“You start your new job tomorrow, right?”
“I do,” he replied.
“I’m going to get some of my friends and we’re going to come down there and sit at one of your tables.”
Ricky shuddered. He knew she would. “Sorry, Mom.”
His mother cackled, which made Ricky and his sister laugh along with her.
When Ricky noticed the long, sleek limousine turn the corner, his mouth went dry. Darwin had said he’d pick them up, but he hadn’t expected him to come in his limo. He glanced around, hoping no one saw the ostentatious display. Having his neighbors see this, and then start teasing him? Totally the last thing he needed.
The car stopped and a good-looking man stepped out of the driver’s seat. Dark hair, with just a touch of premature gray peeking out from under the smart cap he wore. Slate gray eyes made him look cold and calculating, but Darwin had told him that although Henley looked tough, he was a true pussycat. Usually.
The man stepped around the car and pulled open the back door. Darwin sat there, looking every bit like the man holding court. Ricky swallowed.
“Good evening. I’d get out to introduce myself, but Maria said if I didn’t have you back to the house promptly by seven, not to bother coming home at all.”
Ricky’s mother and sister laughed, then slid into the car. Henley tipped his hat to them as they entered. Ricky got in last, taking the seat beside Darwin. Henley closed the door, then went back to the driver’s side and got in.
The smell of leather enhanced Darwin’s natural aroma and warmth, making it hard for Ricky to breathe without devilish thoughts popping into his head. He discreetly placed his hands across his lap. When he looked up, his sister waggled her brows at him, and Ricky stifled a groan. Leave it to Trish to notice his discomfort.
“Since my son is too rude to introduce us, this is my daughter Trish. I’m Megan Donnelly.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Ricky’s talked fondly about you.”
Ricky’s mom snorted. “You don’t have to try to cover his shortcomings. Not like I don’t already know about them.”
“Mom,” Ricky whined.
She laughed and turned her attention back to Darwin. “I love your car.”
A slight pink creeped up Darwin’s neck. “Thank you. We would have brought the regular one, but Henley thought we should make a show of it.”
“Plus the fact that I picked it out,” Henley called from the front seat.
“He did,” Darwin admitted. “I like the small and sporty one. He wanted ridiculously long so you’d see it. Personally, I think he’s a size queen. We compromised and got both. I don’t usually use this one, though. As for the man driving, that’s Henley. My full time driver and sometimes best friend.”
“Ooh, your razor wit draws blood, Dare,” Henley responded, not taking his eyes off the road.
The rest of the trip to Darwin’s house had Trish and Ricky’s mom peppering him with questions. They ran the gamut from how did the two of them meet to what kind of work Kincade International did. Darwin answered them all with great aplomb.
When Henley informed them that they’d arrived, Ricky looked up, and the air whooshed from his lungs as if he’d been punched. Darwin kept saying house, but the place that lay before them wasn’t a house. It was a freaking mansion. The trip up the circular drive took nearly five minutes, during which time Ricky noted the immaculately sculpted topiaries, the dark green grass trimmed uniformly, and the giant marble fountain that stood dead center amongst it all, with fish spraying water into a basin lit with all the colors of the rainbow.
Henley opened the door, held out a hand for the ladies, and stood back as Ricky stepped out. He’d never seen a place like this before, and his discomfort continued to rise as they walked toward the door.
From what little he could see of the outside, the place took up a lot of space. Ricky couldn’t even see the full building. It stood three stories tall, with enormous windows that had to be a pain to clean. At first glance, the exterior seemed to be made of stone, but as Ricky stepped up onto the open-air porch, he could see the hewn wood with a cream-colored paint that had been done in such a way as to resemble sandstone blocks.
“The estate is called Kincade Manor. Built around 1820 by Augustus Kincade as a gift to his young wife Alicia, it was the preeminent destination for those who wanted to be seen. When Augustus died at eighty, his sons inherited it. One of the boys, Emil, had already built a successful life as a lawyer in Wisconsin and had no desire to come back to Illinois, so he gifted his part of the bequest to his brother, Thaddeus. Rumor had it that old Thad was gay and never had children. When he died, he left it to his nephew, Jeremiah. After that things get a bit hazy what with the Civil War. The house changed hands more than once, falling from the family due to misfortune of the times. About sixty years ago, my grandfather bought it back and had it restored to what it is today.”
Trish and Ricky’s mom stood in awe as Darwin opened the front doors of the mansion. The sick, twisted feeling that had settled in Ricky’s gut exploded throughout his body at the sight of crystal chandeliers refracting the light into luminous cascades of color that danced around the ornate entryway.
They were met by an older gentleman, maybe sixty. He asked for and took their coats, then hung them up in a closet that seemed enormous. While Ricky stared, the man cleared his throat, drawing Ricky’s attention. They were led through the house as Darwin pointed out some of the features, like being the first house in the area with actual plumbing and electricity.
Ricky barely heard what Darwin said. He couldn’t take his eyes off the place. His whole apartment would fit in the damned entryway. Snakes slithered through his gut as the enormity of the differences between him and Darwin hit home. With every word that Darwin spoke, the chasm between the two of them seemed to become more impossible to bridge.
When the man—butler?—finally opened the door to the dining room, everything Ricky thought of as being rich went out the window. The table appeared to be carved from an enormous single piece of wood, then highly polished. You could see the knots and grain clearly through whatever coated it. He did a quick count, and winced as he found space for eighteen people around the table. Who the hell even knew that many people?
Darwin thanked the man who’d guided them in. He gave a half-bow and exited through the door they’d used to come in.
“Okay, we’re about to enter the inner sanctum. Maria is looking forward to meeting you, and we’ll start with the first course in about fifteen minutes. She’s got canapés in the kitchen if anyone is feeling a little hungry.”
When Darwin ushered them into the kitchen, the gleam of copper cookware hanging over the kitchen island caught Ricky’s attention. Of everything he’d seen so far, the kitchen appeared to be the warmest and most inviting room. It seemed out of place in the palatial home, looking as though it would fit perfectly in a rustic bed and breakfast. The cabinets were rough-hewn wood with leaded glass windows. Marble countertops were filled with odds and ends, and a harried-looking woman stood on the other side of them, her hands a blur as she measured and chopped.
“This gem of a woman is Maria. She’s been part of the family for a while now—in other words, she said if I told you how old she was, she’d refuse to feed me—and we love having her here.”
Darwin reached across the counter and picked up a piece of tomato, which earned him a thwack on the hand from the wooden spoon Maria snatched up.
“If you want food, go grab the trays and hand them out. Or get the so-called waiters in here. Those lazy asses haven’t done anything all day to help their mama.”
Ricky’s mom snickered, and that earned her a bright smile from Maria.
“How do you do? I’m Maria Gonzales.” She held out a hand, then drew it back. “My apologies. I forgot I’m not really presentable right now.”
Darwin leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re gorgeous, and I don’t ever want to hear you say other
wise. And be nice to your boys. They’re good kids. They take after their mother.”
Her skin darkened slightly, and she gazed up at Darwin, blatant affection in her eyes.
“Did you want to eat here or in the formal room? I need to have those useless boys set the table.”
Darwin pulled Ricky to the side. “It’s up to you. Do you want the whole experience, or would you rather it be more intimate? We have two waiters standing by, so we can do either.”
Ricky couldn’t believe what Darwin asked. The thought of eating in that massive room had his stomach doing flips. He’d never felt so out of place anywhere before. “In here, please,” he whispered.
“We’ll eat in here, Maria.”
“Tomás! You and your brother get out here and get ready for our guests.”
Two young teens stepped into the kitchen. They were dressed in burgundy vests with crisp white shirts and black pants with razor sharp pleats, and except for their ages, they’d look at home in any high-class restaurant.
“Good evening, Mister Darwin. How many will be dining this evening?”
“Four of us, please Martín. We’ll be eating in this room, so once the meal is served, we won’t be needing your service.”
“Oh, no!” Maria shouted. “When they put down dinner, there are plenty of pots that need washing, and a floor that could use a good scrubbing.”
“Maria?” Darwin said, his brow furrowing.
She huffed. “Fine. They can do them tomorrow.”
Darwin smiled. “Thank you.”
The two servers picked up the trays and started passing finger food around. It all seemed so silly to Ricky. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t help themselves. When one of them, Tomás, Ricky thought, held out the silver platter to him, Ricky shook his head. The young waiter gave him a big smile before he moved on to the next person.
“Dinner will be ready in a minute,” Maria called out.
“Time to sit.” Darwin pulled out the chairs for Ricky’s mother and sister, then took his place at the head of the table. Ricky watched as one of the brothers collected a tureen from their mother, then carefully ladled soup into the waiting bowls, while the other put down baskets of piping hot rolls.
“This is Mexican beef soup,” Tomás said. “It’s our grandmother’s recipe that mama has adapted. She left out the meat in case anyone is vegetarian,” he explained.
“I wouldn’t have had to if someone had done what I asked so I knew what to make.”
“I said I was sorry,” Darwin said petulantly. “It wasn’t like you gave me a lot of time to get this together.”
Ricky glanced over at Maria, who had a slight grin on her face. She seemed perfectly at ease in her kitchen. His first bite of the soup had him wanting to beg for the recipe. He could taste the spices and herbs, the lime juice, and the garlic. Chunks of potato and cabbage swirled in the rich dark broth. Despite the uncomfortable weight in his stomach, Ricky grabbed a roll and slathered it with butter.
“This is so good,” he moaned, then shifted his gaze down to his plate.
Maria stepped up behind him and lightly pinched his cheek. “This is a good boy, Darwin. He knows how to make an old woman feel proud.”
“He’s a suck-up,” Ricky’s mother said. “He never compliments my food.”
“Maybe that’s because your food isn’t this good, Mom,” Trish teased.
“You raise them, and they turn into such asses,” his mother snapped.
Ricky’s cheeks heated in embarrassment at his mother’s language, but Maria laughed and said she couldn’t agree more.
After their bowls were emptied, Maria’s sons cleared them away, then put down a small salad with thick chunks of what appeared to be mango and avocado.
“This salad is a little sweet and just a bit spicy. It has mango, avocado, red cabbage, and mama’s homemade cilantro-lime dressing. Just between us, it’s probably the only salad I like.”
And Ricky enjoyed it, too. Sweet and tart commingled with just the right amount of heat to give Ricky’s tongue a slight burn.
“Make sure you save room, though. Mama has made something special for dinner, and she’s nervous about how it will turn out.”
“Martín!” Maria let fly with a string of words that Ricky didn’t understand. Darwin’s cheeks turned a bright red, and the two boys giggled and hurried out of the kitchen.
“She’s telling them what ungrateful kids they are, then threatening to take away their video games,” Darwin said, his cheeks almost scarlet.
“I speak a little Spanish, and that definitely wasn’t their video games she was threatening,” Trish said.
“I am so sorry,” Maria apologized. “They’re good boys, even if sometimes they need to be disciplined. Unfortunately, Darwin refuses to do it.”
“Please,” Darwin said, frowning at Maria. “Your kids are way more afraid of you than of me. Hell, I’m afraid of you.”
That comment set everyone but Ricky to laughing. He wasn’t sure why. It had been funny. But he couldn’t get it out of his head that his family had come to a mansion for dinner with a man who had his staff serving them. The worst part about it? His mother and sister seemed to be perfectly at ease.
After the boys came back and cleared away the plates, they put down the main course. It smelled absolutely delicious and reminded Ricky of the cannelloni they served at Rossi’s.
“This is a recipe I got from the internet—”
“That we had to help her find,” Martín said with a laugh.
“It has pan-roasted wild mushrooms, shallots, thyme, and a blend of other mushrooms. The sauce is made with sweet potatoes, so if anyone doesn’t like it, I have other things I can cook for you.”
“Are you kidding?” Trish declared. “This smells amazing.”
“Thank you for your kind words,” Maria said, preening just a little.
Ricky pushed his plate away. Trish wasn’t wrong, the food did smell great, but his stomach clenched, to an almost painful level. He stood and glanced around the table.
“I think I need to go home,” he said. “I’m not feeling so well.”
His mom stood and put her hand on his forehead, just as she’d done when he was little. “You’re kind of clammy. What’s wrong?”
He wanted to say his stomach, but Maria cast nervous glances at him, and he had no desire to upset her.
“I’ve got a headache,” he lied. “Maybe a migraine coming on.”
His mother gave him one of her patented looks that told him she knew better, because Ricky had never suffered a migraine before. “Why don’t you go lie down on the sofa. Would that be okay, Darwin?”
“You can rest in the guest room if you’d like,” came the reply.
“No, I left my pills at home. I think I should probably just go. Thank you for dinner, Maria. You’re amazing.”
His eyes burned as the force of his discomfort hit him. He needed to be out of here. Away from this place where he didn’t belong. Where he would never belong.
“I can have Henley take you home,” Darwin said softly.
Ricky could see the sadness in Darwin’s expression. He’d put that there, and he had no idea how to take it away.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll make it home. Besides, you have guests.”
“At least let me call you a cab, okay?” Darwin asked, slipping an arm around Ricky’s waist.
Ricky nodded. His lungs started to ache, and he couldn’t seem to draw in a decent breath.
“You all go ahead and eat,” Darwin said. “I’m going to walk Ricky out. After dinner, we’ll have dessert, and then we can take you home.”
Ricky’s mom started to follow, but he held up his hand. “Eat, Mom. Enjoy. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
After he retrieved his jacket, the stepped out onto the veranda, when Darwin turned to Ricky.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to take in. I really wanted to impress your family. Seems I botched that.”
He put his hands on the r
ailing.
“It’s not that,” Ricky argued. “I just—I don’t know how I should feel.”
Darwin nodded. “I get it. Really. I’ve been wrestling with that myself. This is so different for me, but not for the same reasons. I like you, Ricky. A lot. You’ve opened my eyes to so many things I didn’t realize I was missing out on. But you’re uncomfortable, and I think you might need some time to think about it.
“I know you’re starting the new job tomorrow, so how about if we just do some phone calls. Get back to a comfort zone. Then we’ll see where we’re at.”
“Okay,” Ricky said softly. He couldn’t believe he could walk away from Darwin. He’d halfway fallen for the man the first night in the restaurant, but when he’d brought the corn dogs in for dinner? That had pushed him over into the love column quickly.
Darwin called for the cab, and the two of them sat on an old wooden swing at the end of the porch. The night should have been comfortable, but a chill coursed through Ricky, and the depth of it scared him.
When the cab pulled up, Darwin walked him down to the drive. He paid the driver, despite Ricky’s protest, then hugged him. As soon as the warmth enveloped him, the tears started streaming down his face.
“Good night, Ricky,” Darwin whispered, then hurried back into the house.
“Good-bye, Darwin,” Ricky replied.
Chapter Eleven
The next two weeks they spoke sporadically. With Ricky training, Darwin didn’t want to interrupt him, no matter how much he missed hearing that voice. The times they did talk, the conversation stayed purposely light. Neither of them brought up the magazine article or the awkward dinner, and Darwin felt at peace with that.
Henley, however, wasn’t pleased at all. He picked Darwin up after work Friday evening, as per usual. Darwin sat in the back and pulled from his briefcase some files Kent had passed along. Darwin studied Kent’s proposal and had to admit his brother’s whole plan was truly ingenious. The company that owned the product marketed it as a garbage disposal, but Kent’s team had turned it into a composting waste recycle center. With a few technically minor modifications, Kent could create something that would help rid cities of millions of tons of garbage each year, turning it into rich topsoil.
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