Author's Note: I'm on a roll! Two stories updated in one week! I'm back on a writing spree, wheeeeeee!

Thanks to all my reviewers who urged me to get off my butt and finish this story already! It's been so long! We finally get to see Cam's house... and his mother! The Fisher estate is based off the Vanderbilt mansion. As for the art, I just goggled and picked random names for the portraits, LOL. Sorry we don't get the the actual dinner and Cam's dad, but that'll definitely all be in the next chapter.

Anyway, hope you like it!

Chapter Fourteen: Art and Overanalyzing Mothers

##

Her mom huffed out a breath that made static ring in her ear. "You can't keep doing this, Claire… You're in a foreign city. I don't know what you're up to most of the time and you aren't picking up your calls. …What if something had happened to you? I would never have known until it was too late!"

Even though her mother couldn't see her over the phone, Claire nodded her head seriously. "I know, I know, mom."

Claire cast her eyes back out towards the Harrington estate. She was standing on her temporary room balcony enjoying the fresh air, and although it was starting to get dark, Claire could still see the entire beautiful grounds from the second floor. It was all green grass lawns and stone pathways, except for an explosion of color off to the side with the giant oak tree where Cam reported Anna's award-winning garden. If Claire leaned over and squinted, she could even see the hedge maze hiding the rose quartz fountain Cam had secretly shown her.

Claire sighed and turned away from the view so she could focus all her attention on her mom on the phone. "I only just got back today, that's all."

"Where did you go?" her mother asked, her worry replaced with confusion.

"We went to this resort near the Bahamas."

"Wait, what? A resort? The Bahamas?!"

Claire rested her head against her hand, rubbing her forehead. She was still in disbelief herself. "It was about a three hour private plane ride."

Her mother could only splutter in response. "Claire! How much did this all cost you?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all." Claire sighed again, glad that the glass doors leading to her suite were closed. The lights inside were bright and she could see Cam inside, making his own calls. Probably something relating to the wedding. Everything was picking up steam; the wedding was only days away. She was glad. She didn't want Cam overhearing her mother's worry.

"Everything," she continued, "and I mean, everything, was comped. We took Massie's mom's private jet and it was her dad's private island. It was unbelievable, mom. I never thought I'd see anything like it in my lifetime. We really were in the middle of nowhere. That's why I had no idea you even called. There wasn't any service at all."

Her mother was shocked silent for a moment before she rallied again, "Still! Claire, you need to keep in touch. I wish you had shot me a text or something before, so I wasn't pulling my hair out worrying about you over there."

Guilt flooded Claire instantly. She bit down on her lip and shifted her phone to her other ear, wincing. "I am sorry though. I had no idea Massie's bachelorette party would last a whole weekend. I'll do better from now on, okay? Promise."

Her mother gave a small laugh of exasperation and Claire finally allowed herself to relax again, knowing that her mother was slowly winding down from her lecture. "I know you're having fun, honey. But think about your poor mother too."

Claire sunk down onto a sleek lounge chair with a laugh of her own. She fought down a smile, just relieved that all was forgiven.

"So… the Bahamas, huh?" her mom finally asked in a lilted voice.

Unable to contain her jitters, Claire blurted, "Mom, it was so beautiful."

"I'll bet. You're so lucky. I'm shocked the bride's family could afford all this. And for a whole weekend too. How many of you guys were there?"

Claire leaned over her chair and reassured herself again that Cam was still distracted, before lowering her voice. "Mom, I told you. These people… Inconceivably rich. I wasn't joking. I can't even imagine owning an island that I can visit whenever I want. A weekend like this was nothing to them."

Her mother was silent for a long moment and Claire was too. There wasn't much more she could tell her mom. It was something that needed to be experienced firsthand. Slowly, Claire was starting to understand why Cam had never mentioned his family and childhood in Westchester to her. How could anyone possibly explain that attending private school with celebrities, jet-setting away to your island for a weekend, or shipping all your clothes in from Europe was the complete norm? You couldn't. It was ridiculous.

"Claire, you remember what I told you about these people, right?"

Her mother sounded anxious, so Claire was quick to reassure her. "Of course, mom."

I'll just be myself then, Claire had boldly stated, but a slow building hurricane riot of nerves inside her was making itself known. Everything about herself was starting to seem inadequate.

"Just… be extra careful how you present yourself, Claire. Please," her mom finally said.

Too late for that, she thought. It seemed like there was nothing she could do to make a good impression. She just felt so out of her element. She was making mistakes and enemies left and right, just by existing. "I am, mom," she responded, biting her nail.

"I just don't want them to…"

Claire dropped her hand to her lap. "To what, mom?"

"To hurt you."

Claire closed her eyes and exhaled loudly. "They won't."

The only sounds for a while were the cicadas in the distances and her mother's relieved sigh. Her mother rallied and her voice turned happy again, causing her shoulders to relax. "So, what are Cam's parents like?" she asked brightly.

"I don't know. We're meeting them tomorrow for dinner."

"You've been there for weeks and you still haven't met them yet?" her mother demanded, warning lights flashing in her head. Hadn't that been the reason why Claire had gone with Cam to Westchester in the first place? To meet his family and friends?

Claire brought her nails back to her mouth again. She bit down. "They've been out of the state. Or country, in his dad's case, but they arrived back a few days ago. And then Cam and I only just got back yesterday. It's been really busy, but I'll meet them tomorrow. We're actually having dinner at their house."

"But… you told me you checked out of the hotel days ago. Aren't you staying at their house?" her mom asked, confusion and concern growing.

"No, we're staying at Derrick's house."

Her mom took a deep breath. She couldn't believe that Claire wasn't noticing how weird that was. She knew that Cam's parents hadn't seen him for years, they should have been ecstatic to have him come home. She knew that she would have been jumping to see Claire the moment she was in town. The fact that Cam parent's hadn't been itching or pushing to see Cam and also meet Claire had been noted.

The fact that Cam's parents weren't hosting them was weirder. Why were they staying with Cam's friend when his parent's house was right around the corner? In her mind, it made no sense to her that Cam's parents wouldn't invite them to stay with them instead. Unless… Cam was ashamed of Claire.

Or worse, maybe Cam's parents had forbidden Cam from bringing her to Westchester.

"Mom," Claire called, as if she could sense her mother's rising anxiety. "Stop overanalyzing this. Please."

Her mom cleared her throat primly. "I'm not, honey."

Claire rolled her blue eyes. Her mom was so easy to read, it wasn't even funny anymore.

"Make sure you're polite. Don't forget to bring flowers, chocolate, or wine to the dinner and don't forget to compliment the house in detail, but be honest. Make sure you show proper respect, even if the food—"

"Got it," Claire stressed, squeezing the chaise lounge tightly to avoid biting down on her nails again. She rolled her eyes. "Mom, you're acting like I'm five. Or like, I'm meeting the Queen of England or something. Why are you stressing out? You're stressing me out."

Her mom laughed. "It's just—you love Cam. And it's just starting to seem serious now. There's probably a lot of proper etiquette with these rich families that we don't know."

"Tell me about it." Claire laughed too, but inside there was pressure building tight around her heart. She could still vividly recalled Josh's cautious warnings. Still, she didn't want her mother to worry. Her anxiety wasn't helping hers. She spoke again to reassure her more thoroughly, "But it's just dinner. Really. Cam will be with me. Everything will be fine."

Her mom sighed again, but Claire knew that she had relented. She could hear her mom's reassured smile even through the phone. "You're right. And it's Cam's parents. Everything will be great. I'm so excited for you. Make sure you call tomorrow and tell me all about it."

Tilting her head back and closing her eyes, Claire promised, "I will. Love you, mom."

##

Set upon one of Westchester's highest points on Hilltop Drive, the Fisher Estate and its surrounding woods, a staggering 190 acres, was the definition of prime real estate. The fifty room mansion, designed by McKim, Mead, and White in the 1890s, was built with all the modern amenities only the elite could afford at the time in the contemporary Beaux Arts style.

The open and beautiful rolling property came with mile views across all of Westchester, over the Hudson River, and to all three states. Most of the property was donated to the National Park Service in the 1980s for conservation (though, some say it was really to one-up the Roosevelt family), but the central country house remains to this day. It was impeccably restored and remodeled by 5th generation Fisher family and was where Cam's parents currently lived (when they were even in Westchester, that was).

As the town car climbed the hill carved by natural forest, the green trees gave way to manicured lawns and immaculately tended gardens, interspaced with New York state granite columns, ornate statues, and decorated shrubs all the way up the driveway to the porte-cochère.

Just in case you forgot exactly how rich they were, Claire snarked to herself, privately.

Cam chuckled, rubbing her hand in his as if he knew exactly what she was thinking, and Claire turned her head from staring at her boyfriend's birthplace to glare at him as the car finally pulled to a stop.

"This is where you lived?"

"It was my Great Uncle Henry's. I don't really remember him. All I remember was that he was old… and reeked of cigar smoke all the time, but he was close to my grandmother, so he gifted it to my parents as a wedding present. This is where I grew up."

"Oh god…" was all Claire could say, as she rubbed her hands along her new silk dress after stepping out onto the entryway. According to Massie, the purple orchids decorated on the bottom were hand painted, but Claire was too nervous to really care if she ended up staining it. "I really wish you would have told me all this before," she muttered, staring up at the formidable Indiana limestone Georgian façade. Her stomach was rolling again.

"I know," Cam replied, looking genuinely contrite. "This is a… lot to spring on someone, I know, believe me… But it doesn't change anything, right?"

Cam's face was so earnest and so hopeful that Claire couldn't possibly say anything to discourage him. Not right before finally meeting his parents. How could she hurt her boyfriend by saying that this was completely terrifying to her? That she felt like the world had tilted on its axis and wasn't righting itself? How could she possibly tell him that she was starting to wonder if she ever really knew him at all?

Claire couldn't say that to him. Not tonight. Not like this. So she smiled slightly up at him and assured him, "Of course not."

Cam's answering smile was brilliant. "Then, don't forget to breeeeathe," he told her, rubbing her arms to get her to loosen up and Claire let out a giggle, relieving the tension building inside her. "Are you ready?" he asked.

The blonde bit her lip, then joked, "If I say no, will they reschedule?"

Her boyfriend laughed and placed his hand on her lower back, leading her up to the entrance. A maid opened the front door and allowed them in directly into the receiving foyer, where they were greeted by an elliptical mezzanine with tall marble columns that rose up the second floor and a giant skylight above.

"Wow," Claire whispered, marveling at the stunning interior and imagining the view at night.

A woman appeared from a side room from the right and said, "My God, Cameron! Why is your hair so long? You look like a ruffian! You need to get it cut short before Derrick's wedding."

"Hi, mom," Cam replied simply. He was engulfed in a hug by his mom, but Claire was reeling from the abruptness of the entrance and greeting. She had to refrain from smoothing down her dress and hair again. She stared in disbelief as Cam continued, "Mom, I'd like you to meet Claire Lyons, my girlfriend."

"Oh, hello," Ella said simply, as if she had no idea who this girl could have possibly been. So this is the girl. Claire Lyons… She looks much prettier in person than in that school yearbook photo stolen from the detective.

"It's so nice to meet you, Mrs. Fisher," Clare was saying, even thought her mind was still trying to wrap itself around the thought that she was finally meeting one of Cam's parents. Before Westchester, Claire had been expecting Cam's mom to be a laidback soccer mom. After seeing the outside of their home, Claire had then been expecting an imperious grand woman with a perm dressed in First Lady-esque pantsuit.

Instead, standing before her, was a woman in a bright green top, striped silk-crepe Chloé pants, and velvet Ralph Lauren pumps. It was the first time in a long time Claire didn't feel overdressed.

Well, except for the giant Mikimoto emerald diamond necklace draped casually on her. Knowing Westchester, it was probably worth hundreds of thousands.

Claire couldn't believe this was Cam's mother. She was so… trendy and looked way too young to have a son Cam's age. Claire dug into her purse and fished out her gift, Godiva chocolates and wine. This time, thankfully, she didn't curtsy.

"Oh, how lovely," Ella replied graciously. "You shouldn't have!" Why in the world did she bring me second-rate chocolate? She's meeting me for the first time and she couldn't have splurged for DeLafée? And I've never even heard of this brand of wine! …God god, this girl really is poor! "So, have you been enjoying the city so far?"

"Yes, so much," she replied. "Cam and my friend, Layne, have been showing me around."

Ella looked at her son dubiously. "You're practically a tourist yourself. You don't know the good places like I do. I hope you at least took her to Parlor or Per Se."

"We went there the first night. We've also been to the Tortine, St. Sherrys, the country club, and Le Barnard—"

"My god, Cameron!" Ella cried, clutching her heart. "No one goes to Le Bernardin anymore. The wait is atrocious. Did your food ever even arrive?"

"Of course," Cam replied defensively. "And the wait wasn't that long. There was entertainment and it was nice to see the place again."

Ella wagged her finger and tsked at her son. "You've been gone too long, Cameron. All the places you loved are now tourist traps. You need to take Claire to Parlor at least once. Oh, and take her to try the Chez Panisse on Madison. There new chef is on an organic kick. Claire will like that."

As Cam mumbled a response, Claire giggled in gratitude, her nerves dissipating the more conversation they made with Ella. Ella was so laidback and funny. Why had she been so nervous?

Her mom was right. This was Cam's parents.

Everything was going to be okay. Everything was going to be great.

"The whole thing has been a mess," Ella was saying to her son. She led them into the reception room on the right, filled with French antiques and old portraits, and waved her arm around. "Anyway, take a look around."

"Mom, the place looks great. I don't know what you're talking about."

"My god, you don't know how many migraines these renovations have been causing me! We've only just finished. Your grandmother refused to let me touch the Emperador marble flooring in the foyer. Says it's traditional, but she's not that one that had to design an entire interior around it! So, I had to install this beige ressel panel to match it and then work around that. I had to re-stain the floors six times to get the right shade of finish."

Cam and Claire stared down at the gleaming wood flooring for a moment in disbelief.

"And then I had to redo the custom furniture in the guest bedrooms in the right wing. The place was so rarely used since Harr— ...Well, since you've been away at college that everything had to be remodernized." She cleared her throat and continued, "And the third living room isn't even completely done yet, because the drapes I need are on back order from London. It's awful. You remember how I told you we installed those solar panels on the property for the National Conservatory Ecotrust benefit? Well, all the money we saved will be donated there, so they're going to do a feature next month. God, I'm just praying the drapes will be here by then."

Ella lead them out of the reception room, down a long hallway filled with more old portraits, and into a great circular room with high ceilings, shimmering bronze bas-reliefs, and a giant spiraling chandelier of sculptured gold and glass teardrops, draping elegantly downward, almost touching the oval light rosewood coffee table.

Claire couldn't believe that Cam's parents lived in a place like this. She couldn't believe that Cam lived in a place like this, regardless of renovations or not. It looks like something from a movie set for royalty.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and a maid peered out of a doorway on the left and announced, "It's Mrs. Rivera, ma'am."

"Oh, please send her in," Ella replied. Finally, my reinforcements have arrived.

Cam stared at his mother in surprise. "You invited more people? Mom, I thought we were going to have a family dinner."

Ella smiled sweetly. We would have, if it were just our family. "It's only my friends, Cameron, the usual crowd. I even invited the girls so Claire will have someone to talk to. The cook has prepared the clay pot, and that's always better with more people. Besides, everyone's been dying to see you again. You haven't been in town for years. And they can't wait to meet you, Claire!"

Cam looked at his girlfriend and slid his hand down her back in comfort to cover up his anger at his mother. He had wanted his parents to give Claire their undivided attention to get to know her after what happened at the Harringtons, but he had forgotten. The people of Westchester loved to make events out of every occasion.

He should have expected his mother to spring a last-minute surprise on him like this. He should have known.

"Why don't you give Claire the rest of the tour, while I greet our other guests," Ella suggested, already moving to head to the foyer. "Oh, and go get your father and tell him dinner's almost ready too. He's in the left study."

They watched Cam's mom leave the room, and then Cam tugged on her hand to lead her out another doorway down another hallway. He knew Claire could care less about his parent's new rennovations. His mom had too much time on her hands and was always redoing something. But there was one thing he absolutely had to show Claire, but his girlfriend forced them to stop in the hallway and pointed at one of the giant paintings in the center with a raised brow.

"My Great-Great-Great Aunt Florence," he explained and Claire's eyes widened in surprise.

"These are family portraits?" she squeaked.

Cam was blushing, but Claire didn't notice because she was leaning up close and personal to the artwork detailing. She took in the pose and the understated, yet opulent elegance and sucked in a deep breath, "Oh my god! Is this John Singer Sargent?"

But Cam wasn't giving her time to marvel at the portrait, he was tugging her along again, through more rooms and down a flight of stairs towards a metal locked door. Claire noticed that it was reinforced and required a lock code.

"Ever since I met you," her boyfriend was saying as he punched in the passcode, "I've been wanting to show you this."

The door unlocked and they stepped into an huge underground gallery, lit by soft light fixtures. The first thing that caught Claire's eye was a large silkscreen canvas in the very back. She couldn't stop staring. "Is that a Warhol?" she finally managed to ask.

"Yeah. My brother, Harris, got it for me for my sixteenth birthday."

Claire burst into hysterical laughter.

"Holy shit," she whispered in awe. She didn't even know what to say. She was staring at a genuine Warhol. That Cam owned. In an underground bunker. In his parent's house.

"I was thinking… that I would donate it to your gallery opening."

Claire, who had been unconsciously planning to head towards the wall on the right to see more of the artwork, whipped her head around so fast she almost pulled something. "What?"

"For you and Amy, for the art opening at the end of the year. To be featured alongside your work."

"Cam," Claire spluttered, staring at him with disbelieving tears in her eyes. She wanted to shake him to get him to come to his senses, but she couldn't seem to move. "Are you insane?! You can't donate a genuine Warhol to my tiny art gallery in Chicago!"

"Who says I can't?" he asked with an annoyingly loving grin on his face.

She was feeling faint because when she turned away, she was almost one thousand percent sure that the art hanging along the right wall were Picassos. And if she squinted, she would bet her entire life Gauguins were hanging next to it.

"I draw the line on the Guaguin's Tropical though," Cam told her seriously. "That can go on our apartment wall."

"Oh my god," was all Claire could croak out. Cam laughed at her reaction at his joke, stepping alongside her so she could lean against him, still breathing heavily. This was the most mind-boggling thing she had ever seen since she arrived at Westchester. She hadn't thought anything could top her record, but this had it beat by a hundred. Claire had been dragging Cam to all sorts of art museums dates back in Chicago, and all along he had own entire collection. She felt like an idiot.

She was sure she was going to pass out right in Cam's arms, surrounded by art.

Leaning haphazardly on the ground her famous photography canvases by German artists, some Bernd und Hilla Becher and Thomas Struth's famous shot of the Museum of Modern Art that had inspired her Final Art Project at university. According to Cam, the photos had hung on his parents' apartment in the city, until they moved back into the estate full time. They were then deemed too modern to display.

"I can't believe you never told me about this," Claire finally said, turning to look at her boyfriend.

"I've been dying to the moment I met you at Retro Echo and you mentioned it." Cam's mismatched eyes were bright with honesty and intensity under the low lighting of the bunker. "I've been imagining your reaction since then."

"So you're saying you've been planning to give me a heart attack this the entire time?" Claire couldn't help but ask.

"No," Cam told her with another happy grin. "I've been wanting to share this with you the entire time. "

And then he leaned down and kissed her.

##

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Wicked Games is getting updated next bc I'm basically done with the next chapter, but this will be updated soon too!

Review if you like?