Sunrise Kisses (The Kisses 8)

The house in front of us was huge. No, I corrected myself, house isn't the right word. Mansion is closer. Even the word mansion still felt too small for the building in front of us. The entrance was immense and imposing with clean lines and a modern feel. Glass and soft white stone gleamed in the setting sun, promising a wealth of treasure past the huge wooden doors.

Huge seemed to be the word of the day. The private jet here had been huge. The limo to the house had been huge. Now the house was huge. Everything, including our commission and the boost to our business this job was going to give us, was huge. It would be the thing that would finally let Dad retire and leave the company in my hands.

Dad dropped his hand from his shoulder and knocked confidently on the large wooden doors. He was a big man, but his assured knock still sounded quiet against the might of the doors. I was sure that our driver was going to let us in, but my father was always one to take charge. It was something that had served him well over the years.

“Dad, come here,” I hissed, hurrying over to him and straightening his collar. “We're supposed to look professional.”

“Says the woman in shorts,” Dad retorted, pulling away.

“They're dress shorts,” I explained. “They are meant to be worn with a suit jacket, just like this. I look good.”

Dad paused. He knew this was a sore subject for me. It had been for the past two months. I had to look my best. I didn't know if it was

just because I was trying to convince myself that I actually was the best, or if it was just a way to hide my flaws. To me, looking good meant that I could take on the world and hopefully not look like I had been cheated on.

“You look great,” Dad conceded. He smiled, his green eyes kind. “You always make our business look good.”

And we needed this to the business to look good. The past few months had been rough. Like, thinking of selling the business kind of rough. I shook my head as he lowered his hand from knocking. Thank God he hadn't sold. Chad was the one interested in buying.

The door opened on silent hinges to unveil the biggest man I had ever seen. Huge, was again, the word of the day. I could of swore I heard the giant growl as he looked us over. I swallowed hard.

“Oh, good!” a female voice chirped as a pretty head peeked out from behind the massive doorman. She pushed him gently to the side, treating him like an overgrown puppy rather than the hulking beast he was. “You must be the Fairchilds. Please, come in.”

The big man moved to hold the door open, letting us pass. I smiled up at him as we passed, but he kept a stern face. He was not a man to be messed with.

If I thought the outside of the mansion had looked grand and imposing, the entryway made it look dull. The room was more ballroom than entrance, with sprawling black and white tiles and two staircases that descended to meet at the bottom across from the door. The upstairs was open to look down on the main room, increasing the feeling of size. Everything about it screamed opulence and wealth.

Standing in the center of the room, looking tiny and young, was a well dressed brunette in a pencil skirt with a charming smile.

“Hi, I'm Charlotte, Mr. Belrose's personal assistant,” she greeted us, and motioned to the big man still standing guard by the door. “This here, is Elijah, Mr. Belrose's private security.”

“Please let me know if you see anything strange, no matter how small,” the big man said. His voice was as deep as he was huge. He reminded me of a lion. With a polite nod to all of us, he promptly turned and disappeared into vast recesses of the house. It was almost unnerving how easily and quietly he disappeared, even with my eyes never leaving him. It spoke to his effectiveness and thus to the importance of Mr. Belrose. Who knew a dating website could make so much money?

“You can leave your bags here,” Charlotte informed us with a smile. My father was trying to pull both our suitcases across the tiled floor and making a racket with the wheels. “Marcus will take them up to your rooms.”

Marcus, our limo driver, came in behind us and held out his hands for the suitcases. Dad reluctantly gave them up, but only after Marcus cleared his throat. Despite his effort to carry the bags, Dad looked worn out and ragged from traveling.

“Mr. Belrose will be down after his meeting, but I'd be happy to show you to your rooms if you'd like,” Charlotte offered. “I'm sure it must have been a long trip.”

“Does Mr. Belrose usually work here?” I asked, looking around at the incredibly expensive room. I hadn't even met the man yet, but I had to wonder at his style. He must be obsessed with his own wealth. “I mean, does he run the dating website from here? I thought it was based in New York.”

“He runs the logistics side of Kindling Romance, not the actual dating service,” Charlotte explained. She crossed the black and white tiled floors to stand next to the massive landing at the bottom of the two stairs. “He usually does work out of New York, but this auction is incredibly important to him, so he is telecommuting until its completion.”

Telecommuting? I looked down at my phone. I had it turned to airplane mode with wifi still active since we were now considered to be roaming. Super roaming. I didn't even want to contemplate what my phone bill would be if I left my data running for this trip. If Mr. Belrose was telecommuting, I could only imagine what his bill must look like. It was a good thing he was a billionaire.

“I'd actually love to go to my room for a bit,” Dad said, finally answering Charlotte's question. I noticed his collar was crooked again. His big body sagged on his frame as he looked around, looking like he might just curl up on the stairs and take a nap. “Traveling always seems to wear me out.”

Charlotte smiled and motioned us up the right hand side of stairs. “Your rooms are adjacent to one another and are on the second floor. If you'll follow me, please.”

“I'm going to need a map of the house when you get a moment.” Dad paused at the middle step, looking winded. It was a big staircase.

“I actually have some printed up. You wouldn't believe how many times I've gotten lost in this place.” Charlotte answered with a grin. “You'll get used to it.”

I shook my head, wondering just what kind of person would buy a house so big that they needed a map to get around. Add in all the opulence and wealth of all the furnishings, and it made me think that perhaps Mr. Belrose was a little too wrapped up with showing off his status.

“Before I forget,” Charlotte said, pausing in the middle of the hallway. I nearly plowed into her. She pointed to a large double door on the opposite side of the grand staircase. “During your time here, Mr. Belrose will be working. The study is his office and bedroom, and he does not want anyone but himself in there. It's off limits to everyone.”

“Is there anything that needs to be appraised in there?” Dad asked.