Chantelle whistled. “This place is awesome,” she said.
There were pots containing styled topiary, creeping ivy and roses up the walls, a fountain, and Roman’s cream-colored Rolls Royce parked to one side.
The family got out of the pickup truck and went to the large, carved front door. Chantelle rang the bell and a few seconds later it was opened by a humongous security man wearing a dark suit and a very stern expression.
“I’m Emily Morey,” Emily explained. “This is my husband, Daniel, and our daughter, Chantelle.”
The man didn’t say a word but he nodded as though he’d been briefed on their arrival and stepped aside. They went through the door and into the foyer, which had vast ceilings and pristine tiled floors. The decor inside was far more modern than the outside would have suggested.
They were greeted next by a maid, a young East Asian woman dressed casually in a summer dress. She took their coats and slung them over her arm.
“Can I show you through to the drawing room? Mr. Westbrook won’t be a moment.”
They followed her into a large room with wooden floors, a bright red leather couch, a large patterned rug, a glass coffee table and matching glass liquor cabinet, and a very large abstract painting taking up one wall. Emily caught Daniel’s eye and they exchanged a glance.
“Chantelle, don’t touch anything,” Emily said.
Chantelle sat on the couch, her feet not reaching the floor, hands clasped in her lap, looking very intimidated by the surrounding room.
“This is insane,” Emily whispered to Daniel.
They sat also, the brand new couch squeaky under their weight.
“It looked like an old money mansion from the outside,” Daniel said, looking around. “But he must have had the place gutted and completely redone on the inside.”
Just then, they saw Roman descending the staircase, wearing his trademark fedora.
“You made it!” he grinned, bouncing exuberantly into the room.
They stood and he skidded to a halt, arms wide for hugs. Emily felt stilted embracing Roman Westbrook. She still didn’t know him very well, even though he’d gone all out by pulling some strings so they could have the fanciest hotel room on the whole of Martha’s Vineyard.
“How was the honeymoon?” he asked Emily as he let her go.
“It was wonderful,” Emily said.
Roman shook Daniel’s hand. “And your jazz band?” he asked. “They’re still doing the wedding circuit?”