeline this evening.
Knowing she had a few minutes to spare before heading back to Madeline’s room, she decided to indulge her curiosity and unlocked the doors that led outside. The tacky warmth was so unexpected it nearly bowled her over. It had been several hours since she was last outside, but damn. She could already feel her shirt starting to stick to skin as the rich, earthy scent that reminded her of digging in gardens surrounded her.
Walking past a set of wicker chairs and a table, she went to the vine-covered wrought-iron railing and stared out over the grounds.
Julia’s mouth dropped open as she placed her hands on the railing.
This was the first time she was seeing what lay beyond the back of the house. A large garden crowded the right side of the home, fresh red buds blooming. She realized she’d found the source of the vines. Julia could see where they started, somewhere deep in the garden.
The patio led into a pathway that headed straight for an in-ground pool that literally was the size she imagined Olympic divers practiced in.
And there was more.
Off the side of the pool was a sand volleyball court. Behind that was a basketball court. There were several smaller buildings dotting the landscape. Off in the distance, she could see what appeared to be a tall cement wall and . . . and a runway?
“Is that a plane?” she said out loud.
Holy shit, that was a plane.
Julia had no idea how long she stood there and stared out over the grounds—at the plane. The home was huge, big enough to house a family of thirty probably, and the outside looked like an adult playground.
“Rich people,” she whispered, shaking her head.
All of this made her feel completely comfortable taking a million dollars from Lucian. Come to think of it, she really wanted to—
Jerking her hands back from the railing, she sucked in a shrill breath and stared down at the railing. What the . . . ? The vine had felt like it had—like it had wiggled under her hands. That was ridiculous, but . . .
Had to be the wind. Julia lifted her head, scanning the porch. Except there was no wind. Her gaze darted to the vines as she drew her hands back to her chest. A shiver tiptoed down her spine. Pivoting around, she hurried back inside, locking the doors behind her.
Over the rim of his glass, Lucian eyed the entryway to the dining room. Impatient, the fingers of his other hand tapped along the edge of the table. Roasted hen and savory potatoes had just been laid out seconds ago among other food he was barely interested in.
He was waiting.
He had been waiting.
The rest of his afternoon and into the early evening had been sucked up by plans. Unsurprisingly, the senator hung around and was still there, at the dinner table, even after their little showdown in Dev’s office.
If the motto “the family that fought each other stayed together” was an actual thing, the de Vincents could’ve trademarked it.
Dev’s incessant prattling about how they would handle breaking the news about Lawrence’s passing mingled with Stefan’s own demands that made the funeral sound like it would be a damn wedding.
It needed to be worthy of Lawrence’s stature. Eye. Fucking. Roll. In other words, it would be a damn circus that he’d have to liquor himself up just to get through.
Eventually they’d gotten the A-team of lawyers on the phone to hammer out the press release. Because hell must’ve frozen over, Dev listened to the council of advice even though their uncle was dead set against the game plan.
But alas, the uncle really didn’t have any say in it.
The family would be honest—well, as honest as any of them could be. They would announce that Lawrence de Vincent took his own life. A sizable donation would be made in his name to one of the national suicide prevention organizations. The press release went out about a half an hour ago, so Lucian had turned his phone off.
By the time he’d been able to escape, he sort of wished it were his funeral they were planning. He knew Dev had kept him occupied on purpose. Not like he could freely stalk his nurse from Dev’s office.
Too bad the cameras didn’t work. He’d plop his ass in front of the video feed all the time. Sounded creepy as fuck, but he didn’t care.
“Why are there five places set?”
His gaze shifted to Stefan. “Why are you still here?”
“Because I live to make your life miserable,” he replied.
“Family.” Lucian sighed. “It’s wonderful.”
Stefan looked over at him and have him a half smile; the same exact smile he’d seen his father give him a thousand times.
“What?” his uncle demanded as he continued to stare at him.
Before Lucian could respond, Dev appeared and took his seat. They weren’t in the large banquet hall. This was the smaller dining room, fitted with an oval table that didn’t make you feel like you were at the Last Supper about to get stabbed in the back. At least at this table, you could see someone coming at you with the knife.
“We are expecting a . . . a guest tonight,” Dev replied, plucking up his linen napkin and dropping it in his lap.
“A guest?” Stefan sat back, lifting his glass in the air. Without a word, it was filled by one of the staff who assisted Livie in the kitchen. “Is it Sabrina?” Interest sparked in his light green eyes.
The kind of interest Lucian’s lip curled up at.
“No.” Lucian lowered his glass and waited for his uncle’s sole attention before he continued. “We hired a nurse to work with Madeline.”
“You’re inviting the nurse to dinner?”