Page 17 of The Complication
7
PARKER CAIN
Declan’s house was…big.
Like enormous.
I’d known the guy had money, but it was a lot of fucking money if his house was anything to go by.
It was a modern affair with very neat, clean lines. Everything was symmetrical and tidy, which I would have expected of him. If I’d learned anything about Declan in the past year, it was that he was all about order and routine. Everything had a time and a place, and we could never deviate from that.
Of course, I took a lot of joy in messing with his order and control when we were together in bed.
But I was stepping into his world out of desperate need, and it was only right that I abide by his rules.
My gaze skimmed over the neatly manicured lawn and the shrubs that were all trimmed into perfect shapes with nary a leaf out of order.
Surprisingly, I didn’t find it stifling, but it called out to my artist’s soul like a giant blank canvas begging to be filled with colors and chaos. That probably wasn’t what had been in Declan’s mind. It was also a good thing Joy wasn’t mobile yet. I could keep her brand of chaos confined to a small area whilewe were staying with him. With any luck, it would just be for a day or two.
Declan parked the car at the foot of the wide half-dozen stairs leading up to the double front doors. The windows in the pale-gray house were long rectangles, appearing to run from the floor to the ceiling.
“Does anyone else live here with you?” I asked as I unbuckled my seat belt.
Declan turned off the engine. “There’s also a cook and a housekeeper-assistant, but they live in the eastern-most rooms close to the kitchen. You won’t see them much.”
“Oh. Um…Joy and I will try not to make more work for them.”
“It will be fine,” Declan murmured as we got out of the car.
I walked to the other side and worked on getting Joy’s seat out of the car while Declan moved to the trunk to grab our bags. The hatch was dropping as a man rushed out and down the stairs wearing dark slacks and a collared, long-sleeved shirt.
“Forgive me, sir. Allow me to assist you,” he said in a low voice. His eyes seemed to give the barest sweep over Joy and me before focusing on Declan.
To my shock, Declandodgedthe man, his fists tightening on the bags as if he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else touching them. “No, it’s fine. I have them. Franks, this is Parker Cain and his daughter, Joy. They will be living here for the foreseeable future. Your number one priority is seeing to their comfort and needs.”
Franks stiffened for a breath. It was almost like seeing a computer lock up as it attempted to parse some problematic code. But in the next breath, he had accepted the information and incorporated it into his programming.
“Welcome, Mr. Cain. Please don’t hesitate to reach out tome for anything you or Miss Cain might require,” he greeted with a tiny bow of his head.
“Thanks, but don’t worry about me and Joy. We won’t be staying long, and we won’t create any extra work for you.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
“Franks, please park the car in the garage,” Declan cut in, stopping our attempts to out-polite each other. “In a little while, I want you to accompany me to pick up Parker’s car.”
I opened my mouth to argue with him, but in the end, I closed it without saying a word. In truth, I didn’t want to go back to the apartment to get my car because it would mean dragging Joy out as well. If Declan and Franks went, it meant Joy could take a much-needed afternoon nap while I tried to sift through the remaining scraps of my life.
“Of course, sir.”
“I’ll be putting Parker and Joy in the first guest bedroom.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll alert Chef Donovan that there will be another person for dinner this evening.”
“Thank you,” Declan murmured and gave me a nudge to get me moving toward the front door with him.
Franks must have been the person Declan had referred to as the housekeeper, but I had a feeling that he was more of Declan’s personal assistant, keeping up with the house, his clothes, cars, and his other personal needs. He didn’t need to deal with Joy and me as well.
Blessed coolness washed over us as we stepped into the house. Soft classical music drifted from hidden speakers, just barely breaking the overwhelming silence. But more than the quiet, the white walls took me aback. As I followed Declan through the large two-story house filled with large windows to let in the bright sunlight, everywhere I looked were white walls and dark wood floors. Almost no color broke up the monochromatic decor. The furnishings were simple and very expensive in appearance, but sparse. There were no knickknacks orfamily photos—a couple of landscape paintings and that was it.
