“Come on,” I say and we go to “my” door. I swipe my card and the door unlocks. I came here yesterday to make sure it was clean up to my standards and to put some food in the fridge and the pantry.

“Wow,” Saige says, coming in after me. “Yeah, this is definitely not what I thought of.” The best word to describe the place is sparse. Barely any furniture and what there is, is black and grey. No personal pictures and only a few photographs on the wall. I made sure to put up some Ansel Adams so there is a little bit of Sylas. The kitchen is all stainless steel and granite and the bedroom is also done in silver and black.

Saige walks across the living room to look out the enormous window that looks out over the city.

“Great view, though,” she says, speaking to me over her shoulder.

“That’s what sold me on the place. The view.” I’m not exactly talking about what’s outside the windows. She’s casual again, with just a pair of jeans, a loose top and her hair twisted into a knot on the very top of her head. Her face is free of makeup for now and her eyes are so unbelievably green they don’t look real.

“So is there anything I should know about?”

“Huh?” She’s been busy staring at the view and I’ve been busy staring at her.

“About going to your parents’ house. Is there anything I should know? I don’t want to commit a faux pas if I can help it, and I definitely don’t want to get lectured.”

She laughs and comes back over to me.

“You’ll be fine. Just be yourself. I’ve never seen you ruffled under any circumstances. My mother is usually so focused on telling me how much I’m disappointing her that she probably won’t even notice you. They were on their very best public behavior at the benefit.” I had the feeling. People are so much different when they are in their own homes and there isn’t an audience.

“Well, just let me know if I’m doing something wrong.”

“Will do,” she says, picking up her bags. “Bathroom?”

I point in the right direction and she marches off. I go to the bedroom and pull out my suit for the evening, along with my shirt, tie and undergarments. There’s a knock at the door as I’m pulling my shirt over my head. I’d shaved and showered before picking Saige up, so all I need to do is get dressed basically.

“Yeah?” Saige pokes her head in.

“What are you wearing?” I motion to the bed. She comes in and inspects the outfit.

“Okay. I just didn’t want to clash with you. I brought three dresses.”

“No wonder your bag is so heavy,” I say, shaking my head at her.

“Hey, it’s much more work being a girl. You have no idea.” My mother used to take such care with her makeup. It was mesmerizing to watch her slowly slick on her lipstick, making sure it was absolutely perfect.

“Can I see the choices? Since you’re allowed to see my outfit,” I say and she goes to get the candidates. She moves my suit over and sets each dress out beside it, like they’re a couple without people inside them.

The choices are a nude dress, a black one and a grey one with black panels on the sides.

“I usually wear black because it pisses my mom off. If she had it her way, I’d be dressed in any color but that.”

“Well, how about a compromise? The grey has black in it.” She nods.

“That’s what I was thinking. Okay, thank you. Oh, another question. Hair up or down?” I like it either way, but I’m sure he mother would want it up in a respectable bun.

“Down. Definitely down,” I say and she presses up on her toes to give me a kiss.

“Did you ever take dance?” I blurt out.

“I did ballet for a few years. On pointe and everything.” She pops herself up on just her toes like it’s absolutely nothing to defy gravity that way. Her arms go up and she poses. She has a dancer’s body.

“Why do you ask?” she says, coming down and pointing one foot out in front of her.

“Just wondering.” I shrug it off and she picks up the black and grey dress.

“I’ll be back.” She skips off and I go back to getting dressed.

Saige doesn’t take as long as I thought she would to get ready. When she finally walks out of the bathroom she’s transformed. Her eye makeup is a little more reserved than normal, but her lips are, and always will be, red.

“You like?” she says, twirling on her toes with her arms above her head.

“You look quite respectable to me.”

“And that will still not be enough for my mother. But you look really nice,” she says, tugging on my red silk tie.

“I thought I’d be a little daring tonight,” I say. She pulls me down and I think she’s going to kiss me, but she pulls back at the last second.

“Lipstick,” she says, pointing to her lips. “After the dinner, we can mess it up. But not before.” I agree, but I really don’t want to. I want to march her back to the bedroom and say fuck her parents and stay here. But I’ll get her later, so I have that at least to look forward to.

I just have to get through the next few hours.

It’s amazing what you can find online if you look hard enough. When I’d first taken on Mr. Beaumont, Cash had found pictures of the interior and exterior of their house. They’d bought it six years ago and the pictures from the real estate listing were still lurking around in the back room of the internet.

The place is impressive, as it should be. It was built with dirty, bloody money.

Saige makes a face as I pull into the circular driveway.

“I hate coming here.”

“Why?”

“Because this house is just so… Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. I mean, I know it’s technically my family’s house, but it just seems like a bit much, don’t you think?” I agree with her more than she can possibly know.

“Well, your father has worked hard for his money and I guess he decides how he spends it.” She frowns a little as I turn the car off. I stopped on the way to get some flowers for her mother, white lilies at Saige’s suggestion, and I grab them out of the backseat before going around to help Saige.

“You ready?” she says, straightening my tie.

“Absolutely.” I smile at her and we walk toward the front door.

I ring the doorbell and a maid answers it. She’s not in a full uniform, but it’s easy to tell what her job is.

“Hello, Martha,” Saige says, giving the woman a warm smile.

“Good evening, Miss Saige, Mr. Brand. Please come in.” She steps back and even though I’ve seen pictures of the foyer, it’s still a visual punch.

Opulence. Excess. Money dripping from every surface.

“It’s a bit much,” Saige says in my ear as Martha leads the way to what I assume is going to be a sitting room.

Saige’s parents are clearly very into gold and warm colors because they’re splashed everywhere. It’s like they’re trying to say “We’re rich, just look at our house!” It’s… definitely too much. And it makes me sick.

Martha leads us past an enormous set of stairs and into a large sitting room filled with what look like extremely uncomfortable chairs and couches. There’s a fireplace at each end and the windows reach all the way to the ceiling.

“We’re here,” Saige calls and her parents turn around. They’re at the other end of the room. Her mother hands her father a drink from a little cart as he sits in front of the fireplace on one of the gold-upholstered chairs. He stands when he hears Saige’s voice.

“It’s nice to see you again so soon, Quinn,” he says, setting his drink down and holding his hand out. I shake it and then present the flowers to her mother.

She offers her appreciation, but the ice in her smile doesn’t melt. This woman is cold, cold, cold. Saige is nothing like either of her parents.

“Can I get either of you a drink?” she says, sweeping her hand toward the cart.