Chapter 16
Bryce
October 14th
I’d just washed, shaved, and was pulling out some casual yet dinner-at-the-manor worthy clothes from my closet. A pair of dress trousers, polo shirt, and leather belt that matched leather loafers would have to do. Avery had said it was casual, but with her blue blood family, I wasn’t quite sure what that meant.
It was Saturday, typically my day off, but one of the full-time staff over at the Belle had called off work, so I’d filled in last minute. The money was good when that happened. Time and a half, so it was a no brainer as far as I was concerned.
I dabbed a bit of shoe polish onto one of my loafers, and then took the shoe brush to it to shine it up nicely. These loafers were about four years old. I wasn’t into business casual or formal attire. Avery had hit the nail on the head: I’d found my inner cowboy. And, to be honest, I was damn proud of it.
I was just finishing up with the other shoe when there was a knock on my door. I glanced quickly over at my nightstand and saw it was only six-thirty, so I wasn’t running late for dinner. It couldn’t possibly be Avery wanting to rip my ass for tardiness I thought, giving a soft chuckle as I headed towards the door.
It was Becky from the office over at the Belle.
“Hey Bryce,” she said, handing over an envelope, “I tried to catch you before you left today but you were too quick for me. This letter came in the other day and you haven’t stopped by the office in a few days so I thought I’d drop it off on my way out. I think it’s from your folks.”
I smiled, taking the envelope from her. I suspected Becky knew that I was still kind of estranged from my folks since she hadn’t seen too much outgoing mail from me to them in the last month or more. “Thanks Becky, I guess I need to be a bit more vigilant with my correspondence, huh?”
“Family is family,” she replied, “We can’t pick and choose so it’s best to appreciate what God blessed you with, right?”
“Right,” I replied, giving her a thumbs up. “Have a great weekend.”
“You two, Bryce. And write home, okay?”
“Will do.”
I tossed the envelope onto the countertop. I’d read it later. Right now, I needed to finish up and make tracks up to the manor. Avery had made it a point to drill into me that cocktails and appetizers were at seven; dinner at seven-thirty sharp. I’d waited for her to school me on which fork to use, but thank fuck she’d not gone on with anything other than making sure I knew the time to be there.
I pulled my leather jacket on, turned on my porch light, and locked the door behind me as I made my way down and over to Sinclair Manor.
I could handle this.
Really. I could.
Okay, so things weren’t really going that bad. I got to the manor on time. Thatcher ushered me in to where it seemed as if a grand stand full of people were already mulling around. Avery found me right away, as if she’d been worried I wouldn’t show, or be on time, or do something that might cause her family to shun me. I swear to God, that girl was all about being perfect, or maybe about being perceived as perfect. In my eyes, she was perfect. She could do no wrong. She couldn’t fuck up…no way, it just wasn’t in her genetics.
She’d come over to me, locking her arm with mine and leading me over to where a group of people were clustered, as if I were one of her prized trained horses. I didn’t mind. She was all about showing me off, the same way I’d be showing her off if the situation were reversed.
“Mom, Dad, I want you to meet Bryce Slater. Bryce, these are my parents, Trey and Tylar Sinclair.”
I immediately sized up her father which I guess was probably a “male” thing to do. “Judge Sinclair,” I greeted, holding out my hand for him to shake, “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Sir.”
I watched as he sized me up, and then a hint of a smile played on his lips, “Don’t try so hard, son. Avery is over eighteen. I couldn’t ground her even if I wanted to,” he continued, giving my hand a hearty squeeze undoubtedly waiting for me to flinch under his power.
“Good to know, Sir,” I acknowledged, “You remind me of my father.”
“Ooh, ouch!” a tall, dark haired chick with eyes that matched his and legs that seemed to go all the way to her throat said. “I don’t think Bryce was complimenting you, Daddy,” she said with a laugh. She held her hand out to me, forcing Judge Sinclair to release mine. “I’m Preston, the older sister. Don’t let Daddy intimidate you, it’s that “judge” thing he has going on. He doesn’t know when to shut it off, I’m afraid.”
I shook her hand, and displayed a knowing smile. “Got one like him at home,” I said with a chuckle, “Used to it.”
“Touché,” she said, giving her father a wink. “I like him, Avery.”
“Glad you approve, Sis,” Avery spoke up and hearing her voice gave me a bit of instant courage. It was true that the judge bore some of the same traits as my old man. I could tell that within seconds after meeting him. Not that many words had been exchanged between us, but that didn’t matter. It was all about body language: stature, presence, perusal, eye contact, and tone. Yes, I knew Judge Sinclair was cut from the same cloth as Eric Slater. His mere presence demanded respect, and I was sure his two girls had never tested his authority the way that I’d tested my father’s. But then, maybe he’d been perfectly content with allowing them to be who they wanted to be; follow their own dreams, carve their own paths towards the future.
“And here’s my brother, Trey Jr.,” Avery continued, nudging my shoulder. “He’s a senior this year at Harrison High School in Kennesaw. Plays football as you can see by his buffness,” she teased, giving her brother a playful smack on one of his broad shoulders. It was easy to see Avery’s siblings got the height in her family. Trey Jr. was a bit of a hulk.
“Play defense do you Trey?” I asked, holding out my right hand.
“It’s that obvious, right?” he said with a laugh giving my hand a hearty shake. “Sure do. Defensive Lineman. Hope to play for Auburn next fall. Did you play?” he asked, genuinely interested. “You’re built like a wide receiver.”
“Played baseball in high school. First baseman.”
“You move fast,” he commented with a smirk. “Nice.”
“Ahem,” Judge Sinclair cleared his throat, clearly getting irritated with his son’s double entendre. “Avery, your mother is with your grandmother in the kitchen. Perhaps you’d like to make the introductions there?”
Avery grabbed my hand and nodded. “Bryce has already met Grandma and Grandpa, but I do want him to meet Mom before we sit down to dinner. C’mon Bryce.” I gladly allowed her to lead me down the hallway towards what I guessed was the kitchen. The house was formal, but also comfortable and tasteful. I could see my own grandmother fitting in perfectly here. She had money as well.
But like the Sinclairs, my Grandmother Dennison didn’t put on airs. It’s what made me comfortable being here at the moment because it wasn’t foreign to me.
I met Avery’s mother, Tylar, and immediately saw the resemblance to Avery. Not only physically, but her demeanor as well.
“How have you enjoyed working at Sinclair Stables?” she asked.
“It’s been an education in many ways. Avery was patient with me, I’ll give her that. But all in all, it has been one of the best summers of my life. Learned a lot.”
She presented me with a warm smile. “This is where I met Avery’s father,” she explained. “I was about your age. I worked here for the summer before my sophomore year of college. I’d been attending Virginia Intermont, just like Avery. I guess my experience that summer was similar to yours, Bryce. Very eye-opening.”
“Yes Ma’am,” I replied, glancing over at Avery not missing the blush that warmed her face. “My eyes were definitely opened. Makes me want to stay around here for a long time. It’s beautiful country.”
“It has its perks for sure,” Avery replied.
The dinner turned out to be better than I’d expected. I got the usual “grilling” by Avery’s father, but he did relax his tone a bit with me. He asked me some questions about Taz, which thankfully got him off questioning me, and on to the story of how they had met one another back in Napa years ago. Apparently Judge Sinclair’s brothers had operated a winery there. His brother Tristan had known Taz best. Judge Sinclair mentioned that he’d seen him in his official FBI capacity on one occasion years back.
I kind of knew that story; it was a horrific one. But I also knew that Judge Sinclair had gone out on a limb for Taz, and in doing so, probably saved my sister’s life. That fact alone would garner eternal respect for the man from me.
All in all, the evening had gone well. When it was finally winding down, Avery excused herself to walk with me back to my cabin.
“Well,” she said after we’d walked about twenty yards, “Was it as bad as you expected?”
“Who said I expected it to be bad?” I asked. “I dig your family. I was me, Avery. I won’t be anyone else. What they see is what they get.”
Before our final good night kiss, she invited me over for a fall barbecue the following Sunday afternoon at her Uncle Tristan’s place. “I dunno,” I said reluctantly. I appreciated the fact she wanted to include me in these family get-togethers but hell, I didn’t want to overdose on it this soon into our relationship. “You know Sunday is my day for getting laundry done, cleaning up the cabin, shit like that.”
“Oh come on,” she prodded playfully. “Sarah is finally coming home this weekend and you haven’t met her or Reese yet. Or even my Aunt Gina. I know you’ll love her.”
“Which one? Sarah or your Aunt Gina?”
“Both,” she said rubbing up against me.
“Damn girl,” I said, stifling a grin, “I can’t refuse you, can I?”
“It must be my magic,” she teased back. “See you tomorrow. I’ll come by around four and we can ride over together.”
“We’re gonna have to, babe. You’re the only one with wheels and I’m clueless as to where they live.”
Little did I know that my whole world would change in less than twenty-four hours.