Do their guests actually make it back alive? she wanted to ask, but thought that it would be crass.
The ‘estate’ finally drew up. Rust’s parents actually lived in New York State and not in Manhattan, and so they had to cross the Lincoln tunnel. It would make sense, Kate thought, if they were shifters and they needed the cover of woodland. Rust didn’t seem to need it though.
A pair of wrought iron gates barred their entry. These were emblazoned with motifs of tigers. Kate wondered if Hector knew their significance, and he was probably wondering if she knew it as well. The grounds were surrounded by six foot high walls. Kate wondered how much they extended into the hills which could be clearly seen beyond.
How much of this prime land belonged to Rust’s parents anyway? Why were they even working at all?
The gates opened, and the limo purred in. The driveway was long and fringed by flowered gardens which were obviously well tended to. Kate caught sight of marble fountains and statuary which seemed to be broken off in several places. She didn’t know if that was the intended effect or if the statues really had been broken in some shifter skirmish.
The house finally drew up. It was a very imposing affair – a red brick double-storied mansion with several wings and ivy climbing all over its walls. Several cars were parked in a covered parking lot beside the mansion. Kate wondered if one of them was Rust’s. Surely he wouldn’t leave her alone with his parents!
The limo rolled to a stop. Hector came around to let Kate out.
“Ms. Penney? After you.”
Hector sprang to the door and rang the bell. It seemed to Kate that they waited for an eternity before someone came to the door.
It was Rust, looking red in the face. He looked marvelous, of course – but he was flushed and angry, as though he had just been in an argument with someone. Kate wondered if that someone was his father.
When Rust saw her, a smile immediately wreathed his beautiful features.
“Kate, I’m sorry I was held up last night. But I’m glad you are here.” He held his arms out and she went to them happily.
Hector politely closed the door behind him.
Rust held Kate for a moment longer than she’d expected. He buried his nose in her hair.
“You look lovely,” he said. “Do you like the dress?”
“Yes. It’s very . . . demure.”
“That’s because you’re meeting my parents. But when I have you alone . . . later,” he growled.
Were these the words of a man who was getting ready to dump her? But then, you never knew about Rust. Just like this trip to New York – it was sprung upon her from out of the blue.
“Are you going to introduce us, Rust?” said a voice from behind them.
Rust broke the embrace. A well but simply-dressed woman stood at a doorway to what Kate presumed led to the dining hall. The woman was blonde and very beautiful. Only slight creases around her eyes belied her age. She was dressed in a tailored suit which was more appropriate for the office instead of a light brunch.
“Mother,” he said, “this is Kate Penney. Kate, my mother, Moira.”
Kate’s blood congealed in her veins – she was that nervous. So here she was, meeting Rust’s parents in a significant step. (OK, maybe she was reading too much into everything.) Moira O’Brien was so beautiful, so glacial, so composed. Her ice blue eyes raked Kate up and down in a collected gesture which could be interpreted in so many different ways. Kate remembered that Rust’s mother was a private psychiatrist, and therefore, entirely practiced in maintaining a public mask.
Moira held out her hand and smiled warmly. “Hello, Kate. Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. O’Brien.”
“Call me, Moira, please.” With a studied gesture, Moira slid her arm around Kate’s waist and led her to the dining room. “Are you hungry? We have prepared a sumptuous brunch for you. Rust’s father and I are so happy to meet you.”
Moira was speaking as though Kate was a prospective bride for Rust. Kate darted frightened eyes at Rust, who simply nodded. Play along, his gaze said.
Play along with what? Kate wondered. There seemed to be secrets in every corner of the large, handsomely decorated lounge. Secrets like invisible balloon captions in the air.
The dining hall opened out to a verandah which overlooked an infinity swimming pool. The table was spread with more food than twenty people could eat. There were crispy bacon and different kinds of crusty loaves and cheeses and a salad bowl you could mix greens and nuts in.
A man who looked exactly like what Rust would resemble in thirty years stood up. He held his hand out. “Hello, Kate. I’m Connor, Rust’s father.”