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"Just don't give us any special treatment while we're working at your company. We both agreed that we're going to handle the corporate world as best we can without too much of your help."
"Okay, Hayley." He nodded. "I understand."
"Do you, really?"
"Not at all." He laughed. "You sound as ridiculous as the future Mrs. Statham right now. Do you know she made me spend three hours looking over different types of paper for wedding invitations?"
"Really? Did you choose a paper with a glossy finish or a matte look?"
He gave me a blank stare, and then we both laughed.
The town car continued moving through the city, and we filled the time discussing his upcoming wedding.
As we left the city limits and approached a remote area, I pulled out my phone and snapped pictures of white tipped waves crashing against a sun-burned coast. The beautiful homes that dotted the jagged hills were the perfect scenic backdrop for a new start. Then again, the loud sound of seagulls screeching for miles made me wonder if I’d ever be able to truly enjoy the view.
"You'll learn to tune them out eventually," Jonathan said as the car began to slow. "It usually takes two weeks at most."
"I hope so."
"We've arrived, Mr. Statham." The driver stopped the car, and I looked out the window, feeling my jaw drop lower and lower with every second that passed.
The house in front of me was more beautiful than anything I could've imagined. Painted light blue with crisp white shutters, it was three stories tall and perched right on the beach. Bright purple balloons clung to the verandah’s beautiful wood railing, and a “Welcome to Your New Home, Hayley!” sign hung from a white brick mailbox.
The driver stepped out of the car and opened the trunk, but I remained glued to my seat. I was still in awe.
“Are you okay, Hayley?” Jonathan asked, getting out of the car.
“How much did you spend on this house?” The words rushed out of my mouth. “Like, how much is the rent and will I be able to afford it with the salary I’m getting?”
He laughed. "There is no rent. I bought it, and it's yours. You can do whatever you want with your salary."
“The whole house is mine?”
“I didn’t stutter. You should come inside with us now.”
The front door to the house swung open, and his fiancée Claire stepped outside, waving at me from the doorway and smiling. Surprised, I got out of the car and hugged Jonathan tighter than I ever had.
"Thank you so much," I said, still in disbelief.
“I’m still going to demand more answers from you.” He hugged me back, laughing. “A rare, extended hug from you won’t make me forget.”
“I know.” I let go of him, and he led me into the house.
“It’s good to see you, Hayley.” Claire hugged me as I stepped inside. “I hope you’ll love living here as much as we do.”
"I hope so, too." I glanced at her and my brother. She was a drop dead gorgeous redhead, and she was supposedly eleven years older than him. (I still refused to believe that.) She looked thirty—at most, and I knew from experience that whenever the two of them were in the same room, everything else around them ceased to exist.
Rolling my eyes as they kissed, I made a mental note to make sure she was around whenever Jonathan sat me down for more questioning.
I stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows and pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming as I took in the stunning view. The ocean was a stone’s throw away from my backyard’s dock, and there was a small white boat swaying against the waves.
This home was a far cry from the double-wide trailer I'd once grown up in, and a stark contrast to the awful basements my foster families kept me in when my parents were first sentenced to prison. It was even better than the first condo Jonathan bought for himself when he started his company in Cambridge. When he made me spend the rest of my high school years with him.
“Every room is fully furnished, and I handled your first round of grocery shopping for you,” Jonathan said, interrupting my thoughts. “Have you talked to dad recently?”
“No, his prison is on lockdown this week.” I shook my head. “You talk to your mother?”
"She's your mother, too."
