Page 99 of Blindly Yours

She takes it in both of hers, which are wrinkled and aged, but so warm and gentle.

“This is Helene,” Rose says. “She’s been my parents’ housekeeper since I was little.”

“It’s great to meet you, Helene.”

She slides over to Rose and gives her a quick hug. “How was your trip, sweetie?”

“Where’d you go, Rose?” A man with messily tousled dark hair, who looks a little familiar, steps out onto the terrace and grabs a piece of bruschetta from the tray.

“I spent the weekend at Nate’s place up on the lake.” She leans into me. “Nate, this is my brother, Henry.”

Cynthia is pouring the wine already. “Which lake?”

“Mille Lacs,” I reply as I shake Henry's hand.

“Oh!” She pauses to clasp her hands together. “It’s so beautiful up there. My brother has a place on three acres. Absolutely panoramic views of the water.”

I take a breath. “I really enjoy the seclusion.”

She nods. “Always great to get away from the city.”

Henry sits down, leans back, and crosses his arms, studying me. “How’d the two of you meet?”

“Online,” Rose responds before I have the chance to say we met in their building when the pipe burst. I actually can’t remember which came first.

“Seems like that’s the new thing these days,” he sighs, taking a swig of wine.

Rose tuts as Helene slips back out of the room. “Online dating has been around for like, at least ten years, Henry.”

He shrugs. “Call me traditional, I guess. I’d never do it. But I’m really happy it seems to have worked for the two of you.”

“Nate, have some bruschetta.” Cynthia points toward the tray. “Helene’s recipe is like no other.”

I smile as I take a piece. “So, tell me, what makes the ninety-two so special? Rose told me it was your favorite, but I’ll be honest, my wine knowledge is lacking.”

She picks up the bottle and turns it around happily in her hands. “The weather that year in Bordeaux was justperfect. Des and I were there on our honeymoon.” She smiles softly at him. “The grapes were the sweetest I’ve ever tasted. We bought a bottle and drank it as we watched the sun set over the vineyard.” She peers over the railing at the sun that’s starting to hang low in tonight’s sky. “Now we always try to pick up a ninety-two whenever we can.”

Desmond returns her sentiment and nods. “It was a fantastic trip.” He closes his eyes. “I still miss that Bugatti…”

“Weaving through all those quaint little city streets. Dining on crepes and lemon tarts…” Cynthia sighs.

“You know,” Desmond says, opening his eyes and pulling out his phone, “I saw one listed in Chicago just yesterday. Looks just like the one we drove. Thinking of maybe trading in the Aston finally. Never really liked it to begin with.”

Over his shoulder, someone else walks out, and I immediately recognize it as Rose’s other brother, George. The one who’s set to become CEO. He stands taller than Henry and combs his hair neatly back.

“Not the McLaren, Dad?” He eyes me carefully as he sits down, recognition sweeping across his face.

“Blasphemy!” Desmond shakes his head with a laugh. “You’ll have to pry those keys out of my cold, dead hands.”

George nods in my direction. “Nate.”

I smile. “Good to see you, George.”

“Oh, you’ve met?” Cynthia sits forward.

Rose tenses and George’s gaze flicks to hers and narrows briefly before he looks at his mother again. “Rose introduced us last week.”

It isn’t the truth, and I furrow my brow slightly. Has she asked him to keep my identity a secret? He knows I work on the building. He was there when the ceiling leaked, and again when the thermostat broke.

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