Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“You could always see if Rome will do it.”
I immediately shook my head. Rome had zero delicacy. No finesse. He was all sledgehammer. “Nope. Last time I tried that, Rome ended up with a black eye and took a baseball bat to Pierce’s new Porsche. They refused to speak for almost six months. It’s better if I try.”
While Pierce might be a grumpy asshole, I still believed that Simon moving to Cincinnati was a good thing. Sawyer would have wanted us looking out for his little brother, and this might also be a chance for Pierce to get past old wounds.
11
BYRON GRAHAM
Sebastian’s house was overwhelming.
Yes, I’d been there before, but I had zero memory of entering the house, and leaving the next day had been about getting out of there as quickly as possible with as much pride as I could scrape together. There had been no grand tour or time to gawk at the beauty.
Wilkins was at the front door to welcome me as I exited my crappy car and walked up the wide main staircase, even though I felt like I should come in via the back or side entrance reserved for servants and deliveries. Regardless of my insecurities, Wilkins never gave a hint that I was less than worthy of being in such a beautiful home.
Everywhere I looked, the place was all clean lines and calming colors. It was rather spartan in its decorations, but that only seemed to lend to the overall elegance. The main foyer was perfect for greeting rich people coming for magnificent parties, where guests wore tuxedos and extravagant gowns as they dripped diamonds and sapphires.
Wilkins led me to a room with huge two-story windows that faced a lawn dotted with expertly manicured trees and shrubs, ending in what appeared to be a vast lake. Really, this house felt as if it should be owned by Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. Just on the edge of the room, Wilkins paused, his brow furrowing.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sorry, Mr. Graham. Master Sebastian asked me to bring you here and see if you’d enjoy a beverage prior to dinner, however…”
My brain was kind enough to supply a hundred different problems that could have arisen in the past hour since I’d last texted him. Most of them involved work and were threatening to cancel our dinner.
“A work problem?”
“No, sir. It’s…dinner…”
That sounded ominous.
“What’s wrong with dinner?” I asked when Wilkins seemed reluctant to continue.
The old butler’s frown deepened, drawing even more wrinkles across his face. His voice dipped to a whisper, as if he were afraid of Sebastian overhearing him. “It’s just that the master wanted to cook dinner himself as a surprise for you, but I don’t believe he’s attempted to cook anything in at least ten years. I don’t think things are going well in the kitchen. He’s already sent the cook away for a night out, and he’s banned me from meddling directly.”
“Ahhhh…” As problems went, this one was at least cute, and one that I thought I could solve with minimal fuss.
“He’s also said that I have the rest of the night off after I get you settled. I think he is determined to have the house to himself.”
I could imagine the dirty things that were running through that deviant’s mind.
“Got it. Why don’t you point me toward the kitchen, and you make a hasty retreat?” I suggested. I’d either be able to help Sebastian cook, or we’d end up ordering a pizza. Both options were fine with me.
“Are you sure, Mr. Graham?”
“Definitely. I’m quite experienced at getting Sebastian out of trouble. This will be nothing new.”
Except this was a lot more trouble than I had been expecting.
At least the kitchen wasn’t on fire when I arrived, just filled with smoke.
“Oh…wow…” might have slipped out as I stepped into the kitchen. It was a glorious thing of broad marble countertops, white cabinets, and shining appliances, but I barely noticed it as smoke clogged the air, something bubbled over in a large pot, and there was something black in a pan on the counter.
“Hey! What are you doing in here?” Sebastian cried out.
“Hoping to save you from a visit from the fire department.”
Sebastian’s wide shoulders slumped, and he hung his head. “This…this is harder than I’d thought it would be.”
“I can see that.”
I swooped in and started turning off burners as I attempted to assess what he’d been trying to make. It looked like spaghetti, but the meatballs in the frying pan were tiny black balls, and the pot he’d selected for the spaghetti made it appear as if he were planning to feed an entire army. There was an empty box of noodles next to the stove.
Sebastian groaned and leaned against the center island, glaring at the stove as if it were to blame for his cooking fail. “I don’t understand how this went so wrong.”