Arianne thought that the name was familiar. She pondered for a long time while looking at Nina’s pretty face, which was caked with makeup, and finally recalled where she’d heard it. “I know you, you’re Uncle Moran’s daughter.”
That was right. She was Charles Moran’s daughter, Nina Moran. When she ate with Charles during the business trip with Mark, the older man had mentioned Nina at the table.
Charles and the Tremonts went way back. He was someone Mark respected, somewhat of an elder figure.
Nina smiled easily. “Great. The guards at the gate wouldn’t allow me to go in. I could only wait here. I tried calling Mark, but the call didn’t connect. He’s probably busy.”
Arianne asked the guard to open the gate while Nina hauled a large suitcase from the trunk without anyone’s help. Arianne thought that it made her like the girl a little more. Nina’s figure was wonderful. She had the proportions of a super model and was half a head taller than Arianne.
When they entered the house, Nina left her suitcase in a corner casually and lay on the couch as if it was her home. “I’m beat. My flight was over ten hours long and I haven’t rested properly till now. Hey, you haven’t told me who you are. How do I address you?”
Mary answered for Arianne, “She’s the mistress of this house, Mark Tremont’s wife, Arianne Wynn Tremont. You can address her accordingly. Miss Moran, do you want to take a shower? I’ll clean up the guest room for you so you can rest. We don’t know when sir is coming back. I’ll have madam ask him for you later.”
Arianne was puzzled upon discerning the hostility in Mary’s words. Why didn’t Mary seem to like Nina?
Nina didn’t seem to notice it as she said, “Alright. That’ll do. Where’s the bathroom?”
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