Note to self: learn social skills

Chapter 16

The ride from the airport to Grandma Monroe's house hurts my neck. Partially because Hal is there and he is a pain. Mostly because all of the houses are so huge. I've always thought Hal's house was big, but these houses are unbelievably, almost comically huge. Most of them are only two stories tall, but that doesn't mean they aren't huge.

We pull up to the gate of a house that looks something like Pemberly. Once the car stops we get out and I'm assaulted with a wave of warm like I have never experienced before.

"Whoa." I say, wondering if the humidity will actually make my skin wet.

"Yea." Hal groans, looking at the house. "Come on, let's do this."

"Okay, so what's the plan?" I ask.

"What do you mean?"

I follow him toward the ominous black doors. Who paints their doors black anyhow? People who wish death upon their visitors, that's who.

"I mean... you talk and I smile, right?"

"No, you have to be normal. I mean, as normal as you ever get."

I punch him just as the doors creak open. I snap to attention like a drill sergeant is on the other side. It's only a maid. Who looks scared. "Mrs. Monroe will see you in the drawing room."

Do people actually have drawing rooms? I always thought drawing rooms were fictitious rooms where liaisons in 17th century smut novels happened. Not where Grandmas receive their grandsons.

"Oh no." Hal mumbles as we follow the maid.

"What?" I whisper back.

"She only sees people she dislikes in there. If you likes you, she receives you in the parlor."

"So what does the drawing room mean?"

Hal grimaces, straightening his shirt. "Well, drawing rooms are for... leisures."

So I was right about drawing rooms after all. "So she thinks I'm a slut."

"Yea, basically."

I follow Hal, just a step behind. He takes my hand and we enter the drawing room where Grandma Monroe is sitting regally on a couch, reading a paper, sipping some sort of drink.

"Mr. Henry Monroe and Miss Katharine Thames, Ma'am." The maid whispers.

Grandma Monroe looks up slowly, as though she doesn't care at all, and looks at us. "I thought you were coming in tomorrow."

"No, we're here today." Hal says.

"Well obviously you're here today, or I wouldn't be having this conversation with you, Henry." She sighs and stands up, "Well, come here, both of you. Let me see what I'm working with."

I follow Hal into the room. The grip on my hand is tighter, but I'm not sure if it's him grabbing my hand more or me grabbing his hand more. She looks at me then at Hal. "You're sure about this?" she asks.

Sure about me, she means.

"Yes." Hal says, sounding annoyed.

She looks me over again, like really looks me over. "Well, I have three weeks to turn this into a woman fit for the Monroe family." She scrunches her nose, "First thing's first, we'll draw you a bath. We're going to the yacht club for dinner."

Somehow I'm yanked away from Hal and Grandma Monroe's bony fingers are pushing me toward the stairs; a maid joins us. "Bridgett, I want you to call my stylist, have her here at 6:15." We reach the top of the stairs and she looks at me again, "Call my hair dresser as well. What on earth happened to your hair?"