Page 37 of Safer Alone
“Oh good,” he spoke, with slight relief evident in his voice. I did notice though that his face was no longer expressionless, instead it was calming. He seems to be happy with my answer.
With this subject now on the table, I asked the question that has been burning inside me since he took that phone call the other night at dinner. Why not get this out in the open? “Is the lady who looked at the cottage for you your girlfriend?” I asked.
The skin around his eyes crinkled ever so slightly and a small smile appeared on his lips. “No, Kat is my assistant. She is also married to one of my best friends. I don’t have a girlfriend, Angela.” I release a breath I don’t realize I have been holding. That is good news indeed. “Do you have a boyfriend?” I notice that he is looking at me from the corner of his eye. Not willing to look at my face directly.
“Nope, I’m single…now. Have been for going on four years now.” This caught his attention. He turns to face me now, giving my hand a comforting squeeze. He also slips his fingers through mine and brings my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles twice.
“Maybe we might be off the market by the end of this weekend?” I couldn’t help but also hear the almost questioning tone in that statement, or maybe I was hearing what I wanted to. He had to be referring to us, didn’t he? Then the self-doubt sets in. He couldn’t mean me. He surely could have any woman he wanted: models, film stars, celebrities. He probably already has had them before I came along. I’m not going to get my hopes up. I decide it is best to leave his statement unanswered.
The next twenty minutes we travel in silence, and those minutes pass quite quickly, we are out of the main area of New York, passing through the outskirts of the city, making our way to the outer suburbs. I look out the window when I noticed we are approaching a sign. As we get closer I am finally able to read the calligraphy ‘Welcome to Greenwich.’ Of course Elliot lived in one of the most exclusive and affluent suburbs outside of New York.
I don’t have much time to ponder that, though. I can see the lot sizes are now larger, as are the homes that were sitting on those parcels of land. Some of the homes look like hotels, large and spread out. Many of them have stone walls along the road.
We have a few large homes in Nashville, and like here in New York they are out in the suburbs. The people who can afford them are mainly country music superstars the likes of Keith Urban and his actress wife Nicole Kidman. Also Faith Hill and her husband Tim McGraw have a home there. Mind you, I have never seen them in the whole time I’ve called Nashville home, besides in concert, anyway.
We are slowing down now. I feel the car turn, as we enter a driveway. On either side of the drive stood two imposing brick pillars, an ornate gate joining the two together. As the car drove closer they begin opening. As we pass through the gate, I peer out through the front windshield. The lawns are beautifully manicured, as are the garden beds. An ancient oak tree provides shade on the left hand side of the drive, its branches the size of some of the other trees’ trunks, leaves aplenty, moving gently in the wind, casting dancing shadows on the ground beneath.
We drive slowly along the driveway. Up ahead I catch sight of two more brick pillars, identical to those we’ve just passed through; no gate was linking the two, instead they provided an opening, just large enough for a car to pass through on the way toward the house.
A six-foot brick wall hugs the outskirts of the home, giving a certain amount of privacy. Although calling it a home is an understatement. As we pass through the second pillars, the house comes into full view. There stands the most beautiful two-story home I have ever seen. It reminds me ever so slightly of a fairy-tale castle, one you expect a princess to appear from. It is red brick with timber window frames, all of which appear to be oversized. As my eyes take the sight in, moving upwards towards the sky I notice two chimneys rising from the tiled roof, one on either side.
The car slows to a complete stop just outside the front door. It is painted a gorgeous duck egg blue hue and is encased in a brick archway that protrudes a good two feet farther forward from the remainder of the home. Elliot squeezes my hand gently. I tear my attention away from his home to face him. His face wore an almost nervous expression, licking his lips once he speaks. “Welcome to my home, Angela.”
~ Chapter Eighteen ~
Once the car has come to a complete standstill, Elliot exits the car, walking around to open my own door for me. I accept the offer of his outstretched hand and step out of the vehicle. Looking around, I am still drinking in the sight of this beautiful, historic house in front of me. “It makes total sense now.”
“What does, Angela?”
Turning back to face him. “It’s no wonder you fell in love with the home back in Nashville,” I whisper focusing my complete attention of the beautiful blue of his eyes.
Continuing to hold my eye contact, Elliot smiles. “Just wait until you see the inside. Price, please bring our bags into the house.” He offers his hand to me and I place mine in his without even thinking and together we make our way a few steps across the paved driveway to the front door.
We are closing in on the entrance, and approximately two steps away from the front door when a mature man with white hair and a kind face answers the door. “Welcome home Mr. Sands.” He smiles warmly at us both “Miss White it is lovely to meet you. Welcome to Sands Manor.”
I can’t help but smile at him. “Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you too. You have me at a disadvantage though. It seems that Elliot has provided you with my name, however I don’t know yours.”
He nods politely. “You can call me Andrew, if you please, Miss White.”
I nod to show that I understood. “Okay then. Andrew it is.”
With introductions out of the way, I turn my attention back to my host. “So, what’s next?”
Smiling at my question he answers. “I was hoping you would let me give you the tour of my home, Angela.” Without waiting for my answer, Elliot pulls gently on my hand to indicate he meant for me to follow, so I did just that.
The tour begins on the ground level of the home, which turns out to also be the main living level. We walk into the main foyer area which showcases large square white marble tiles with a light grey vein running through them. They are laid diagonally with a small diamond shaped, dark grey tile set in between to create a stunning pattern. They continue the entire way up the grand staircase, protected by an ornate timber railing along the edging. White wainscoting features to the bottom half of the walls, met with wood cladding that has been whitewashed more recently. The cornice is a beautiful architectural feature. The ceilings are amazing with exposed beams, and in the center of the ceiling sits a large medallion with intricate sculptures of roses, leaves and angels. Hanging from the heart is a stunning antique crystal chandelier.
As we wander farther into the home, I find many more architectural items to look at. There were many rooms on this level. The main areas with the same marble flooring. Elliot shows me the bathroom which houses a large claw footed bath with a shower above, two pedestal vanities and a toilet. A comfortably furnished bedroom sits next to the bathroom. The laundry, although small, contains many cabinets and there is a games room, filled with old-school pinball machines and an antique slot machine along with a billiards table and a timber bar located in the corner. This is obviously where Elliot hangs out with his friends.
The kitchen is at the rear of the home and has been modernized to allow all modern, stainless steel appliances. A standalone six burner cooktop oven combination, glass canopy range hood, microwave and dishwasher. The cabinetry was a combination of white and grey shaker style cabinets with thick marble countertops.
The dining room is furnished with a large timber dining table with twelve matching chairs surrounding it. The living room contains two white oversized three-person sofas positioned in front of a wood burning fireplace. There are two large bay windows, with built in seating. Looking through them I have an uninterrupted view into the expansive backyard. On the rear wall a set of large French doors open up to a light-filled conservatory. The large floor tiles arre made of a substance similar to sandstone. Being in this room and looking out at the gardens, it wasn’t hard to imagine that I was in the English countryside, not thirty-five minutes out of New York.
Heading up to the second level of the home, I find it mainly consists of the guest bedrooms, four in total, all of which are double size with large windows and timber furniture. A guest bathroom, and Elliot’s study. Well-appointed with an oversized mahogany desk, complete with a very large Apple Mac computer and a framed photograph. I sneak a look and find it is of an older couple, his grandparents maybe. There is a well-stocked library attached; at first glance I have to estimate at least a couple of hundred books on the shelves.
The master bedroom is the last room Elliot shows me. This room is even larger than the other bedrooms. The wood wainscoting on the walls are painted white, a set of French doors lead to a private Juliette balcony, looking out on the driveway where we pulled up earlier. The windows are dressed in white sheer curtains that fall to the floor with grace.
The king-sized bed is a work of art on its own. A light weight canopy falls from the top, pulled back to reveal intricate carvings adorning each of the four posts, similar carvings to the medallion I noticed downstairs in the foyer, roses, angels and a stunning filigree pattern. I reach out and tentatively brush my fingers along the carvings that must be at least seventy years old.
