Read Online 24 1/2 Kisses (A Bashir Family Romance) by Kennedy Claire - Free Book Online
Authors: Kennedy Claire
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could answer myself, I was distracted by a gleaming white mansion looming over us.
We were here.
The sun was just making its way to the other side of the sky when I arrived at the estate of the illustrious and wealthy Franklin Family. The gleaming white mansion looked like something out of Architectural Digest, at least three stories high of white pillars and crystal clear windows, with the Atlantic Ocean at its back and gardens and a pool to its side. When I walked up the steps to the entryway in the large rotunda at the center of the house, I heard music and voices spill out from the beach. This was obviously a huge party.
A butler met me at the door and checked for name from a clipboard, and before I could take two more steps inside, I was offered a glass of champagne from someone else.
So this was how Dev lived now.
I was impressed with his childhood home in the gated estate in Fairview, Texas, but this was a whole new level of affluence and I felt—and probably looked—quite out of place.
I made it to the backyard which was brimming with the who’s-who of society. I doubt any of them had ever driven past a mobile home let alone grown up in one like I did.
I scanned the crowd for Eric but didn’t see his friendly blue eyes. I realized that I didn’t see Dev there either.
Making me wait as usual.
I found a spot in the corner of the yard that gave me a good vantage point and carefully sipped my champagne hoping it would take the edge off my nerves. I wondered, why did Dev insist on bringing me here?
I wasn’t there more than a few minutes when an older, silver-fox-handsome gentleman holding a champagne glass approached me with a gleaming white smile—one that didn’t seem to match his age. He offered his manicured hand.
“Gerald Franklin, welcome to my home.”
I shook his hand and tried to see some resemblance to Dev on his face. It was the oddest feeling, knowing he could be Dev’s father. How did it happen? Mrs. Bashir and Gerald Franklin? I couldn’t comprehend it.
“Hi, I’m Scarlett. Scarlett Sommerfield.”
“Sommerfield? Any relation to Jack Sommerfield in Hyannis Port?”
I was half-tempted to say , “No, I’m related to the Sommerfields of Fairview, Lot 25, Row 3 in Live Oak Mobile Home Park.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m from Texas.”
His smile was disarming. It reminded me… of Dev .
“How is it Texas women are so gorgeous? Is it the water out there that makes women so unbelievably enticing?”
I couldn’t believe it. Dev’s presumed father—the billionaire banker—was flirting with me.
“We eat a lot of brisket. I think that’s the secret.”
“In that case, I’m serving fifty pounds of brisket at the next party.” He took a long sip of champagne—definitely not his first glass—then gave me a wink. “Scarlett, if you want a private tour of the house, I’d be happy to show you around.”
I was innocent, but not that innocent. I knew exactly what he was suggesting.
“That’s so nice of you, but I’m here to meet Dev Bashir. I’m with Time Magazine .”
Hi face fell.
“So you’re a reporter? And Dev invited you?”
“Yes and yes.”
“That kid never ceases to amaze me.” He looked at me hard as if putting something together in his mind. “From Texas, huh?”
“Yes. Born and raised.”
He raised his champagne glass in a mock toast announcing his departure.
“Well it was nice finally meeting you, Scarlett. Good luck tonight.”
As I puzzled over the meaning of his words, he walked away.
“Finally meeting you…and good luck?”
My cell phone buzzed with a text drawing me out of my obsessive thoughts.
Running late, sorry! Just leaving the city now. –Eric
Damn!
Eric wouldn’t be here for two more hours at least and Dev was a no-show so far. I decided to make the best of it and wandered over to check out the appetizers. A table was laden with every kind of seafood imaginable, caviar, chilled lobster, fresh fruits and
We were here.
The sun was just making its way to the other side of the sky when I arrived at the estate of the illustrious and wealthy Franklin Family. The gleaming white mansion looked like something out of Architectural Digest, at least three stories high of white pillars and crystal clear windows, with the Atlantic Ocean at its back and gardens and a pool to its side. When I walked up the steps to the entryway in the large rotunda at the center of the house, I heard music and voices spill out from the beach. This was obviously a huge party.
A butler met me at the door and checked for name from a clipboard, and before I could take two more steps inside, I was offered a glass of champagne from someone else.
So this was how Dev lived now.
I was impressed with his childhood home in the gated estate in Fairview, Texas, but this was a whole new level of affluence and I felt—and probably looked—quite out of place.
I made it to the backyard which was brimming with the who’s-who of society. I doubt any of them had ever driven past a mobile home let alone grown up in one like I did.
I scanned the crowd for Eric but didn’t see his friendly blue eyes. I realized that I didn’t see Dev there either.
Making me wait as usual.
I found a spot in the corner of the yard that gave me a good vantage point and carefully sipped my champagne hoping it would take the edge off my nerves. I wondered, why did Dev insist on bringing me here?
I wasn’t there more than a few minutes when an older, silver-fox-handsome gentleman holding a champagne glass approached me with a gleaming white smile—one that didn’t seem to match his age. He offered his manicured hand.
“Gerald Franklin, welcome to my home.”
I shook his hand and tried to see some resemblance to Dev on his face. It was the oddest feeling, knowing he could be Dev’s father. How did it happen? Mrs. Bashir and Gerald Franklin? I couldn’t comprehend it.
“Hi, I’m Scarlett. Scarlett Sommerfield.”
“Sommerfield? Any relation to Jack Sommerfield in Hyannis Port?”
I was half-tempted to say , “No, I’m related to the Sommerfields of Fairview, Lot 25, Row 3 in Live Oak Mobile Home Park.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m from Texas.”
His smile was disarming. It reminded me… of Dev .
“How is it Texas women are so gorgeous? Is it the water out there that makes women so unbelievably enticing?”
I couldn’t believe it. Dev’s presumed father—the billionaire banker—was flirting with me.
“We eat a lot of brisket. I think that’s the secret.”
“In that case, I’m serving fifty pounds of brisket at the next party.” He took a long sip of champagne—definitely not his first glass—then gave me a wink. “Scarlett, if you want a private tour of the house, I’d be happy to show you around.”
I was innocent, but not that innocent. I knew exactly what he was suggesting.
“That’s so nice of you, but I’m here to meet Dev Bashir. I’m with Time Magazine .”
Hi face fell.
“So you’re a reporter? And Dev invited you?”
“Yes and yes.”
“That kid never ceases to amaze me.” He looked at me hard as if putting something together in his mind. “From Texas, huh?”
“Yes. Born and raised.”
He raised his champagne glass in a mock toast announcing his departure.
“Well it was nice finally meeting you, Scarlett. Good luck tonight.”
As I puzzled over the meaning of his words, he walked away.
“Finally meeting you…and good luck?”
My cell phone buzzed with a text drawing me out of my obsessive thoughts.
Running late, sorry! Just leaving the city now. –Eric
Damn!
Eric wouldn’t be here for two more hours at least and Dev was a no-show so far. I decided to make the best of it and wandered over to check out the appetizers. A table was laden with every kind of seafood imaginable, caviar, chilled lobster, fresh fruits and
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