The Funeral Style

Chapter Forty

Ezra Scott is a character from a different book of mine if you have fallen in love with him like I have you should go read that

No shame

Chapter Forty   

We arrived at what I assumed was only one of the Scott's many mansions here in New York. The architecture was beautiful, like it was solely designed to mimic a castle.

"Woah." I breathed, admiring every little thing about the building.

Elias took my hand, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

I nodded, unable to describe it with words. Mrs. Scott said something, but I had completely missed it. My entire focus was on the mansion, and the fact that I was about to walk into the Scott family's house.

Oh my God.

Two butlers greeted us by the front doors, both of them bowing at the Scotts like they were royalty. Hell, they are royalty. They opened the doors and the Scotts strode in like it was perfectly normal to have doors almost two stories high.

"This way." Mr. Scott said, as he led us to the dining room table. "Sit," He beckoned to the seats, "Dinner will be finished shortly."

Elias and I sat together, and both Mr. and Mrs. Scott sad opposite of us.

A butler came in before any of us could get a word out, "Pardon me, the Lancasters have arrived."

Mr. Scott's face lit up, "Of course, of course, let them in."

Dread filled my being as I watched Mr. and Mrs. Lancaster walk in. Mrs. Lancaster was beaming at Elias as Mr. Lancaster spoke with both the Scotts.

"Elias!" Mrs. Lancaster exclaimed as she took the seat beside him. I rolled my eyes. "Your wedding was absolutely fabulous. I'm so terribly jealous, it makes me want to remarry!"

"And your taste is as superb as ever, my dear." Elias said with a faint grin.

She waved her hand, "Oh darling you know you have no reason to flirt with me, I'm already all yours."

Mr. Lancaster cleared his throat, making Mrs. Lancaster's smile fade, she turned to her husband, remembering her manners, she said hello to the Scotts, who both formally greeted her back.

The chefs began to place all kinds of different plates of food on the overly-large table. I've never seen such a feast on a day that wasn't a holiday. I began to wonder how these people weren't massively overweight.

"Go ahead and begin eating." Mrs. Scott said as she looked us all over, "Ezra should be back from the hospital shortly."

"Hospital?" Mr. Lancaster questioned, "Is he alright?"

Mr. Scott snorted, which was odd to see from a guy who practically ran the country with class, "Alright wouldn't be the word I'd use."

"Oh, stop it dear, he's perfectly fine." Mrs. Scott tutted, "We have him see a psychiatrist once a week."

I nearly spat out my drink, I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Psychiatrist?" Ezra Scott goes to therapy?

Elias nudged me as a warning, but I ignored it.

Mr. Scott seemed annoyed, not at my question but at the subject of his son in general. I wondered what he thought about him. "He's fucked in the head." He pointed to his brain, "A disaster, who needs all the professional help that most likely is a waste of all our time."

"Jonathan!" Mrs. Scott gasped at her husband, slapping his shoulder a bit too hard, "Don't speak of our son like that, especially in front of guests."