The cab didn't wait very long after dropping Chris off at the gates, swerving in a big circle to head back towards town, the driver throwing him a peace sign out the window as he turned up his Turkish dance music. Chris lost the receipt immediately, and the flimsy paper fluttered away into the dark as he fumbled his wallet back into his pants pocket.
"Dammit," he muttered, and staggered over to the ostentatious iron-bar gates, looming larger than normal in the middle of the night. He peered groggily up at the top rail, his eyes following the perfect bezier-curve that sloped over to a giant S in a circle, joined in the middle. Like always. S for Smith, he was in the right place.
He turned his concentration over to the side of the gate, where he assumed he could slide through. In high school when he was out past curfew, he used to squeeze between the far side limestone gatepost and the big cedar hedge, his parents none the wiser when he slipped in the back entrance and up to his room carrying his shoes. Well, maybe the gardener knew. It had always been trimmed just enough so Chris could pass without ripping any of his clothing.
That was a long time ago, and as his hand pushed some of the branches away, he hoped he would still fit. Squinting, he stepped in, and his forehead immediately met...
A fence.
"The fuck?" he muttered, stumbling back, rubbing at his head where it had met the hard wood. His heart sped up while he searched along the hedge further along. More solid plank fencing was visible through the green of the cedar boughs. He paced back the other way, and the same thing met his hands as he reached in.
"Dammit!" His voice was loud in the silence around him, and he tensed as it echoed into the night. A bat flew by, startled by the noise, but oblivious to his predicament.
He was stuck outside his own front gate at two in the morning, completely sloshed, smelling like the underside of a bar, and would have to open the damned gates the normal way. It was a long walk over to the stable entrance, which was likely locked up tighter than a drum, so that wasn't an option either. If he climbed the gate, he'd have to explain his drunk ass breaking into his own house when the police showed up, alerted by the security system.
He could only imagine the headlines, and his mother's disapproval. The enjoyable buzz from his night out with too many whisky sours was at that moment gone, replaced by clammy sweat, a rolling stomach, and the dawning realization he might be the young, upward CEO of a successful gas company, but right now, he was an idiot of the first order.
To read this chapter in full, please continue on and purchase the next story part!
YOU ARE READING
For Alice, With Love
RomanceFree to Read with Exclusive bonus content! - Amelia Harris never expected she'd have to share a roof with Chris Smith. Ever. When she took over managing the Smith Estate for his mother, he'd still been happily married in the city, far away from Me...
