Dirty Little Secrets(90)

Pulling into the driveway, I thought about the perfect storm that seemed to have fallen over my life. First my boyfriend, Tom, had broken up with me by cheating with some bar slut. Then the accident with the drone, then the baseball, what was next?

When I saw Wesley’s truck, the first smile in what felt like days came over my lightly tanned face. My stepbrother and I shared so many interests it was uncanny. He could be exactly what I needed right now. He always had a way of making me smile.

He had his rugged side from being an Army Ranger and all. He technically wasn’t a Ranger anymore, but he still stayed in immaculate shape. One thing you’d never expect, though, is that he did have brains behind all that brawn. It was something you’d never expect if you saw him, being a massive young man that commands respect with his presence. My robotics and his computer engineering often worked hand in hand, and we could bore both of our parents to death with discussions of code and applications of programming.

However, it was clear we had different genes. Wes stayed tan, but my skin is much darker, a gift from my birth father’s Apache heritage, and my eyes are as black as Wesley’s are blue. My hair is a darker, jet black as opposed to the rich brown that Wesley sports.

Grabbing the letter from under the baseball, I stuffed it in the pocket of my bomber jacket before heading to the front door. Winston had the door open and waiting for me before I was even three-quarters of the way up the stairs.

“Miss Robin,” he said, his eyes glancing toward my car. “Shall I have a repair service called?”

“That would be great, Winston, but it’s no rush. I’ll be staying overnight at least. I hope you haven’t rented my room out on Airbnb?”

My joke caused the faintest crack in the butler’s expression, something no one else seemed to be able to do, and his lips lifted into a genuine smile. Even from my earliest days in the mansion, just after Mom had married Gerald, I had always been able to somehow easily penetrate Winston’s exterior far better than anyone else, even more than Wesley. “Not at all, Miss Robin. I will send someone up to fluff the pillows though. Everyone is in the family room if you wish to join them.”

“Thanks, Winston. Have you already adjusted the dinner order? Chef handling it all right?”

“Of course, Miss Robin. He had plenty already, he just had to adjust what you will be having for lunch tomorrow. Your mother had originally wanted cold roast beef sandwiches. Instead the beef will be served tonight, and lunch tomorrow will be different.”

“You and Chef keep this place running, you know that? Thanks again, Winston.”

It was true. While some of the memories were a bit hazy, I remembered what life had been like before Mom had married Gerald. Mom was a good doctor, but she was still paying off her medical school bills, so after my birth father died, things were nowhere near as luxurious as our life was now. Winston and Chef are as much a part of my family as Gerald or even Wesley, and I think Winston, at least, sees me the same way.

I made my way to the family room, my mood brightening as I heard the clash and clang of swords from the television. Sticking my head around the doorway, I watched as Mom rolled her eyes while two men hacked at each other with swords on the television. “Just turn it off when Robin gets here, before they start singing my cock rages on,” Mom begged Gerald, who had his eyes glued to the screen. Looking up, she saw my head in the doorway, and with a happy tap on Gerald’s arm, she rose to her feet. “Honey!”

“Hey, Mom,” I greeted, coming in and hugging her. Gerald also held his arms out for a hug, which I happily gave. I don’t know what it was about Wesley and his father not hugging one another, but for me, Gerald always had open arms and a ready hug. “And I see you’re still driving Mom crazy with your love of swords and sandals television.”

“If your Mother can make me sit through hour after hour of cooking shows, I can watch my gladiators hack away at each other. How are you doing, sweetheart? Your mother said you weren’t having the greatest of times.”

I looked from Mom to Gerald, and over to my stepbrother Wes, who was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. I could see that he wanted to come over and hug me too, but he didn’t want to surround me with people. He has always had that almost psychic level of understanding with me, and I could tell he already knew something was wrong with me, even without Gerald saying anything. Scooting over on the couch, he patted the cushion next to him in invitation.

“Sit down and relax,” Wesley offered. “I already promised Mother and Father that I would be on my best behavior.”