A black luxury sedan arrived promptly at 6:30 to pick me up. I have on my black dress and more makeup than I normally wear. My hair is down, and I even went to the trouble of straightening it.
A half hour later, the driver pulls up to a large iron gate attached to stone pillars. The gate opens to a flawless lawn topped with large shade trees and manicured bushes. The long driveway leads to a mansion that seems to go on forever. I guess that’s why the invitation called it an estate. House doesn’t do it justice. The mansion is covered in light colored stone and has white trim, black shutters, and a large black front door. Four chimneys line the roof. Off to the right, I notice a smaller house. Small is relative in this description. It’s way bigger than Nate’s house, but compared to the mansion next to it, the building looks like a small cottage. It’s probably where the hired help stays.
The driver opens my door and takes me to the front entrance. The door immediately opens and a thin woman with straight blond hair and deep blue eyes appears. She has on a short-sleeved black dress that looks much nicer than the black dress I have on. My eyes focus on her diamond necklace and earrings. I’ve never been this close to that many diamonds.

“Jessica, welcome to our home. I’m Mrs. Kensington. Please, come in.”
I enter into a large open room with shiny white tile floors and tall white walls. The room is so big it looks like a hotel lobby, but I think it’s technically called a foyer. On each side of the foyer there appears to be a room, but the doors are closed, so I can’t see what’s in them. The area ahead of me seems to branch off into the many different sections of the house.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Kensington. Thank you for inviting me for dinner.”
“Certainly. We always enjoy having the scholarship recipients over to the house. Let’s go to the sunroom. My husband is still at the office, so dinner will be in a half hour or so.”
She takes me to a room that has windows along three walls. It’s cloudy outside, so the sunroom isn’t exactly living up to its name, but I’m sure on a sunny day it does. I sit on a small white sofa. The cushions are so stiff I feel like I’m sitting on a wooden bench. Mrs. Kensington sits across from me in a high-backed white upholstered chair. She looks like a queen sitting on her throne. I glance out the back windows and see a massive in-ground pool surrounded by black metal patio furniture with white cushions. I’m sure just one of those chaise lounges costs more than all the furniture in my old house. There’s a flower garden behind the pool that is so perfect it could be featured in a magazine.
“Would you like a soda or some water?” Mrs. Kensington asks.

I notice a woman dressed like a maid standing next to me.
“Oh, uh, yes. A soda would be great. Any kind is fine.”
The maid leaves, and I’m left there with nothing to say. I should have made a list of things to talk about. Luckily, Mrs. Kensington starts by telling me about the history of the college and what a wonderful school it is, leaving me free to sit there and listen. Just as she seemed ready for me to talk, a man appeared in a butler’s uniform.
“You may sit down for dinner now,” he says.

“Excellent. Right on time.” Mrs. Kensington gets up.
I stood up, too, my drink still in my hand. I’m not sure what to do with it. Do I take it with? Leave it there? I feel like there’s a proper protocol I’m supposed to follow. She nods at me to leave the glass on the table by her chair, then watches as I set it down. We walked down a long hallway to the dining room and I thought about what a nightmare it would be to live here. Everything looks so expensive that I wouldn’t dare touch anything. And the house is spotless. Eerily spotless. I check behind me as I walk. Heaven forbid if a piece of dirt from my shoe lands on the white tile floors. They’d probably send me right home or take my scholarship away.
“You can sit there, Jessica.” Mrs. Kensington points to a chair in the middle of the long dining table. “My husband will be arriving shortly.”
She stands at the end of the table but doesn’t sit down, so I remain standing as well. Mrs. Kensington makes me very nervous. When she speaks, her tone never changes. Even when she went on and on about how great the college was, there was no emotion at all. No excitement. Nothing. And her expression never changes. The whole time I’ve been here she’s had this half smile on her face that seems to be hiding something. Anger. Depression. Mid-life crisis. Who knows? But she doesn’t look happy, at least not genuinely happy. She seemed to be analyzing everything about me. My hair. My dress. My posture. I’m sure she’ll be judging me all through dinner. Knots form in my stomach as I imagine how awful this dinner will be. It’s 7:30, and she said I’d be home by 10. So I have to make it through two hours.
That’s not that long. I can handle two hours. We’ll be eating for part of it. My internal pep talk isn’t working. I feel my palms start to sweat when I look down at the array of silverware on the table. I’m not at all familiar with the correct usage of different-sized forks and spoons. I’m sure I’ll screw it up.
“Jessica. Welcome.” Mr. Kensington walks in wearing a dark gray suit and tie.
He’s handsome for a man who I’m guessing is in his late forties. Thick, dark hair and dark brown eyes. He’s a big man. Not fat, but tall with broad shoulders. He’s at least 6’5, maybe taller. He towers over me as he comes to shake my hand.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Thank you. Nice to meet you, too.”
He motions me to sit, then takes a seat at the head of the table while his wife sits at the other end. I’d read that Mrs. Kensington is his third wife. She’s younger than him. Probably around 35. I think they have a kid, although I don’t see any signs of children around this place.
“Should we begin?” The butler is standing next to Mrs. Kensington.
“No, we need a few more minutes, please.” Mrs. Kensington shoots an angry look at Mr. Kensington.
I guess she can show emotion, if necessary.
“Are we waiting for someone?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Are we?” she asks Mr. Kensington, a harsh sting to her tone. I hear fast walking in the hallway.
“Sorry I’m late.”
I look up to see Dominic standing there.