The intercom buzzes as I’m caramelizing the sugar with a kitchen blowtorch over the crème brûlée. Oscar, who now lives with us—as does Bruno—jumps from the priceless silver bowl on the coffee table.
“I’ll get it,” Rhett calls from the gym.
Rhett and Quincy reside with us in the staff quarters meant for the maids. Each has an independent studio with a kitchenette and bathroom. Gabriel insists that one of them stays with me when he isn’t home. The guards stationed at our gate aren’t live-in. They work on a shift basis. The living arrangements with Quincy and Rhett worked out well, since I don’t want a live-in maid and prefer to take care of the cooking myself, maybe because of the memories that role evokes. Due to the size of the house, we were forced to hire a cleaning service that comes in twice a week. The rest I can handle between working at Kris’ clinic and completing a mini MBA to help me master business management. The household, work, Charlie, and studies keep me busy, but I’ve never been an idle person, and I like to feel useful.
“Here’s your guest,” Rhett says, holding the door for Kris.
“Thanks, Rhett. Dinner is almost ready. Would you like to join us?”
“Yeah.” His smile is enthusiastic. Rhett loves home cooking. “Let me grab a quick shower.”
Going over to Kris, I give her a hug. “How was the traffic?”
“Not too bad.” She looks up at the double volume entrance, turns in a circle, and whistles through her teeth. “Wow.”
“Do you like it?”
“Too modern for my taste, but it’s … wow.”
“Charlie, come say hi,” I call into the cinema room. “Kris is here.”
Charlie bounces through the door and takes her in a bear hug as if he hasn’t said goodbye to her at the practice only three hours ago.
Kris sniffs the air. “Smells like Beef Stroganoff.”
“Good olfactory skills. Wine or beer?”
“Beer.”
“In the fridge. Help yourself.”
Kris grabs a can and looks around while I set the food on the table.
“There are an awful lot of glass doors and windows.”
“I love the light.”
“What about security? I don’t see burglar bars.”
“Each door and window is fitted with a bulletproof metal shutter. No metal cutter can get through the steel. In case of an emergency, we can bring them down in seconds with the push of a button. We have a control panel in the kitchen and upstairs in our room.”
“You don’t fool around.”
“You know Gabriel.”
“Yeah, this sounds like him. That man is crazily protective over you. I don’t want to see how he’s going to be when the baby is born.”
Rhett enters the kitchen, his hair wet. “Is that Stroganoff I’m smelling?”
“Spot on,” Kris says.
He rubs his hands together. “Shall we eat before it gets cold?”
Kris chuckles. “Hungry?”
I dish up, and Charlie serves the water. Rhett doesn’t drink when he’s on duty.
“Val tells me she can shoot a bullseye. Is it true?” Kris asks Rhett.
He gives me a chastising look. “You’re not supposed to advertise it.”
“I only told my best friend.” I grin. “I was proud.”
I’ll have to pick up the self-defense training after the birth, but I convinced Rhett to take me to the shooting range when Gabriel stays out late for business.
“My lips are sealed,” Kris says, “and I think it’s a good thing that Val knows how to defend herself.”
Rhett gives Kris a half-smile. His ass will be on the line if Gabriel finds out.
“How’s Charlie’s sessions going?” Kris asks, thankfully changing the subject.
“Good.” I pat Charlie’s hand. “Christopher says he’s making progress. Aren’t you?”
“Pro–progress.”
Kris raises her beer. “To Charlie’s progress and the best practice manager in the world, who can now also shoot like a pro.”
Our laughter is interrupted by Rhett’s phone.
“Excuse me.” He looks at the screen. “It’s Quincy. I have to take the call.”
He leaves the table and walks to the far corner of the lounge, but the acoustics of the open space carry his words to us.
“What?” He pauses to listen. “Okay. Sure. No worries. I’ll tell her.”
My armpits zing with pinpricks of foreboding. “Is Gabriel all right?”
He walks back to the table, his expression troubled. “It’s Carly. She’s been arrested for possession of drugs. Gabriel is at the police station. He’ll be home later than planned.”
Kris covers her mouth with a hand. Only Charlie eats without a care in the world. My appetite for food is gone. All I want is to be with Gabriel.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Rhett says. “We may as well enjoy our meal.”
By the time Kris leaves, there’s still no new news from Quincy or Gabriel. Rhett goes to bed, and I watch a movie with Charlie to distract myself, but I can’t concentrate on anything. Finally, there’s nothing left to do but ship Charlie off to bed and wait. I shower and change into a nightdress before making myself comfortable on the sofa in the lounge with a book. My gaze keeps on flickering to the door, watching for Gabriel’s headlights at the gate.