RUSH (City Lights, #3)(79)
Noah seemed to know what was expected and held out his hand for his father to shake. “Hi, Dad.”
Mr. Lake pulled Noah to him and embraced him as well—which surprised both men—and I clutched Lucien’s arm. It was like watching those viral videos online where an excitable lady is told she’s going to be a grandmother, or a military son surprises his mom by coming home. Those moments get me every time, and here it was happening right before my eyes, only a million times stronger. When something wonderful happens to the person you love, you can’t help but feel overjoyed too.
Mrs. Lake turned to me. “And you must be Charlotte.” She embraced me in a cloud of perfume and expensive linen, but her arms around me were soft and welcoming. “I’m so very pleased to meet you. We must sit down this weekend and chat, you and I.” She spoke slowly and distinctly, her eyes speaking volumes. She wanted to talk to me about Noah, of course, but didn’t want to make him self-conscious. Her husband was less discreet.
Mr. Lake shook my hand. “Bang-up job, Miss Conroy.”
“Dad.” Noah shook his head.
“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” Grayson Lake smiled down at me. He was as tall as his son. They all were; even Lucien towered over me. Mr. Lake pumped my hand. “Someone deserves a raise.”
“Oh, no…I wouldn’t…” I stammered something unintelligible even to myself, my cheeks burning.
With practiced ease, Mrs. Lake swooped in. “Charlotte, let’s set you up in the west suite…Oh. Unless it’s best you stay close to Noah? We can give you the room beside his…?”
“Give them the same room, Mother,” came a voice from above. “They’re a couple, after all.”
I looked up to see a young woman descend the curved staircase like a debutant making her presentation. The fact she was dressed in shorts and a silky blouse did nothing to dispel the notion. She was Noah’s spitting image, remade as a woman with all his beauty in feminine form: tall, raven haired, with the same astonishing hazel eyes. Twins. They’re not just brother and sister, they’re twins.
“I’m Ava,” the woman said, extending her hand to me. “You must be Charlotte. I’ve heard a lot about you from Lucien. Very pleased to meet you.”
I shook her hand, feeling a bit star struck. Ava Lake had more poise, self-possession, and confidence in one little finger than I had in my whole body. Except when I’m on stage, came a sudden thought. On stage, I’m powerful… A pang of loss gripped my heart as I remembered my lost violin, but I forced a smile.
“Pleased to meet you too.”
“What do you mean, they’re a couple?” Mrs. Lake asked, looking at her son. “Is this true?”
“I saw them arrive from my little perch upstairs,” Ava said. She moved to stand in front of her brother. “Nice glasses.”
“Still tattling on me?” Noah asked gruffly.
Ava studied her brother, her luminous eyes full. “Yes. And if history is any indicator, you’ll be allowed to share a room, because you’re a guy. The last time I brought a boyfriend home, Dad wanted to put him up in a hotel.”
Noah smirked. “You have a boyfriend, Ava? Or did you slap a tie on a pile of work and bring that home?”
Ava didn’t reply, but just leaned against Noah’s chest and sighed. He tilted his head up, as if looking at the ceiling, then put his arms around his sister.
“I’m so…happy.” Victoria clasped her hands over her heart. “Just so very happy.”
“Very good,” Lucien said after a moment, his voice thick. “Paul? Would you please take these bags to the westward suite?”
I looked around and a middle-aged man in khakis and a polo shirt I hadn’t seen standing in the next room stepped in to take Noah’s and mine rolling suitcases.
“This is Paul Gettings, our manager of the house,” Lucien said. “Paul, this is Charlotte.”
“If ever you need a thing, just call,” Paul said, flashing me a brilliant smile.
“Thank you, Paul,” said Mrs. Lake. “Let’s adjourn to the patio. It’s a gorgeous day and Ramona has made some of her delicious lemonade.”
There was an awkward moment in which we all shuffled about the foyer, the Lakes all wanting to help Noah but each hesitant or unsure what to do. I slipped in between all these tall Tree People, and offered my arm, which Noah took with a relieved sigh only I could hear. He unfolded his white stick—a spare, since his first had been lost last night.
It was surreal to think that only a handful of hours earlier, we’d been standing in the darkened street fearing for our lives, and now we were in the bright, airy richness of the Lake residence.
Lucien led the way out of the foyer, and while the Lakes were all too refined to stare, they turned frequently to beam at us. Mrs. Lake drank in as much of Noah as she could in little sips, watching him tap his way through the house with pride, elation, and sorrow by turn.
We made our way through the house that seemed a never-ending maze of one elegantly appointed room after another. We reached a kitchen—one of two, I learned—that looked as if it should be featured in a catalogue or home and garden TV show. The view beyond the quartz counters and steel appliances was something out of a lottery-winner’s greatest fantasy.