I shrugged. “It’s not like I fit into this world.”

“Neither do I,” he countered.

“But you were born into it. You’re a blue blood for God’s sake. Besides, your mother made it very clear a few weeks ago that I wasn’t the type of girl that you should be interested in.” Realizing I had said too much, I quickly tried backtracking. “I mean, the type of girl you should be hanging out with,” I hurriedly added.

“I don’t give two fucks what kind of girl my parents think I should be hanging out with. I like being with you. I can’t remember a time when I’ve had more fun or been more at peace than I have with you. You’re the only thing that has made this visit tolerable. All those reasons? They’re what matters, not my parents.”

Between his words and the intensity of his stare, I had to focus on breathing. In and out, in and out, I recited in my head as my chest rose and fell in harsh pants. Finally, when I felt like I wasn’t going to pass out, I murmured very ineloquently, “Okay then.”

He smiled. “Good. I’m glad we have that settled.” He held out his arm for me to take just like a gentleman of years past would. “Now come on. It’s time we jumped into the shark tank.”

I slipped my arm through his and let him lead me up the walkway. When we got to the backdoor, Rhys didn’t even bother knocking. Instead, he barreled right on inside. A flurry of activity was going on in the massive kitchen with its marble tiled floor and granite countertops. The caterers and wait-staff buzzed around like busy worker bees. I’m sure Rhys’s mother would have considered them more as drones. They didn’t acknowledge our presence. Only one elderly, African-American woman’s face lit up at the sight of Rhys.

“Why hello there, stranger!” she cried.

Rhys’s face broke into a smile for the first time since we’d pulled into the driveway. “Ozella, my most favorite cook in the whole wide world.”

She wagged a finger at him. “I’m the only cook you’ve ever had.”

He laughed. “You’re still the best.”

His compliment sent a beaming smile across her face. “Well, since you’re a world traveler and famous musician, I’ll take your word for it.”

After they exchanged a hug, Rhys turned back to me. “Allison, this is Mrs. Ozella Princeton. She was our family’s personal cook from before I was born up until a few years ago.”

She smiled. “If I hadn’t had to retire for health reasons, I’d still be here. But I always come supervise Mrs. McGowan’s major parties.”

I held out my hand. “It’s nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.” Once she released my hand, she smacked Rhys playfully on the shoulder. “Now why didn’t you call and tell me you had settled down?”

Both Rhys and my eyes bulged at her mistake. “No, no, we’re not together like that,” Rhys quickly corrected.

Ozella’s brows creased in confusion. “Then how are you together?”

“He’s my brother’s best friend,” I replied, at the same time Rhys said, “She’s my bandmate’s little sister.”

“Uh-huh,” Ozella replied, a knowing look flickering in her eyes. I couldn’t help wondering why she had jumped to such a conclusion. Had Rhys never brought girls around before? Or was it more in the way we interacted with each other?

Her comment left us all in an awkward silence with me gnawing my lip, and Rhys fidgeting with the lapels and then the cuffs on his tux top.

“Zell, we need you,” someone called from across the room.

“Be right there,” Ozella called. Leaning in, she gave Rhys another hug. “Sorry, honey. I’ve got work to do.”

“It was so good seeing you,” Rhys said, as he squeezed her tight.

“You too. Don’t be a stranger when you’re in town. Come to see me anytime.”

Rhys nodded. “I will.”

Ozella winked at me. “You’re welcome, too, Allison.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, not daring to look at Rhys’s expression.

After Ozella had hurried off, Rhys turned to me. “Come,” he said, holding out his hand to me. “Let’s go find my parents so I can properly introduce you.”

Although I nodded in agreement, I fought the urge to stay in the kitchen or anywhere that was far, far away from his parents. It had been bad enough spending any time with his mother. I couldn’t imagine his father would be any better.

Tucked close to his side, I followed him out of the kitchen and into a long hallway. It reminded me a lot of the entrance hallway at the Mercer Williams House. My heels clacked along the marble floor beneath my feet while two glittering, crystal chandeliers lit our way. From ahead of us, I could hear the sound of a string quartet playing. A classical repertoire floated through the air, and for a moment, the relaxing music calmed me.

Pointing up the hallway, Rhys said, “The first room on the right is the ballroom. That’s where the music is coming from and where most of the party guests are. The doors open to a veranda.”

I widened my eyes. “You have a ballroom?”

He shrugged as if it was the most normal thing in the world to have a ballroom. “We also have a study, library, and a billiard room, just like in Clue.”

A nervous giggle escaped my lips. “You do?”

“It was fun growing up with such a big house to explore, but now it seems a bit pretentious.”

Inwardly, I agreed with him. I’d never been comfortable with over-the-top expressions of wealth. While my parents made good money, we lived rather modestly compared to a lot of their friends. I was thankful that when Runaway Train took off, Jake stayed very true to his roots, which meant staying at the farm he grew up on. “I never knew you were this rich.”

Rhys shook his head. “Just remember, this is my parents’ world—it isn’t mine. It never has been, nor will it ever be.”

“I’ll try,” I murmured, as Rhys swept me into a room to the left. This must have been the formal living room. It was heavy on the formal part with chandeliers, Persian rugs, and ornate furniture. It certainly wasn’t the type of living room where you kicked off your shoes and watched TV.

“Rhys darling, there you are,” Margaret called from the corner of the room. She, and who I assumed was Rhys’s father, was talking with another couple. As we approached, the couple excused themselves, and then it was just the four of us.

“Mother, I believe you have had the pleasure, but Father, please allow me to introduce to you, Allison Slater.”

Rhys’s father’s dark eyes narrowed slightly at me as he took a puff of a foul-smelling cigar. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Slater. I’m Elliot McGowan,” he said, extending a hand. Just like Rhys, he was outfitted in a blue and green checked kilt.

As I shook his hand, I quickly replied, “It’s a pleasure meeting you too, sir.”

“I understand you’re here in Savannah for school.”

“Yes, sir. I attend the Savannah College of Art and Design.”

“And what exactly do you plan to do with your degree?”

“Fashion design.”

At his father’s obvious lack of enthusiasm for my major, Rhys cleared his throat. “Allison’s just been accepted for a very prestigious internship.”

I smiled. “Rhys flatters me, but I will be fulfilling my internship while out on tour with his band.”

Margaret made a strangled noise beside me. When I turned to her, she asked, “So you and Rhys will be spending a lot of time together?”

With a nod, I replied, “Yes, just for the summer. I’ll pick up classes again in the fall.”

“I see,” she said, not bothering to hide her disdain.

Craning his neck around the room, Rhys asked, “Where’s Ellie?”

Margaret immediately stiffened before exchanging a glance with Elliot. “Tonight just isn’t the place for Eleanor,” Elliot replied.

Rhys’s pleasant expression instantly darkened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

A nervous titter escaped Margaret’s lips as she gave a flippant wave of her hand. “You know your sister’s limitations. A crowded party full of strange people isn’t the place for her.”

“What you mean to say is, it’s the perfect place for you to be embarrassed by your own daughter?”

“Rhys, you may be a grown adult, but I will not have you speak to your mother with that tone,” Elliot warned.

Shaking his head, Rhys questioned bitterly, “I don’t know why I’m even surprised. Is she even here, or did you keep her as far away as possible by having her stay at the Brandewine Institute?”

“She is here, just like she is every weekend. She just will not be attending the party.”

“You two really disgust me sometimes,” Rhys bellowed, before he turned and strode determinedly out of the room.

I exchanged a horrified glance with Rhys’s parents. “Excuse me,” I said, before hightailing after him. When I got back into the foyer, I glanced left and right to see where Rhys had gone. I heard a door slam in the back, so I raced as best I could in my heels and dress to catch up with him.

As I got outside, I saw him stalking across the garden area. “Rhys, wait!” I called.

He froze. He still hadn’t turned around by the time I got to him. Instead, his broad shoulders were drawn, his head tucked into his chest. Tentatively, I reached my hand out to touch his arm. Words seemed to escape me. There was obviously a sordid history about Rhys’s younger sister that I wasn’t privy to—one that hurt him very deeply. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Rhys turned his head to look at me. “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. It’s my fucking parents and their bullshit way of thinking.”

My hand rubbed up and down his arm. “I’m still sorry they upset you. It’s obvious that you love your sister, and that you don’t want to see her mistreated.”