Chapter Twenty-Five #2
Josh stops at a florist on the way and hands the owner his card before I even pick out the flowers I want to buy.
I select extravagant orange-pink roses and baby’s breath.
The information card underneath them says each rose has sixty petals.
His eyes drop to the writing, then he checks his phone and sends a quick text.
Josh looks at me with mild amusement as we get back on the road.
“What?” I ask.
“Akiko will have to spend some time figuring out how to incorporate your flowers into her ikebana.”
“Into her what?”
“Japanese flower arrangement. Well, the art of flower arrangement. She loves it.”
I look at the flowers, then back at him. “Should I have gotten something more Japanese?” I don’t recall anything that looked “Asian” in the store. Besides, do flowers even have nationalities?
“Nah. You’re fine.” A corner of his mouth quirks up higher.
His parents’ home is in one of the most exclusive zip codes in SoCal. All the houses in the area are massive mansions with the top-of-the-line security and gates to keep the occupants safe.
Their place is one of the largest, with a sprawling garden full of beautiful flowers and shrubs.
The understated elegance and the sweeping architecture exude the sort of old-money opulence my parents strive to achieve.
After being at the firm and meeting people from various walks of life, one thing I’ve learned is that money doesn’t always confer taste or confidence.
Josh drives along the winding approach, then parks to the side on a circular driveway in front of the main entrance. A black Maybach and a black Cullinan are parked neatly next to a flaming-red Lamborghini that takes up three spaces.
“Well, we’re learning,” Josh murmurs with a slightly satisfied smirk.
“What do you mean? And isn’t that your aunt’s car?”
“The red Lambo? Yeah, that’s Aunt Jeremiah’s. She always parks like a dick. She’s taking up three spots rather than the usual two because she arrived too early to box us in.”
Josh makes a throaty noise full of amusement, then climbs out and opens the door for me while I gather the bouquet. “Thank you,” I say.
His hand rests at the small of my back as he escorts me up the steps. The warmth from his touch is reassuring, and I inhale slowly. You can do this, Ailee.
The foyer is bigger than my old apartment, with a ceiling so high it seems it should have its own weather. An elegant chandelier lights the space. Silver wolves snarling around a shield glitter on a huge navy tapestry hanging from the ceiling. Underneath the crest reads PIETAS ET UNITAS.
“Loyalty and unity,” I murmur.
“Family is everything,” he says, like it’s something that’s been ingrained in him since birth.
We go deeper into the house, through the beautiful hall.
Several windows on one side face a garden.
The opposite side has nooks with individual spotlights to display earthenware that glows with muted grace.
I’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful before.
They’re the kinds of things I imagine Akiko gesturing at with blasé confidence, casually mentioning they’ve been in her family for generations.
Each piece of pottery features a minimalist flower arrangement.
The second one is simultaneously the least complex and the most interesting—it has one long black branch that stretches upward in slanted twists.
Only two flowers bloom next to it—both of them simple and white.
“Is this the ikebana you mentioned before?” I whisper, my hands growing clammy.
“Yes.”
I look down at the grand bouquet in my arms. Damn it. Now what?
Why can’t you even pick the right kind of flowers, Ailee?
I swear I raised you and your sister the same, but you’re such a failure, comes Mom’s voice in my head.
I bite my lower lip, suddenly feeling ridiculous for thinking I could make his family feel disappointed when our engagement ends.
Then I remember what Josh said earlier and decide to shake it off, trying to imagine how he’d view the situation.
If he thought I’d selected something inappropriate, he would’ve said so.
There are no right or wrong flowers. Being considerate isn’t something to be mocked.
Josh’s chuckle jerks me out of my thoughts. “Don’t worry,” he says. “She’ll find a way to use them.”
“You think so? The roses are really…showy.”
“Akiko won’t keep the same design for long.” Josh puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in for a quick hug. “Trust me.”
My breath catches. When he holds me close and speaks in that steady tone, I feel like he’ll keep me safe even if the world burns down around us.
The dining room is even bigger than the foyer.
I thought Josh’s was large, but this is even more massive, obviously built to entertain a crowd.
I spot seven people. Prescott is in a well-fitted three-piece bespoke suit.
Actually, every Huxley man seems to favor them.
His presence is more imposing than a grouchy bear’s, although I’d never admit that.
Unlike his sister, he’s considered the more solid and staid partner, but no less vicious when it’s necessary to win.
He doesn’t smile often at the firm, and I wonder what he’s like here in his home.
After all, the family motto is loyalty and unity, not surly and snippy.
Jeremiah’s impossible to miss—that bright red hair and mouth and the black power suit that all scream death to anybody who gets in her way.
I’ve seen large male associates stutter when she gazes at them with an arched eyebrow, the corners of her mouth twisting into a subtle sneer.
A half-empty glass of red wine sits in front of her.
She looks like she owns the place. Wisps of smoke rise from the end of a lit cigar.
Her eyes glitter with interest as she looks at me through the tendrils.
I smile, hoping she likes me. It isn’t always easy to tell.
My interaction with her at the firm has been minimal, just like with Prescott.
She’s always too busy to stop by and say hello to Josh.
When she shows up for the firm’s Christmas parties, she’s surrounded by her favored associates, such as Barry.
My eyes drift to Bryce and Ares, also in suits, since it’s Friday and they probably billed till the last minute.
Ares just made junior partner, and he’s busier than ever, according to his assistant.
Lareina waves with a big smile. She’s adorable in a teal sundress.
She drops her head on her husband’s shoulder with a blush, then whispers something to him.
He smiles indulgently, and I blink. I’ve never seen Ares this relaxed and human before.
Bryce’s expression is mildly pinched and lonely. The chair next to him is empty, and he checks his phone for the third time.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
His expression clears as he turns to me. “Yeah, fine. Fiona can’t make it because the smell of the food bothers her.” He heaves a sigh. “But she wants you to know she misses you and wants to have another girls’ day out with you and Lareina.”
I nod, relaxing slightly. “That’d be great. Any time.”
At the head of the table is a black-haired woman with eyes as sharp as knives. She’s knotted her glossy mane into a bun at the base of her head, and her skin is pale and smooth, almost unnaturally wrinkle-free. Her dress is deep blue, which brings out her eyes.
Must be the grandmother. Although she didn’t work for long at Huxley & Webber, there are rumors about her there anyway—that Jeremiah got her ball-busting attitude from her mother. Guess it’s unavoidable that people will whisper behind your back when you’re the matriarch of the Huxleys.
“Catalina Huxley, my dear,” she says, introducing herself. Her eyes soften as she takes me in. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you,” I say, relaxing a little more. When she smiles the sharp edges vanish, making her appear approachable.
An Asian woman in a stunning purple-and-ivory kimono with luxurious plum blossom embroidery walks over. She’s maybe an inch or two shorter than me, and her eyes go warm when she smiles. Fresh white peonies adorn her updo.
“Welcome!” she says. Her beauty isn’t showy—it’s the kind that lasts regardless of age. “I’m Akiko. You’re Ailee, right?”
“Yes. Nice to meet you.” I manage a smile that I hope isn’t nervous. “For you.” I extend the roses.
Her eyes light up with genuine joy. “How lovely! I’ve been thinking about experimenting more with Western flowers recently, and these will be just the thing.”
She puts the bouquet on a side table and hugs me tightly. “Welcome to our home! I’m so glad Josh brought you. I’ve been dying to meet the final daughter-in-law. And find out who gave him the ‘heirloom’!”