Page 18 of Searching for Hope

His head tilts to the side. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it.”

Jericho doesn’t say anything. His head shifts and he looks out the window as we pull up to some impressive gates. They are nothing like the gates to the Sanctuary. These ones are modern and slatted. Shiny and polished.

“Can I make a suggestion?” I say as the gates move to let us in. “People like this, well they require more groveling than the people you may be used to. You need to feed their ego in order to get them to accept you. Walking in with, well, with whatever it is that you have going on, might not be in our best interests.”

The corner of Jericho’s mouth twitches. “Are you implying I don’t know how to be charming?”

I batter my lashes and give him a demure smile. “I’m not implying it at all. I’m saying it outright.”

Jericho chuckles. “Did you hear that, Barrett? She doesn’t think I’m charming.”

Barrett’s eyes slide to mine in the rear vision mirror. “I can assure you, Miss Berkley, he’s very charming.”

“I’m a little concerned you think so, Barrett.” I wink and flash him a smile.

We pull into a circular driveway with a wide expanse of steps leading to the entrance of the house. Michael and his parents are already waiting, resplendent in pastel, plastic smiles in place.

Their faces bring back waves of emotion. I stare through the tinted window as the car slows to a stop, looking at these people with fresh eyes. They were everything I used to want to be. Everything I aspired to. It’s strange to look at them now, knowing the things that I know. I no longer feel admiration. I feel disgust.

Barrett opens my door and I take a deep breath. Jericho’s hand rests on my shoulder. A nervous flutter of nausea twists in my gut. Closing my eyes, I silently count to five.

“You okay?” he asks. “You still want to do this?”

“Can’t very well back out now, can I?” I say it with a carefree tone, but I feel anything but carefree.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I’ll instruct Barrett to drive us away.”

“Nice of you to say although a little hypocritical, no?” I shoot him a saccharine smile over my shoulder as I slide out of the car.

“Everly! My girl!” Mr Gorman opens his arms but doesn’t move.

I do what I’m expected to do and rush over and wrap myself in his embrace even though he’s never greeted me in this manner before. His arms enclose around me and he pats me on the back, one hand suspiciously low. I can almost hear Jericho’s growl as he gets out of the car.

I move to Mrs Gorman next, air-kissing each of her cheeks while politely holding each other’s shoulders and exclaiming how wonderful the other one looks. I’m told I’ve grown into a lovely young woman. Mr Gorman is asked to confirm the fact, which he does heartily. Michael stands beaming at their side, his appearance more casual in white pants and a light blue sweater almost the exact same shade as my dress. He throws his arm around my shoulder as soon as his mother releases me, and I stand as part of the family as Jericho makes his approach.

Instead of his usual frown, there’s a smile on his face. The flutter in my stomach turns to a different sort. I’ve never seen this smile on him before. It’s crooked, cocked a little to the left. It has this confidence about it, this swagger, as though he knows exactly just how it transforms him. He’s shrugging into his jacket as he walks, doing up the middle button, sunglasses tucked in the chest pocket, before extending his hand to Mr Gorman as he quickly skips up the steps.

“Please to meet you. I’m Jericho Priest,” he says with roguish charm.

I almost snort. He shakes Mr Gorman’s hand before moving to Mrs Gorman, kissing her hand, and throwing her a wink. She laughs as though she finds him endearing.

When he turns to Michael, all he does is nod his head and say his name. Michael returns the gesture with his arm still wrapped possessively over my shoulder. Jericho’s gaze darts to it for a moment, but he doesn’t let his façade slip.

We’re ushered inside, taken on a tour of the expansive house, and then provided drinks on the patio next to the open fire and the pool. Even though the property is in the middle of the city, the manicured lawns seem to go on forever. We’re fed an impressive array of Hors d'oeuvres, most of which Jericho passes on but I eat with a gusto I didn’t know existed. I blame it on the hangover that’s just starting to rear its head.

When Mr Gorman and Jericho are deep in conversation, Michael takes my hand and pulls me away from the group. We wander through the house until he flops down on a leather sofa and pats the space beside him.

“My father was rather surprised by your request,” he says.

“I’m sure he was. It took a while for me to get my head around everything. It all happened so suddenly.” I toy with the hem of my dress. “I guess—” I sigh and look up at him. “I just need some help, I guess.” Playing the damsel in distress had always worked on Michael.

He shifts closer, his thigh pressing against mine. “Dad looked into your friend there, Mr Priest. It seems he has few financial issues at the moment.”

“He does?”

At first the news surprises me. But then I think of the unfinished state of the Sanctuary, the limited number of staff and it begins to make sense.

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