Strings of the Heart (Runaway Train #3)(36)

“Why hello there, stranger!” she cried.

Rhys’s face broke into a smile for the first time since we’d pulled into the driveway. “Ozella, my most favorite cook in the whole wide world.”

She wagged a finger at him. “I’m the only cook you’ve ever had.”

He laughed. “You’re still the best.”

His compliment sent a beaming smile across her face. “Well, since you’re a world traveler and famous musician, I’ll take your word for it.”

After they exchanged a hug, Rhys turned back to me. “Allison, this is Mrs. Ozella Princeton. She was our family’s personal cook from before I was born up until a few years ago.”

She smiled. “If I hadn’t had to retire for health reasons, I’d still be here. But I always come supervise Mrs. McGowan’s major parties.”

I held out my hand. “It’s nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.” Once she released my hand, she smacked Rhys playfully on the shoulder. “Now why didn’t you call and tell me you had settled down?”

Both Rhys and my eyes bulged at her mistake. “No, no, we’re not together like that,” Rhys quickly corrected.

Ozella’s brows creased in confusion. “Then how are you together?”

“He’s my brother’s best friend,” I replied, at the same time Rhys said, “She’s my bandmate’s little sister.”

“Uh-huh,” Ozella replied, a knowing look flickering in her eyes. I couldn’t help wondering why she had jumped to such a conclusion. Had Rhys never brought girls around before? Or was it more in the way we interacted with each other?

Her comment left us all in an awkward silence with me gnawing my lip, and Rhys fidgeting with the lapels and then the cuffs on his tux top.

“Zell, we need you,” someone called from across the room.

“Be right there,” Ozella called. Leaning in, she gave Rhys another hug. “Sorry, honey. I’ve got work to do.”

“It was so good seeing you,” Rhys said, as he squeezed her tight.

“You too. Don’t be a stranger when you’re in town. Come to see me anytime.”

Rhys nodded. “I will.”

Ozella winked at me. “You’re welcome, too, Allison.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, not daring to look at Rhys’s expression.

After Ozella had hurried off, Rhys turned to me. “Come,” he said, holding out his hand to me. “Let’s go find my parents so I can properly introduce you.”

Although I nodded in agreement, I fought the urge to stay in the kitchen or anywhere that was far, far away from his parents. It had been bad enough spending any time with his mother. I couldn’t imagine his father would be any better.

Tucked close to his side, I followed him out of the kitchen and into a long hallway. It reminded me a lot of the entrance hallway at the Mercer Williams House. My heels clacked along the marble floor beneath my feet while two glittering, crystal chandeliers lit our way. From ahead of us, I could hear the sound of a string quartet playing. A classical repertoire floated through the air, and for a moment, the relaxing music calmed me.

Pointing up the hallway, Rhys said, “The first room on the right is the ballroom. That’s where the music is coming from and where most of the party guests are. The doors open to a veranda.”

I widened my eyes. “You have a ballroom?”

He shrugged as if it was the most normal thing in the world to have a ballroom. “We also have a study, library, and a billiard room, just like in Clue.”

A nervous giggle escaped my lips. “You do?”

“It was fun growing up with such a big house to explore, but now it seems a bit pretentious.”

Inwardly, I agreed with him. I’d never been comfortable with over-the-top expressions of wealth. While my parents made good money, we lived rather modestly compared to a lot of their friends. I was thankful that when Runaway Train took off, Jake stayed very true to his roots, which meant staying at the farm he grew up on. “I never knew you were this rich.”

Rhys shook his head. “Just remember, this is my parents’ world—it isn’t mine. It never has been, nor will it ever be.”

“I’ll try,” I murmured, as Rhys swept me into a room to the left. This must have been the formal living room. It was heavy on the formal part with chandeliers, Persian rugs, and ornate furniture. It certainly wasn’t the type of living room where you kicked off your shoes and watched TV.

“Rhys darling, there you are,” Margaret called from the corner of the room. She, and who I assumed was Rhys’s father, was talking with another couple. As we approached, the couple excused themselves, and then it was just the four of us.

“Mother, I believe you have had the pleasure, but Father, please allow me to introduce to you, Allison Slater.”

Rhys’s father’s dark eyes narrowed slightly at me as he took a puff of a foul-smelling cigar. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Slater. I’m Elliot McGowan,” he said, extending a hand. Just like Rhys, he was outfitted in a blue and green checked kilt.

As I shook his hand, I quickly replied, “It’s a pleasure meeting you too, sir.”

“I understand you’re here in Savannah for school.”