Chapter Two

I took a deep breath in, closing my eyes and taking it all in. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long palm-tree shaped shadows on the white sand walkway. Humid, warm air filled my lungs and it was like breathing in pure happiness. A trip to the Caribbean was exactly the thing I needed, even if it was a work trip. The sky was still blue, but the clouds were starting to bronze and crisp with color on the edges. The trees danced on a gentle breeze carrying the smell of ocean salt. I felt warm for the first time in weeks and like things were actually going my way.

That isn't to say I wasn't nervous. My palms were sweating and I was glad I had put on an extra swipe of deodorant before getting off the plane, but it was a good kind of stress. The kind that led to good things happening instead of feeling like I was constantly having to play catch-up.

I glanced over at my Dad, noticing he was just as anxious as I was. He rubbed at his shoulder, and despite the grin on his face, I could still see the tension in his jaw. I grinned back, knowing that my expression mirrored his.

The house in front of us was huge. No, I corrected myself, house isn't the right word. Mansion is closer.

Even the word mansion still felt too small for the building in front of us. The entrance was immense and imposing with clean lines and a modern feel. Glass and soft white stone gleamed in the setting sun, promising a wealth of treasure past the huge wooden doors.

Huge seemed to be the word of the day. The private jet here had been huge. The limo to the house had been huge. Now the house was huge. Everything, including our commission and the boost to our business this job was going to give us, was huge. It would be the thing that would finally let Dad retire and leave the company in my hands.

Dad dropped his hand from his shoulder and knocked confidently on the large wooden doors. He was a big man, but his assured knock still sounded quiet against the might of the doors. I was sure that our driver was going to let us in, but my father was always one to take charge. It was something that had served him well over the years.

“Dad, come here,” I hissed, hurrying over to him and straightening his collar. “We're supposed to look professional.”

“Says the woman in shorts,” Dad retorted, pulling away.

“They're dress shorts,” I explained. “They are meant to be worn with a suit jacket, just like this. I look good.”

Dad paused. He knew this was a sore subject for me. It had been for the past two months. I had to look my best. I didn't know if it was just because I was trying to convince myself that I actually was the best, or if it was just a way to hide my flaws. To me, looking good meant that I could take on the world and hopefully not look like I had been cheated on.

“You look great,” Dad conceded. He smiled, his green eyes kind. “You always make our business look good.”

And we needed this to the business to look good. The past few months had been rough. Like, thinking of selling the business kind of rough. I shook my head as he lowered his hand from knocking. Thank God he hadn't sold. Chad was the one interested in buying.

The door opened on silent hinges to unveil the biggest man I had ever seen. Huge, was again, the word of the day. I could of swore I heard the giant growl as he looked us over. I swallowed hard.

“Oh, good!” a female voice chirped as a pretty head peeked out from behind the massive doorman. She pushed him gently to the side, treating him like an overgrown puppy rather than the hulking beast he was. “You must be the Fairchilds. Please, come in.”

The big man moved to hold the door open, letting us pass. I smiled up at him as we passed, but he kept a stern face. He was not a man to be messed with.

If I thought the outside of the mansion had looked grand and imposing, the entryway made it look dull. The room was more ballroom than entrance, with sprawling black and white tiles and two staircases that descended to meet at the bottom across from the door. The upstairs was open to look down on the main room, increasing the feeling of size. Everything about it screamed opulence and wealth.

Standing in the center of the room, looking tiny and young, was a well dressed brunette in a pencil skirt with a charming smile.

“Hi, I'm Charlotte, Mr. Belrose's personal assistant,” she greeted us, and motioned to the big man still standing guard by the door. “This here, is Elijah, Mr. Belrose's private security.”

“Please let me know if you see anything strange, no matter how small,” the big man said. His voice was as deep as he was huge. He reminded me of a lion. With a polite nod to all of us, he promptly turned and disappeared into vast recesses of the house. It was almost unnerving how easily and quietly he disappeared, even with my eyes never leaving him. It spoke to his effectiveness and thus to the importance of Mr. Belrose. Who knew a dating website could make so much money?

“You can leave your bags here,” Charlotte informed us with a smile. My father was trying to pull both our suitcases across the tiled floor and making a racket with the wheels. “Marcus will take them up to your rooms.”

Marcus, our limo driver, came in behind us and held out his hands for the suitcases. Dad reluctantly gave them up, but only after Marcus cleared his throat. Despite his effort to carry the bags, Dad looked worn out and ragged from traveling.

“Mr. Belrose will be down after his meeting, but I'd be happy to show you to your rooms if you'd like,” Charlotte offered. “I'm sure it must have been a long trip.”

“Does Mr. Belrose usually work here?” I asked, looking around at the incredibly expensive room. I hadn't even met the man yet, but I had to wonder at his style. He must be obsessed with his own wealth. “I mean, does he run the dating website from here? I thought it was based in New York.”

“He runs the logistics side of Kindling Romance, not the actual dating service,” Charlotte explained. She crossed the black and white tiled floors to stand next to the massive landing at the bottom of the two stairs. “He usually does work out of New York, but this auction is incredibly important to him, so he is telecommuting until its completion.”

Telecommuting? I looked down at my phone. I had it turned to airplane mode with wifi still active since we were now considered to be roaming. Super roaming. I didn't even want to contemplate what my phone bill would be if I left my data running for this trip. If Mr. Belrose was telecommuting, I could only imagine what his bill must look like. It was a good thing he was a billionaire.

“I'd actually love to go to my room for a bit,” Dad said, finally answering Charlotte's question. I noticed his collar was crooked again. His big body sagged on his frame as he looked around, looking like he might just curl up on the stairs and take a nap. “Traveling always seems to wear me out.”

Charlotte smiled and motioned us up the right hand side of stairs. “Your rooms are adjacent to one another and are on the second floor. If you'll follow me, please.”

“I'm going to need a map of the house when you get a moment.” Dad paused at the middle step, looking winded. It was a big staircase.

“I actually have some printed up. You wouldn't believe how many times I've gotten lost in this place.” Charlotte answered with a grin. “You'll get used to it.”

I shook my head, wondering just what kind of person would buy a house so big that they needed a map to get around. Add in all the opulence and wealth of all the furnishings, and it made me think that perhaps Mr. Belrose was a little too wrapped up with showing off his status.

“Before I forget,” Charlotte said, pausing in the middle of the hallway. I nearly plowed into her. She pointed to a large double door on the opposite side of the grand staircase. “During your time here, Mr. Belrose will be working. The study is his office and bedroom, and he does not want anyone but himself in there. It's off limits to everyone.”

“Is there anything that needs to be appraised in there?” Dad asked.

“A few things,” she replied, “but Mr. Belrose will have you appraise those at his convenience. Until then, he requests that neither of you enter his study without permission.”

“Of course,” Dad assured her, nodding vehemently. I knew he wouldn't even look at the door to Mr. Belrose's study, his honor and integrity permitting him to do nothing less. It was one of the things I loved most about my dad. Me, on the other hand, I would probably try and peek in if I ever saw the door open. Making things off limits tended to make me curious, but I wouldn't want two random strangers poking through my bedroom without permission either.

Charlotte nodded, glad to see we understood and motioned us after her into another part of the monstrous house. The sunlight from the setting sun turned the room into a golden paradise as we worked our way down the hallways to our rooms. Every wall contained artwork and furniture that had my father and I drooling. In just the walk to our rooms, I already had a rough estimate of hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of antiques. This was going to be a massive job.

“Here are your rooms,” Charlotte announced. They were side by side with one at the end of the hallway. “I thought Mr. Fairchild would like this one, as the furniture is all authentic Alexander Roux pieces.”

Dad's eyes lit up. He nearly bowled Charlotte over to get into the room. I giggled. He reminded me of a kid on Christmas morning.

“I think you just made his trip,” I told her. She grinned with childlike pride.

“I'm just glad they had certificates on them, or I never would have known,” she confided, then gestured to my room. “I'm afraid your room isn't anything special. I know your specialty is impressionist art, but most of the pieces aren't in any of the guest rooms...”

“This is perfect,” I interrupted, stepping into the room. It was large, with a gaudy bed and overzealous artwork, but the real treasure was the big window overlooking the ocean. We were on the East side of the island, so I would be able to see the sunrise in the morning. “Thank you, Charlotte.”

Her face split into a grin. I liked her. She had obviously taken the time to choose rooms for us based on what she knew about us. It was sweet.

“I'm so glad that the rooms are acceptable to you both,” she said, slipping back into a more formal tone. “Dinner will be in half an hour in the kitchen.”

“Thank you, again,” I replied. I hoped I could get her out of her shell a little bit while we were here. She seemed like she could be fun if she wasn't working. “What are we having.”

“Just some soup and finger foods,” she answered. “Is that all right, Miss Fairchild?”

“That's perfect.” I smiled. “And please, call me Ava. Miss makes me feel strange.”

“I've never really liked it either,” Charlotte admitted. We grinned at one another for a moment, feeling like we might be long lost friends after all. “I'll let you settle in.”

I went to the window as she turned to leave and looked out, taking a deep, happy breath. The mansion backed out onto a small cove. The sand was perfect and white and the waves small and calm. The sky was turning a deep shade of purple as the sun set on the opposite side of the island, causing the deep blue of the water to fade with the sky as it approached the horizon. It was absolutely stunning.

That, I thought to myself, not the house, is what makes this a billionaire's place.

I was just glad that Mr. Belrose didn't know that, or I would be out of a job.