It was very impressive, even to Chynna, because it made her ten-bedroom mansion in Beverly Hills look like a child’s place. She’d bought the house four years ago, but rarely had the time to enjoy it. When she wasn’t on tour for nine months out of the year, she was in the studio recording or in the gym or practicing a dance routine. But the Hart estate was really a home because they actually used the rooms instead of having them for show. “My parents should be in the living room,” Rylee said as she led Chynna there. And she was correct. Isaac and Madelyn Hart were sitting on a plush sofa. He was holding a tumbler of scotch, and his beautiful wife was holding a glass with red wine. Isaac Hart was an honest-looking man. He had a slightly receding salt-and-pepper hairline, a round face with a broad nose like Noah’s and big dimpled cheeks. Even though he was seated, Chynna could see where Noah got his stature and broad, but basketball-player-build, because he was his father’s spitting image.
