Page 56 of Quake
21
Juliette
Caleb pickedme up at six thirty on Saturday night?.????
The first two days of the expo had passed in a whirlwind, and I manned the Slattery Press booth, handing out flyers, giving advanced reader copies of our upcoming titles to journalists and book reviewers, exchanging pleasantries, and basically, being run off my feet. Jade was in and out of meetings, leaving Hayley and me alone most of the time. Other editors and department heads rotated through the space from time to time, but we were trusted to make sure things were running smoothly.
Still, dinner at the Carmichael’s loomed, my nervousness at meeting Caleb’s parents casting a shadow over the weekend. The whole thing meant I would miss the Gala Reception—the expo’s industry charity evening, which I had been lucky enough to be invited to—but I’d made a promise, and it was important I kept it.
I’d never been in Caleb’s car before, and I was surprised to see it was an everyday sedan—a Holden—and not something flashy. I got the impression he wasn’t hard done by at all, especially from his years of pro boxing, but the more I thought about it, the more it suited him. He wasn’t the kind of guy to throw around his money.
Then there was the fact he was wearing a suit—without the tie, but he was in asuit. The tight T-shirts and shorts were nowhere to be seen, and he looked…well, delicious.
“Look at you,” I said, sliding into the car. “Who are you, and what have you done with Caleb?”
He chuckled, his palm resting on my bare knee. “I could say the same about you, Jules. Nice dress.”
I glanced down at the black number I’d found at Target, the fabric embroidered with silver thread, creating a pattern of flowers and vines. It was completely mass-market, but it was from one of their designer collections. It’d cost me a hundred bucks, and I’d almost fainted as I swiped my bank card, but I looked good in it, and from the way Caleb was caressing the hem, he liked it, too.
“Thanks.”
His parents lived close to the city in Toorak, one of the oldest and richest suburbs in Melbourne. Million-dollar houses lined every street with greenery and expansive lawns donning each lot. It was easy to forget the concrete urban sprawl was just a few blocks over.
Finally, Caleb turned the car into a long driveway, the gates sweeping open as we approached.
“Welcome to the Carmichael compound,” he said, the distaste clear in his voice.
I stared up at the house in awe, completely dazzled by the show of wealth. The property had to be worth at least several million dollars. The castle-like house looked like something out of a movie. Two stories towered above us, the facade shining with lighting from the garden, and the trees in the front were wrapped tightly with fairy lights that shimmered between the leaves. Above it all, the brilliant sunset streaked across the sky, making the scene quite romantic. It could totally be a set for the new season ofThe Bachelor.
“All this belongs to your parents?” The car came to a standstill, but I was far from ready to get out.
“Five bedrooms, three bathrooms, sauna, twelve-seater cinema, private gym, outdoor pool, kitted out kitchen, a dining room the size of my apartment…” Caleb rattled off. “Why two people need all that space is beyond me. It did come in handy when I was growing up, though. Plenty of places to hide.”
“All this was from your dad’s boxing?” I asked.
“Dad was a big deal,” he explained. “He made millions from prize fighting in Las Vegas over the years. Now he part owns a worldwide betting agency. Making money off poor sods’ gambling addictions.”
“I can’t imagine that much money.”
“If we sit here for long enough, maybe they’ll forget we were coming,” he muttered.
“We have to go in sooner or later,” I said. “The sooner we’re in, the sooner we’re out, right?” Unclipping my seatbelt, I slid from the car. Caleb was at my side in a flash, guiding me to the front door.
“Before we go in, we need to talk about exit strategies,” he said as we lingered on the stoop.
I shuddered. “Exit strategies? Is it going to be that bad?”
“Don’t worry,” he said, cupping my cheek. “I couldn’t care less what they think. I know what I want, Jules, and it’s you. Don’t sweat it.”
I smiled thinly, not entirely convinced.
Dropping his hand, he pressed the button on the side of the doorframe, and an electronic bell sounded from within the house.
“Now, the quickest route is the front door, but it’s open and snipers man the staircase. The second option is through the kitchen…”
It didn’t take long for someone to fling open the door. A woman stared at us—she was about sixty, or so I thought—and smiled widely when she saw Caleb. I gathered this was his mom.
“Darling,” she cooed, completely ignoring me and going straight for Caleb. “Come in. I trust you’re feeling better.”
