Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(9)

The taxi pulled up to the cobblestone driveway and Audrey paid the cab driver as Gretchen got out of the car, Igor’s cat-carrier tucked under her arm. The cat meowed angrily, and she made a shushing noise even as she continued to stare up at the mansion.

She was wearing jeans and a sweater and felt hideously, conspicuously underdressed. And here this was one of her better outfits. Since she didn’t leave the house much, she normally spent her time in yoga pants. But this house made her think anything less than starchy collars and tweed jackets were underdressed. Gretchen swallowed hard as her suitcases were set down on the driveway. “This is uncomfortable.”

Audrey shouldered her small weekend bag and gave Gretchen an odd look. “Where’s all your bravery?”

“I didn’t realize I was going to be living at frickin’ Hogwarts! I—”

The massive wooden front door opened, and a tall, thin man with a bald head and long neck stepped out of the house. Both women fell silent and watched him descend. Gretchen looked at him with keen interest. He wore a small plaid bow tie and a tweed jacket with patches in the elbows. Fascinating. Was he the owner, then? Come to greet her? He didn’t look very friendly.

“Good afternoon,” the man said in a sonorous voice. “Which one of you is Ms. Gretchen Petty?”

She raised a hand. “Here.” She immediately lowered it, feeling like a tool. This wasn’t class. “I brought my sister for the weekend so she can see me settled. I hope that’s okay?”

He gave her a piercing stare, as if she’d displeased him greatly.

At her side, Audrey cleared her throat and stepped forward, iPad in hand. “My employer is Logan Hawkings, a friend of Mr. Buchanan’s. When I told Mr. Hawkings that we would be coming here for the weekend, he told me that he had cleared it with Mr. Buchanan and that it would not be a problem for me to tag along.” Audrey’s tone was direct, crisp, and absolutely business-like in the face of this man’s disapproval.

Gretchen wanted to kiss her sister for putting the man in his place. He must not be Mr. Buchanan, then. Thank God. He looked like he had a massive stick up his ass. Not exactly Gretchen’s kind of person.

After a long moment, the man nodded. “I am aware of Mr. Hawkings’s involvement. If you would please follow me, I can show you to your rooms.”

He turned and began to walk back up the stairs, not offering to help them with their luggage. Lovely. “No, no,” Gretchen began loudly. “Don’t bother. I can carry all the bags. There are Amazons in my ancestry, after all. Me strong like bull.” She flexed mockingly.

The man gave her an ugly stare over his shoulder.

Audrey stifled a giggle and thwacked Gretchen lightly on the arm. “Shut up, already.”

Gretchen simply grinned and tossed her bag over her shoulder. “Come on. The world’s friendliest butler there doesn’t look like he’s going to wait on us.”

They followed behind him, jogging to catch up, as he led them through the house.

When they entered the foyer of the grandiose hall, Gretchen stopped and set down her luggage, her mouth gaping at the sight. A dual staircase curved up the massive marble foyer, and in the center of the ceiling dripped a crystal chandelier. A red runner carpet lined the stairs and Gretchen felt as if she’d been dropped into a TV show. “This place is gorgeous.”

The gentleman escorting them turned and gave her a slight sniff of disapproval. “Of course it is.”

“I wasn’t insulting the place, I was just—”

“Talking. Yes, I noticed.” He turned his back on her and began to go up the stairs.

Wow. She made a face at him and turned to Audrey, who was trying to stifle a giggle behind one hand and failing miserably. “Gee, I hope he’s in charge of the tour,” Gretchen mock-whispered. “He’s got some incredible people skills.”

Audrey batted her arm, laughing.

They followed the butler—at least, Gretchen assumed he was the butler—up to the second floor and down a long, narrow hall. The house was clearly old but everything was in remarkable condition and of the finest make. At the end of the hallway, the butler turned to them. “I have prepared only one room for guests.” And he gave another baleful look at Audrey.

“Oh, it’s not a problem,” Gretchen said sweetly. “It must be terribly difficult to find space around here. You must only have thirty or forty guest bedrooms. I totally understand.”

He stared at Gretchen and then opened the door, choosing to ignore her.

The door opened up into a gorgeous room, and despite the butler’s unpleasant demeanor, Gretchen was delighted at the sight. A large canopied bed that looked like something straight out of the Tudor dynasty jutted out from the far wall, and the vaulting ceiling was painted with dancing cherubs and glittered with more chandeliers.

She stepped over the threshold, a bit surprised at the opulence of the room. She’d been expecting something a bit more like a hotel room, with a simple bed, dresser, and table. She would have been glad for that. This . . . was incredible.

“I trust that this suits your needs?” the butler asked dryly.

Gretchen forced herself to close her mouth and gave him an equally grave look. “It’s a little small,” she lied, “but it’ll suit.”

“I’ll give you a few hours to get settled. Dinner is in two hours and will be brought to your room.”