I didn’t need directions on how to get there I just needed to follow my nose. The smells coming from the kitchen were heavenly. There was a gigantic great room off to the left of the entryway that had beige shag carpeting, huge fluffy white couches, a fire roaring in the gas fireplace, and a white baby grand piano in the corner right next to three huge picture windows with built-in white shutters. Travertine tiles covered the entryway and went down the hall, where I assumed they joined into the kitchen. Recessed canned lighting lit the entryway, bathing everything in a warm, soft white. The inside of the house was even prettier than the outside. He waited for me to adjust my coat and grab the package of rolls, and then took my hand and led me up the driveway to the wraparound porch. I reluctantly reached for his hand, letting him pull me out. Jake shut off the ignition and climbed out, and much sooner than I liked my door opened and he was offering to help me up. I’d chosen a pretty maroon flannel that paired really well with my dark blue skinny jeans and camel-colored calf-high boots, but I was starting to get a sinking feeling that my choice of outfit was going to be a little too casual for this type of setting. My appearance wasn’t slovenly by any means. Judging by the stateliness of this house, I wasn’t so sure that my decision to wear jeans had been the right one. Withdrawing my hand from Jake’s grasp, I nervously rubbed my palms against my thighs. Inside, almost all the windows inside were lit, giving off a warm and inviting presence against the dark night sky. The rest of it consisted of a sprawling yard, with rows of towering Lombardy poplar trees lining the edges of the property on three sides and a white pergola nestled to the right of the house. The newer ranch-style house sat on an acre lot, with the home itself taking up at least half of it.

His parents’ large beige and white stucco house loomed before me, tall and intimidating. “Relax.” Jake reached over and grabbed my hand, giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze.

The haunted chair gaston leroux