Im going to change my clothes. If he arrives, usher him into the study, will you?
Sure thing.
Horace headed straight for the second floor.
Shane waited in the parlor.
Moments later, the distant hum of an engine reached his ears.
Shane sprang up, affecting a pretense of tidying the table with a cloth.
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Under the servants guidance, a strapping young man entered. Towering at over six feet, he sported broad shoulders and a slender waist.
His tailored suit and handcrafted shoes exuded sophistication.
Casting a fleeting glance at Tyrone, Shane inwardly marveled at his uncanny resemblance to both Horace and Blayze.
The servant addressed Shane, Tyrone has arrived.
That said, he moved aside and obeyed the commands.
With feigned nonchalance, Shane turned around, feigning surprise.
Ah, Mr. Blakely! Your reputation precedes you, a true prodigy indeed!
Tyrone, composed, asked, Is Mr. Fowler present?
Indeed. Shane grinned and said, Hes taking a breather. Follow me to the study, please. Ill fetch him.
Silent, Tyrone followed Shane upstairs.
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Curious, Shane probed, Our families have drifted apart. May I know what prompts this visit?
I have pressing matters to discuss with Mr. Fowler.
Care to elaborate?
Tyrone looked up at Shane.
Momentarily caught off guard, Shane found himself at the study door.
He chuckled lightly.
Mr. Blakely, do take a seat.
Tyrone strolled into the study, his gaze fixed straight ahead, settling himself on the sofa in the reception area without casting a single glance sideways.