Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 40311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
No one answered for a moment but then the door swung open, and a butler greeted me. Wow. Like a real butler in a jacket and tie. Evan’s family had to be really, really rich. This was beyond insane. The man grew up in a castle, and lived here with servants. So different from my humble beginnings in a duplex that was probably as big as their bathroom.
I stammered my greeting.
“Um, hi. I’m here to see Evan.”
The butler bowed.
“Of course, you must be Miss Lake. Welcome. Please come in. The family is waiting for you in the sitting room.”
Tentatively, I stepped over the threshold. And inside, the house was huge. Marble everywhere. Sculptures of Greek gods and slippery looking floors. Huge paintings on the walls and the smell of a crisp room deodorizer. Maybe that’s the smell of money.
With the size of the house, I expected a huge family, maybe some cousins or kids running around. But the house was eerily still, almost like a museum. And glancing through the open sitting room door, I could see it was just Evan and an older couple, refined and elegant. Must be Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln.
At the wide entrance to the sitting room, the butler paused and actually announced me like we were in a scene from Downtown Abbey.
“Miss Margaret Lake for dinner.”
His voice rang out like a bell in the giant sitting room. And immediately, all three Lincolns turned.
Evan grinned and put his drink down, that massive build formal in a dark suit. Long strides ate up the distance between us as he leaned forward to kiss my cheek.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “You look gorgeous.”
Despite my nerves, I flushed and smiled back at him.
“Thanks, you picked it out,” I whispered, indicating the floral silk dress with a high neckline and full sleeves. Perfect for meeting your fiancé’s parents.
My man steered me around, one arm planted securely around my waist.
“Mom, Dad,” he called casually. “This is Maggie, my new fiancée. The girl I’ve been telling you about.”
I tried not to stare, but couldn’t help it. Because these folks were so different from people from my everyday life.
Mr. Lincoln actually looked like a bulldog, short and squat, with no neck. His turtleneck and dark pants only made the impression worse. Bowzer in man form, for real, with the same scowl on his face.
His mom, though, was a swan, long, lean and lovely, very elegant. She wore a white, slim-fitting dress over her thin body and high heels. This lady did not give a damn that it was after Labor Day.
Standing there with Evan in the giant house with everything shiny and gold-colored, they all looked very rich.
Different from me.
Light years away from my dad who grew up a fisherman, hands rough and chapped, face red from wind off the lake.
So different from my stepmom, who was the wife of a humble fisherman, but fancied herself hoity-toity Chromian upper-crust society. It was awful the way she put on airs, even wearing white gloves just for the hell of it. Plus, my stepsisters were just as bad. Mary and Alice actually renamed themselves Madison and Tinsley, can you believe it? They thought the new names fit better with where they wanted to go, which was up.
But none of that seemed funny at the moment because now I was boring Margaret, humble Maggie at my best, and someone who didn’t fit in. I flushed, heart beating fast. I didn’t belong here, that much was clear.
“Thank you, Butler,” Evelyn said, dismissing the elderly man.
Was this guy’s name actually “Butler” too?
Evan’s mother glided across the room with one hand held out, limp and pale.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maggie. I’m Evelyn Lincoln and that man over there is my husband, Henry.” Her smile was cool but actually had a touch of welcome in it. “We haven’t heard too much about you, but we’re very happy to have you here at last.”
The woman looked into my eyes like she was searching for something, and maybe Evelyn found it. Because her smile got bigger and became more real as she pulled me in for a quick hug then.
“Welcome, dear.”
I blushed and hugged her back. Over her shoulder, Evan grinned before winking. His support made my heart flip over, my nerves going calm. With this man I could do anything, scale giant mountains, even fly over treetops with him by my side.
So I turned to the older woman, a warm smile on my face.
“Thank you for the welcome, Mrs. Lincoln.”
“Please call me Evelyn, sweetheart. Mrs. Lincoln is too formal.”
“And call me Henry.” Evan’s father came up behind us, his voice gruff. The older man took my hand in a rough handshake, one that pumped my wrist and elbow. Ouch. He was just like Bowzer with a giant bone.
Evelyn stared meaningfully at her husband.