I drop my hands from his and tilt my head away, disengaging from his intimate stare as well as his overly personal hold.
“Thank you. It has been a long drive. I am sorry I must have not eaten enough,” I mumble stoically, pulling further back into my seat away from him. My turned head resting back on the headrest. But now he doesn’t seem to like that and instead he follows me into my car, his fingers imploring me to stay.
“Gigi, I have missed you so fucking much,” he whispers before dropping the softest kiss on the edge of my jawline. Just like that, my reserves are depleted. I close my eyes in defeat and within moments his presence, his hands, his words, everything Hunter, is just gone. I can’t even focus on his movement away from me, I just feel it.
Somehow I move, it is without conscious thought, I know that. I follow the brochure that he drops on my lap, the printed directions. I drive slowly to the furthest car park, to the very last parking space in the whole college. I switch my car off and drop my head back onto the headrest, keeping my eyes shut as I listen to other students parking their cars, moving around me. I sit there in my little bubble for a while, until the car park quietens, until my feet are sore with pins and needles. Trying to figure out what the heck just happened, hell knows, I need to. My world just imploded and exploded in one unexpected moment.
I am not surprised that it is early twilight when I finally get my shit back together and open my eyes, my meltdown obviously took a while. Before I climb out of my car I figure I need to get back in control a little, look a little more like a Bellafonte and I search through my oversized tote, finally finding my Chanel spritzer, quickly wiping the shock of this afternoon’s event away. I smooth my flyaway hairs back into a neat and presentable bun and finish with a quick swipe of my nude lipgloss. I check my phone and quickly reply to one of the many texts I missed from Hartley, telling her that I had arrived, before grabbing my suitcases and my handbag from the car. I take my time on my way to the administration building, each step forward helps me feel a little bit more like myself, thankfully.
While the outside and gardens of St Joseph’s are impressive, as soon as I step inside, I am literally at a loss for words. Even after having viewed countless beautiful buildings, the sight leaves me standing at the threshold with my mouth embarrassingly open. The foyer is huge, full of gaping voids, modern architecture combined with bespoke timber accents that meld graciously with gray marble, provide a warm and welcoming area. The space is amazing but what they have done with it is sublime, an impressive collection of original paintings and sculptures are hung and highlighted throughout the expanse. It is incredible, and intimidating as all hell. A soft, polite cough brings my focus back to the here and now.
I offer a quick smile to the lady who interrupts me before allowing my gaze to sweep through St Joseph’s foyer again. This time I noticed the smaller detail, finally seeing the state of the art security, the armed guards and the discreetly placed cameras along with the amazing art collection of original’s that dot the lobby.
“Sorry, I am blown away. The photos don’t do it justice,” I say, as I offer my outstretched hand to the equally impressive woman in front of me.
“You must be Verginius Bellafonte. We expected you an hour or so ago, did you have trouble?” she responds in a quiet but professional voice, taking my hand in a polite, well practiced handshake. She nods at the guards and they lock the door behind me, her arm sweeping wide to guide me away from the entrance.
“Just a terrible headache. I hope I haven’t kept you.”
“Don’t be silly. I just like to welcome all our new students home. I was worried more than anything. I am Mrs. Montgomery, Head of Student Services. Welcome, dear. Come on, let’s sign you in, so you can change properly for dinner. You still have an hour and a half, so there is plenty of time,” she turns and I follow her into her office, which looks like it is straight out of a glossy magazine.
On her desk, she has everything I need already. We sit next to each other and she efficiently explains the pertinent information about living at St Joseph’s and being a student here. After some incredibly simple instructions, a quick rundown of the mountain of forms I have to complete and return, she hands me my key and a swipe card.
“At St Joseph’s, we are of the belief that you are all young adults. We have very high standards when it comes to behaviour and study, however Miss Bellafonte, I am sure you are already very attuned to those requirements. Please don’t disappoint us,” she finishes with a condescending pat on my hand, before leading me out of her office. Her beautiful navy blue kitten heels clacking over the marble embellished floor to the wall of lift’s that are situated at the back of the lobby. “I have scheduled an early appointment for us to work through the procedures, I figured due to your late arrival we should reschedule. In the meantime, I will take you up to your room, your cases have already been taken up,” she says over her shoulder, her hands flying over her tablet. My phone pings with an alert just a second later.
“That is just a link to the St Joseph’s app that I have just sent to you. Along with a meeting request. We can meet back down here then and finish with a tour of the College,” she talks as quickly as she walks.
“You are in Suite 7A. Did you know it was your mother’s room when she attended? It is actually the Bellafonte suite. We have everything all ready for you dear. Please settle in and dinner tonight is at 7.30pm, after-five wear. Welcome to St Joseph’s,” and then she all but hustles me into the lift, before swiping her card on the control panel, a demonstration, and a dismissal all in one. I am a little surprised, I thought, ‘take me to my room’ is just that, apparently not.
The lifts match the rest of St Josephs, in terms of design and function, and within moments they open onto my floor. I see now why she didn’t bother accompanying me, it is impossible to get lost here, the small number of suites are clearly marked.
After first seeing the grounds then the lobby area, I have the expectation that my suite will be equally impressive and it is. It really is beautiful. Spacious but homely at the same time. My rooms include a large lounge room that is opposite a state of the art kitchen, a small dining area, a study, and a huge master bedroom complete with a massive ensuite bathroom and walk-in wardrobe. The suite has been done in simple grays, whites with timber oak feature, the soft carpet leads everywhere except for the kitchen which is finished is a matching tile.
I quickly move into the wardrobe and let my inner organisational demon out, and she coordinates the room in under thirty minutes. I place Aunt Addy’s unopened gift in my underwear drawer, I have a sneaking suspicion of what it is, but hide it away to discover later, with a little giggle at her inappropriateness. I lay my makeup out and put my favourite family photo on my bedside table, along with my Kindle. I finish with a walkthrough and an excited smile breaks over my face at everything that this suite represents, my freedom being the main one.
Standing in front of my wardrobe in my St Joseph’s logoed robe, after a long shower, the doorbell sounds. I approach it cautiously but am quickly relieved when I hear Hartley’s insistent, sing-song voice.
“Come on Ginny….we are late for drinks and nibbles,” she says quickly as I pull the front door open for her.