Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Nina
The beautiful moonlit sky casts a shadow over the sprawling home before me.
It’s magnificent. Curved granite steps lead up from the circular driveway, leading to a terrace that runs from the left and right of the double-fronted doors.
Ivy creeps up and around the windows covering a third of the mansion.
It must be a listed property; it’s so grand.
I can’t imagine growing up in a place like this.
Mason stands unmoving at the bottom of the steps, his shoulders set and his jaw tight. I slip my hand into his and squeeze.
I’m here, Bossman.
“I can’t wait to see inside.” I swing our arms between us. “It’s stunning, Mason.”
“Come on,” he mumbles, pulling me forward and up the steps.
I can feel him shutting down already.
He ushers me through the door, taking his time to close it. He doesn’t turn around straight away, and I watch his back as he moves the champagne he had under his arm from one side to the other, then back again.
I step forward, sliding between him and the door, then reaching up, I take his face in my hands.
“Mase, we can leave?” His eyes search mine for something I’m unsure I hold. “But I would love to meet your family.”
Let me in.
He nods his head then pulls me through the house and towards the noise at the back of the property.
His family is sitting out on the terrace, which must wrap around the entire house.
It’s tranquil, with lanterns scattered throughout the area and a fire that burns in a little chimney in the corner.
Beyond that lies miles and miles of uninterrupted countryside.
“Mason, you’re here.”
I recognise the man immediately. He’s the man from the photo in Mason’s home office. His dad. He has aged some since it was taken, but the sharp line of his jaw and the deep dark brown of his eyes match his son’s.
“Dad,” Mason says, placing me to his front. I can’t help but feel like it’s a shield. “This is Nina, my girlfriend.”
It’s unexplainable, the feeling that flits through my chest. For a second it’s almost painful, jarring my entire body, but it spreads fast and ends in the tips of my fingers.
I crave it.
“Hello, Mr Lowell.” I reach out my hand to him, feeling unsure when he doesn’t take it immediately.
“Girlfriend? Right, sorry. Hello, Nina. Please, call me Anthony.” He looks to Mason in question, while taking my hand in a gentle shake. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to meet you.”
“You too, Mr Lowell.”
He nods his head, still looking at Mason, then his glassy eyes come back to me.
Mason puts his hand on my back and steers me forward. “I’m going to introduce Nina to the others.”
“Of course.” Anthony smiles, stealing a moment as he walks to the edge of the patio, looking out over the rolling hills and setting sun.
He seems frail. Much smaller than he looked in the photo.
John always tells us that as you get older, the weight tends to be harder to shift.
It’s an excuse for extra apple pie, I’m sure—but if it is true, then that’s not the case here, and as Anthony leans against the flower bed, grasping the granite planter to steady himself, I wonder just how bad his addiction is.
“Frey, Glen,” Mason greets the couple standing at the fire. “Nina, these are Elliot’s parents, Freya and Glen Montgomery.”
I shake both their hands as they smile warmly at me.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Nina. Elliot has told me so much about you. And your friends Megan and Lucy? I do hope I’m not making that up.” She leans into me as she laughs.
“No, that’s right.” I chuckle. “Elliot told you about us?” I frown, looking across the terrace at him. He is sitting in a big circular lounge chair, chatting to Charlie, who sits opposite him.
“Oh, he loves the ladies. You’ll have to get used to that and never tell the boy a secret.”
I smile, deciding I already like her. Frey Montgomery is exactly how I’d expect her to be. She oozes class, her ashy blonde hair cut into a long bob that perfectly suits her petite frame, and her clothes, all white linen.
Glen, Elliot’s dad, is tall, just like Elliot, but has dark brown hair speckled with grey around the sides.
“Yes, he does seem to be quite taken with the girls.” I smile, my mind wandering back to the first night we met.
“Where’s Scar?” Mason asks.
“Kitchen,” Freya replies. “She wouldn’t let me help her.”
“Why does that not surprise me? Come on, I want you to meet her.” Mason leads me back towards the door, but I stop when we pass the boys, needing a moment to breathe after already meeting half the people here in under a minute.
Charlie stands to hug me. “Nina, it’s good to see you.”
“I should apologise for yesterday,” I say, my mouth pulling down on one side as I wince.
He chuckles, taking a swig of his beer. “It’s fine. I was bored shitless anyway. You don’t need to apologise to me, that’s for sure.”
“Nor me,” Elliot pipes up, standing from the chair. “I’ve been waiting years to see this prick get put in his place.”
Mason shakes his head, placing a hand on my back. “On that note. See you later, assholes.”
He guides me towards the back door again, but just as we cross the threshold, we run into a petite lavender-haired woman carrying a tray of canapés.
“Fucking-great-shit-balls!” She shrieks as the canapés clatter to the floor. “MASE! Why are you storming through the door like that for? Look what you’ve done!”
“Me? It’s not my fault; you had the damn thing in front of your face.” Mason proclaims, refusing to take the blame.
The lavender-haired girl—who I presume is Scarlet—tuts. “Always my fault.” She laughs, twisting her lips into a pout then pulling him in for a hug. “It’s good to see you, big brother.”
I look between the two siblings, suddenly feeling nervous to meet Scarlet. She is nothing like what I expected. “Hello,” I say.
She turns to me, blinking rapidly as she looks back to Mason in question. “Hello, I’m sorry, who are you?”
“This is Nina,” Mason replies proudly.
“This is Nina,” she repeats, still smiling as she looks between us. “And Nina is…”
“My girlfriend.”
“The what the what? Girlfriend? That’s a first.” She laughs awkwardly, clearly surprised by the information. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m sorry my brother has caught me off guard. He didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“It’s fine!” I wave her off, bending to pick up the canapés—although they are no longer edible. “Do you need a hand? I can help you with these.”
“You don’t have to do that, Nina,” Mason tells me, pulling on my elbow.
I shrug him off. “It’s fine. Two sets of hands will get it done twice as fast.” I smile over at his sister, who is on her knees, scraping up the last of the mess.
“My name’s Scarlet, but you can call me Scar.” She puts out her hand, then cringes when she realises it’s covered in a mixture of toppings.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” I tell her, laughing with her when I don’t take her hand.
“My brother hasn’t told you anything about me, though, I presume,” she says, looking up at Mason.
Mason slips his arm around my waist when I stand. “I brought her to meet you, Scar.”
Her shoulders sag, and something in the air shifts. “Dad’s been struggling,” she tells him.
His hand tightens on my side, and he doesn’t say anything more. An awkward silence settling between the three of us.
“I’m going to get some more champagne.” Scarlet’s eyes lower to the floor as Mase gestures for me to walk on in front of him, but I don’t want to leave his sister alone to clean up the mess.
“It’s okay, you go. I’m going to help your sister.”
“You don’t need to,” he whispers in my ear.
I turn, kissing the side of his mouth. “I want to.”
Scarlet leads me into the kitchen, which sits in the middle of the house. It’s modern but traditional, with a farmhouse feel to it. It’s got lots of mess, and it’s homely. It’s completely different to Mason’s.
“Would you like a drink?” Scarlet asks, pulling open the fridge.
“I’d love one, thank you,” I say, sliding onto a stool at the island. “Your home is beautiful.”
She turns, wine bottle grasped in her hand. “Thanks. As you can see, it needs some TLC. I’ve barely managed to scratch the surface over the years, but I’m getting there.”
“You wouldn’t get someone in to do the work for you? I’m sure Mase would know someone. It’s real estate your family is in, right?”
“My dad and Mase, not me. I wouldn’t know where to start with the ‘family’ business, and have you seen Mason’s place?
I’d never let his minions loose in this place.
” She grins, and I know exactly what she means.
“And I kind of love doing it myself; it’s rewarding to finish a room and then pick the next. ”
She whirls around the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers until she has two glasses and a bottle opener in hand.
I get the feeling Scarlet is a doer. She’s quirky in her style and seems like a creative ‘out there’ kind of person.
I mean, she’s wearing combat boots with her pale blue midi dress and lilac hair, yet she is rocking it.
With the money that I presume comes with the Lowell name, I’m shocked at how utterly normal she is.
“I love that. I’m completely awful at all things DIY.” I laugh. “Would Mase not come and help you at least?”
She looks at me as if I’d grown two heads. “Oh boy, you’re in for a ride. He doesn’t come here. Not unless he has to.”
“Like when your dad is having a bad day?” I give her a tight smile.
“Exactly.” She slumps down into the chair next to me, filling both glasses with wine. “He told you about that?” she asks, her eyebrows dipping into a frown.
“Yeah, I mean, not all that willingly.” I take a small sip. “but it came up.”
“Mason had our parents for three years more than me, and I think he remembers a lot about Mum, whereas I only have the pictures.”
“I’m so sorry, Scarlet.”
“Please call me Scar.” She clinks our glasses together, taking a large gulp from her glass. “How did you meet my brother?”