Chapter 8

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Mr. Jeff's office was in lower Manhattan. So we had a good view of the Statue of Liberty and Battery Park was in close sight, too, so it was a lovely view. Mr. Jeff's mansion was a rich New Yorker's mansion, meaning it was a townhouse, but a huge townhouse. It was five stories tall. It wasn't that wide, but it made up for that in height and everything on the inside. We pulled up to the brick townhouse with teal accents and shrubbery on the windowsills. 

Townhouses always look simple but clean and neat on the outside, simple, but once you step inside it's like walking into a palace, especially Lafayette Jeff's. The foyer was more expensive than anything I owned. Mr. Jeff took me on a tour of the place since everyone was gone except for some servants.

"So when is everyone arriving?" I asked.


"Soon. One by one they'll arrive," he said, looking grim.


"How about when we leave we stop to get some chocolate with caramel and then I give you a foot rub and we can watch Breakfast at Tiffany's?"


He smiled, and said, "Sounds good to me."


The first person I met was his older sister Axelle and her boyfriend Daniel.


"Hello brother," she greeted. "Surprised to see you here."


"I figured I could show my new assistant my house," he said simply.


She rolled her eyes. "You always call it your house, but you never live here. Probably because you don't care about your family enough. Where do you stay, huh? At all your mistresses' houses? Hell, you probably have a second house for yourself."


Mr. Jeff ignored her basically. "Axelle, this is my good friend and assistant, Emerson Lane. Em, this is my sister, Axelle, and - I'm sorry, what's your name?"


"Daniel," said the guy, sizing Mr. Jeff up. What? Did he think he was better than Mr. Jeff? Who's the billionaire here? "Daniel Isaac."


"Right. I'm Lafayette and this is Emerson."


He nodded, grimacing a smile.


"Carlita!" Axelle called to the maid. "Set up the table for dinner, and bring a bottle of champagne to the parlor." The two of them left, throwing looks over their shoulders as Mr. Jeff and I stayed on the patio.


"Well, they seem like a nice couple," I joked.


"Oh, most certainly." He shook his head, annoyed. "My sister is not the worst. She doesn't just dislike me, but everyone really. So at least it's fair."


"Well, she's pretty." Axelle kind of was pretty. She had botox, definitely, even though she was only thirty-two. She was blonde, but since his family seemed to have dirty blonde hair her platinum was dyed. I feel like she could've been way prettier without the plastic. But I'm gay, so who cares right? "Are any of them married or have kids?"

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