parents?” The invitation was not unwelcome , just unexpected. Taine had met her mother and grandmother several times when he had come by to pick her up in his truck, but she had not met any of Taine’s family yet.
Taine’s face reddened slightly. “We don’t have to go if you’d rather not. Mom’s just curious about the girl I’ve been spending all summer with. She wants to meet you.”
“Of course I’m happy to go,” she reassured him quickly. It was not a complete lie. Though she would rather have spent these last few days alone with Taine, she was curious about meeting his family. “It was nice of your parents to invite me.”
The first inkling she had that maybe she had made a mistake in accepting the invitation came as they pulled up into the circular driveway in front of the house. She had known that the Hunters were wealthy farmers, the local aristocracy, but the sight of their mansion brought home to her just how different were the lifestyles that she and Taine came from. The tiny railways cottage that she shared with her mother and grandmother was little more than a tumbledown shack, especially compared to the grandeur and sophistication of the turn of the century villa and elegant gardens where the Hunters lived.
As they walked over the pebbled driveway up to the front door, she pulled uncomfortably at her short shorts and her skimpy halter top . They were just the thing for picnicking by the lake, but in this setting she felt terribly out of place.
Sensing her unease, Taine reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. “You look beautiful. I’m sure my parents will love you as much as I do.”
She gripped his hand tightly for courage as she flip-flopped across the marble entryway in her jandals. It was colder inside than out, and she shivered a little in her sleeveless top.
Her worst fears were realized when the dining room door opened onto his parents; his mother, despite the heat, was dressed in a twinset and pearls, and his father in a smoking jacket. The air conditioning was turned way up, and she felt as though she had walked into a freezer.
Taine pulled her forward. “Mum, Dad, this is Verity.”
Mr. Hunter strode forward and shook her heartily by the hand. “Pleased to meet you at last.”
She smiled at him, relieved that he, at least, was as friendly and unstuffy as his son.
Mrs. Hunter, however, looked patently unimpressed. “So, you’re Verity.” She looked her up and down, making Verity horribly aware of the ragged hem of her shorts and the way her cheap top had faded in the summer sun. “You’re very...suntanned.” Her greeting was colder than the overly air-conditioned room.
Verity shrugged, feeling uneasy under the other woman’s scrutiny. “I’m Maori. My family, my iwi , are Tainui .” She might be poor, but she was proud of her ancient heritage and the way she could trace her ancestors back to respected Maori elders and chieftains.
The lines around Mrs. Hunter’s mouth tightened. “Maori. I see. And where did you and Taine meet?”
“I spent this summer working at Trey’s Vege Barn. I met him there.”
Mrs. Hunter looked blank.
“It was one of the places Taine delivered to,” Verity elaborated.
Mrs. Hunter was looking increasingly unhappy with the results of her interrogation. “And what did you say your last name was?”
“Samuels. Verity Samuels.”
Did she imagine it, or did a spark of pure hatred shoot through Mrs. Hunter’s eyes at the mention of her name?
Lunch was excruciating. Though the place settings were elegant, the food was mediocre at best, and the atmosphere in the room was positively toxic.
Verity’s appetite had deserted her anyway. Though Taine and Mr. Hunter did their best to include Verity in the conversation, Mrs. Hunter was far more determined to exclude her, pointedly steering the talk around to people Verity did
Taine’s face reddened slightly. “We don’t have to go if you’d rather not. Mom’s just curious about the girl I’ve been spending all summer with. She wants to meet you.”
“Of course I’m happy to go,” she reassured him quickly. It was not a complete lie. Though she would rather have spent these last few days alone with Taine, she was curious about meeting his family. “It was nice of your parents to invite me.”
The first inkling she had that maybe she had made a mistake in accepting the invitation came as they pulled up into the circular driveway in front of the house. She had known that the Hunters were wealthy farmers, the local aristocracy, but the sight of their mansion brought home to her just how different were the lifestyles that she and Taine came from. The tiny railways cottage that she shared with her mother and grandmother was little more than a tumbledown shack, especially compared to the grandeur and sophistication of the turn of the century villa and elegant gardens where the Hunters lived.
As they walked over the pebbled driveway up to the front door, she pulled uncomfortably at her short shorts and her skimpy halter top . They were just the thing for picnicking by the lake, but in this setting she felt terribly out of place.
Sensing her unease, Taine reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. “You look beautiful. I’m sure my parents will love you as much as I do.”
She gripped his hand tightly for courage as she flip-flopped across the marble entryway in her jandals. It was colder inside than out, and she shivered a little in her sleeveless top.
Her worst fears were realized when the dining room door opened onto his parents; his mother, despite the heat, was dressed in a twinset and pearls, and his father in a smoking jacket. The air conditioning was turned way up, and she felt as though she had walked into a freezer.
Taine pulled her forward. “Mum, Dad, this is Verity.”
Mr. Hunter strode forward and shook her heartily by the hand. “Pleased to meet you at last.”
She smiled at him, relieved that he, at least, was as friendly and unstuffy as his son.
Mrs. Hunter, however, looked patently unimpressed. “So, you’re Verity.” She looked her up and down, making Verity horribly aware of the ragged hem of her shorts and the way her cheap top had faded in the summer sun. “You’re very...suntanned.” Her greeting was colder than the overly air-conditioned room.
Verity shrugged, feeling uneasy under the other woman’s scrutiny. “I’m Maori. My family, my iwi , are Tainui .” She might be poor, but she was proud of her ancient heritage and the way she could trace her ancestors back to respected Maori elders and chieftains.
The lines around Mrs. Hunter’s mouth tightened. “Maori. I see. And where did you and Taine meet?”
“I spent this summer working at Trey’s Vege Barn. I met him there.”
Mrs. Hunter looked blank.
“It was one of the places Taine delivered to,” Verity elaborated.
Mrs. Hunter was looking increasingly unhappy with the results of her interrogation. “And what did you say your last name was?”
“Samuels. Verity Samuels.”
Did she imagine it, or did a spark of pure hatred shoot through Mrs. Hunter’s eyes at the mention of her name?
Lunch was excruciating. Though the place settings were elegant, the food was mediocre at best, and the atmosphere in the room was positively toxic.
Verity’s appetite had deserted her anyway. Though Taine and Mr. Hunter did their best to include Verity in the conversation, Mrs. Hunter was far more determined to exclude her, pointedly steering the talk around to people Verity did
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