by V. Vaughn
I enter the room, which is also dark, and I gaze at the two men, who stare at me. My heart nearly bursts with a warm gush of emotions that makes me giddy, as if I’ve found a long-lost lover. Oh my god! Was my organ donor in love with one of these guys? They’re much younger than I expected, and I place the stockier one in his twenties. The other man is tall and lean, and I guess he could be early thirties. But he may just seem older to me because of his serious expression and stately posture.
“Oh, Sebastian,” says the one who appears to be younger, “look at her hair.” He steps up to me, and the thud of the doors at my back makes me feel abandoned by the silent woman. The man’s hand hovers in the air as he asks, “May I?”
I gaze into the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen, set into a face that has skin so pale it’s almost translucent. But he’s not delicate in stature. His broad shoulders and narrow hips make me think he’s hiding an athletic body. Just my type, and I resist the urge to purr with my attraction. “Ah.” I think he wants to touch my hair, so I say, “Sure.”
He tugs on one of my curls, which are a natural shade of red thanks to my Irish heritage, and when he lets go, he grins. “They bounce,” he says. My god, that mouth. His lower lip has a pouty plumpness that makes me want to nibble it. Hey, heart, I approve.
Sebastian watches us with a stony face, but while he appears to be disapproving, my heart responds when I look at him. My stomach sinks, because I think Sebastian is whom my heart wants. I inhale sharply at the effect he has on my body too. He’s definitely not the kind I go for. His stern look makes me think he’s not going to enjoy my sense of humor, and I’ll likely have to watch what I say around him. Even so, I gaze at Sebastian in a trance as the other man walks a circle around me and begins a rant about my cheap clothing being too tight around my hips but too big around my waist, as if I didn’t know. I’d be insulted, but the way this guy speaks, it’s as if my clothing choice is someone else’s fault. I’m too mesmerized by Sebastian to care. My legs propel me forward as if I’m a marionette being controlled by someone else, and I hold out my hand as I say, “Maggie Evans, and you must be Mr. Hart.”
2
After I introduce myself to Sebastian, he doesn’t take my hand or look at it. Instead he stares at me as though I’m something the cat dragged in. My heart deflates as if I’ve disappointed him.
The chatty man chuckles and says, “Hmm, seems you’ve left my brother speechless, Margaret. Interesting.”
I continue to stare at Sebastian, and my heart begs me to go to him and hold him in my arms as if I need to apologize. I’m not sure what I’ve walked into here. But I’m not leaving until I find out.
The talkative guy has finished his assessment of my clothing and says, “I’m Alexander Hart.” At least someone here is friendly, and I smile as I say, “Call me Maggie.”
Sebastian says—no, he commands, “We’ll be calling you Margaret. For now.”
I glare at him for a second before I hide my anger from my new boss. Hey, heart. This guy doesn’t seem so into us. What gives? Of course I don’t get an answer, and I wonder if maybe she was in love with Sebastian and he never returned her feelings. As if that’s not going to be awkward. I nod and smile when I remember I’m an employee and it’s a good idea not to piss off your boss the first time you meet him. I say, “Margaret.” God, I hate that name. It reminds me of doctors who never seemed to have good things to tell me, and I wonder if he knows it.
His eyes are a deeper shade of green than his brother’s, but his skin is just as pale. It’s striking and matches the strong angles of his face. The Hart brothers are very attractive men, each in their own way. But when Sebastian steps close to tower over me, he becomes something more sinister. Pain flashes over his face, and if I hadn’t spent my life standing strong despite my weakness, I would crumble under his intimidating presence. That doesn’t stop me from shaking, and I tense up to stop it from showing.
He says, “Dinner is in an hour. I suggest you unpack and change your clothes.” He turns to his brother. “Alexander, show Margaret to her room.”
My shoulders drop as I leave happily, and I’d be tempted to keep right on walking out the door if it weren’t for Alexander. He grabs my bag and climbs up the stairs before me. He says, “You’re going to love it here. Wait until you see your view.” I grab the handrail, and it’s firm in my grip. This one’s working just fine. I watch his butt flex as he moves ahead of me.
He takes me up to the top floor, where the ceilings are low. My room is on the right, and he opens a darkly stained wooden door to reveal a space similar to a small living room. The colors are cranberry and faded pinks with lots of cream. There’s a love seat and large chair with an ottoman, along with a coffee table and small bookcase, which is empty. Another door leads to my bedroom. It’s even brighter, in mostly white with small splashes of purple in the floral comforter and throw pillows. The three floor-to-ceiling windows along the wall are what capture my attention and make me gasp. I walk over to one and gaze out at the glittering ocean. I place my hand on the glass, and it’s cool under my fingers as I say, “Wow.”
“Oh good.” I turn to Alexander, and his eyes get big for dramatic effect. He’s at the far side of the room, where it’s barely illuminated by the windows. “This would have been horrid if you had a fear of the water.”
“Yes.” I smile at him.
Alexander walks over to a doorway, and it leads to a small room that appears to be a closet and dressing room, with racks for clothing and shoes, as well as a standing full-length mirror. I notice the bathroom is just beyond it. There are only a few items of clothing, and he says, “Roland is coming tomorrow to fit you.” A hanger clatters as he lifts an emerald-green silk dress and holds it up for me. It’s long, and the cut is slender. The silk shimmers as I notice a neckline high enough to cover my scar. “This is what you should wear to dinner,” he says.
I reach out, and the fabric is luxuriously soft on my fingers when I touch it. “It’s gorgeous.”
“Yes...” Alexander frowns as if he’s lost in thought. He snaps himself out of it and says, “Well then. I’ll let you get settled.” He steps into the bathroom, and I think he’s checking to make sure everything is okay. He comes back out and says, “The dining room is on the first floor, but we’ll have drinks in the study first. That’s the room where we just met.”
“Got it. Thank you.”
When he gets to the door, he stops and gazes at me as if he wants to say something, but instead he slaps the doorframe once before he leaves, and the solid door thuds shut behind him. I walk around my section of the house, which resembles an apartment. The floor is thick slabs of dark wood covered with floral throw rugs, and when I check out the bathroom, I sigh in pleasure. A large claw-foot tub gleams in an invitation to take a bath, and I long to soak in it. This room is also white, and it strikes me as odd how bright my space is compared to the rest of the mansion.
I return to my bedroom, and a drawer in my white dresser scrapes as I open it. A light scent of lilac wafts out, and I discover a small sachet along with three bra-and-panty sets. I lift up the fine lace, and it’s smooth under my fingers. While it looks functional, I don’t think I’ve ever held prettier lingerie. I remove the cream-colored set and place them on my bed to change into for dinner. When I pull out my plain cotton underwear from my bag, it appears worn and dowdy in comparison to what’s in my bureau, and I opt to put them back in my bag for now. I could easily become a snob at this rate.
I freshen up and get dressed for dinner. When I’m almost ready, I gaze at my reflection in the full-length mirror. The combination of wearing fabrics that caress my body and the fit of my dress makes me feel beautiful. I put my hair up, and when I recall Alexander saying my curls bounce, I tug a few out to frame my face. Then I think about Sebastian. My heart sends twinges of desire to the pit of my belly as I imagine his approval. I drag my finger down my chest over the silk dress, which covers my transplant scar. It tingles under my touch
as I wonder what my donor thinks is going to happen. Silly heart. I think pleasing Sebastian is going to be a difficult task that will take more than a pretty gown. I put on the black patent-leather pumps I find in my closet, and my heels click as I walk toward the door.
A girl could get a workout in this house just using the stairs. I descend three flights and take a deep breath to fill my lungs with much-needed oxygen before I make my way to the study. The doors are open, and the formality of the house makes me pause as if I’m eighteenth-century royalty who should make an entrance. I glance over at the two love seats set before a crackling fire.
Both men are standing by a wet bar off to the side, and Alexander places his hand on his chest when he sees me. “Simply stunning, Margaret.”
I walk toward them as my cheeks flush with heat. “Thank you.” I glance at Sebastian, and now my foolish heart makes my insides tremble, because he’s looking at me as if I am beautiful. He actually cracks a smile.
“Yes. You look lovely.”
I’m taken aback at this version of my boss and say, “Thank you, sir.”
“Sebastian.” His voice is warm and soft, and my heart is melting into a puddle as he says, “Please.”
I speak with the same softness. “Sebastian.” His name rolls off my tongue in a sensual way, and I have a sudden desire to keep repeating it.
Fortunately, before I can make a fool of myself, Alexander asks, “Would you like champagne or wine?”
The men appear to have red wine in their glasses, judging by the burgundy liquid, but I’d prefer the other option Sebastian presented me with and wonder how they know. I say, “Champagne would be wonderful and fitting for tonight. I feel as if I’ve stepped into a wonderful opportunity.”
A cork pops, and Sebastian says, “That’s because it is.”
A flicker of anger in my heart surprises me, but I’m distracted when Alexander hands me my glass, and I sip the bubbly liquid. It’s smooth in flavor, and I lick my lips after I swallow it down. “This is delicious.”
“Renault is one of my favorites too,” says Alexander. I meet his gaze, and a tiny tremor races through me.
I feel the weight of Sebastian’s gaze and turn to discover his eyes have narrowed, and I ask, “When do I find out what my duties are?”
He says, “Tomorrow. Tonight, we’d like to learn more about you.”
I smile. “I’m not sure what I can tell you that you don’t already know.” I think about the endless documents I had to produce for this job. “Besides the things I provided you, the social life of my grade-school years is documented on social media, which I’m sure you checked. My medical records tell you what I did when everyone else went off to universities and why I could only afford a community college education.”
“I want to know your dreams.” Sebastian lifts his glass of wine and swirls it as if he’s looking into its depths for answers. “Tell us, Margaret, what do you want out of life?”
To be loved by a man who makes me want for nothing else. I take a sip of my champagne to think for a moment about how to answer. “Most of my life, all I wanted was to be healthy so I could live. And when I got a new heart, all I wanted was for my body to accept it so I could live.” I shrug. “I guess now my goal is to really live.”
Alexander and Sebastian exchange glances that make me think they’re concerned. What about, I can’t imagine. It’s not as if I said I wanted to be a rock star or actress and they have to figure out how to let me down easy.
Sebastian says, “You’ll have to tell us what really living is for you, Margaret.”
The way he repeats my phrase sounds condescending, and I’d feel shamed if my heart didn’t trip over the attention. This day is getting stranger and stranger.
Alexander glances at his wrist, and I notice a square-shaped watch that looks like the latest technology. It seems odd he’d wear a plastic timepiece when his appearance suggests he’s an antique-watch kind of guy. His smile covers his face when he says, “Apparently you can teach an old dog new tricks.” He winks at me. “Bertha’s learning to text. It’s time for dinner.”
I guess he’s talking about the woman who greeted me earlier, and I stifle my laughter at him calling her an old dog. The way Sebastian’s glaring at Alexander tells me he is not amused by his brother. I think I was right about his lack of humor. Hey, heart, your love is kind of uptight. I follow Alexander as he leads us to the dining room.
The table is large enough for at least eight people, but it’s set for three. Sebastian cuts his brother off when he tries to seat me, and I let the older brother push my chair in as if I’m a child. I would be flattered if I believed they were fighting over me, but I think the power struggle is about something else.
3
Alexander takes the place across from me, while Sebastian sits at the head of the table. I glance between the two brothers and consider my situation. My heart is attracted to Sebastian, while I prefer Alexander. I’m sure I shouldn’t get involved with either one, but when you live life not knowing how much longer you’ve got, worrying about the future doesn’t matter. A tingle of excitement races through me as I swallow down the last of my champagne and smile. Bertha wheels in a rolling cart with plates that have fancy metal covers, and they rattle when she removes them. She presents us all with dinners arranged as if we’re at an expensive restaurant. I gaze down at my filet mignon set on top of what I think is potatoes, and there’s a side of asparagus. The aroma of the beef makes my mouth water as I wait for her to finish serving us. A decanter of red wine is on the table as well as a small carafe of white, and Bertha pours me a glass of the white before she fills the men’s glasses with more of the red.
I try to catch her eye, but she won’t look at me, so I say, “This looks wonderful. Thank you.”
The woman ignores me and stands by Sebastian. He says, “That will be all. Thank you, Bertha.”
When she leaves, we begin to eat. Silverware clatters as I cut my steak and do my best to chew slowly, because the meal is the best I’ve ever had. Going out to dinner wasn’t something Mom and I did, considering we were in a constant state of trying to make financial ends meet.
“How is your meal?” asks Sebastian.
“Delicious,” I say. I notice he and Alexander haven’t eaten much. “Is there something wrong with it?”
Alexander sighs dramatically. “I’m afraid we both prefer fish. I don’t know, Sebastian. It’s been so long since we’ve had beef, I fear I’ve lost the taste for it.”
Sebastian says, “Yes. Me too, I’m afraid.” He gazes at me. “Please don’t let us stop you, Margaret. There’s no sense in wasting a perfectly good dinner.”
“I’m not going to let you stop me. I haven’t had a steak this amazing ever.” I lift another bite to my mouth. The meat practically melts on my tongue, and while I could take or leave hamburger before, I’ve now gained a new appreciation for beef.
“Filet mignon is definitely the best cut, in my opinion,” says Alexander. “Now, I know some prefer a good rib eye or T-bone, but not me. Prime rib, on the other hand—”
Sebastian clears his throat, and Alexander stops talking. Sebastian says, “Let’s get back to what really living is for you, Margaret. You majored in English. Do you have any aspirations of becoming a writer?”
I take a sip of my wine and let the sweet flavor sit on my tongue before I swallow to wash down my food. I say, “I do like to write, but I haven’t experienced much to write about. I’m not sure the life of a child with heart disease is very fascinating.”
“Oh, you don’t need to experience something to write about it,” says Alexander. “Do you think Stephen King has ever murdered someone? Or witnessed the events he writes about?”
I chuckle. “No. I suppose not.”
Alexander taps his forehead. “It’s all in the imagination.” His gaze darts down to my chest and back up so quickly I’m not sure it happened. “You’re an adventurous girl taking a job in a place you’ve never been with men
you hadn’t met. I bet you have plenty of ideas you could write about.”
I think about the fantasies I had about what coming here would be like and smile, because I do have an active imagination. Sebastian asks, “What do you like to read?”
“Stephen King. Greg Iles. I’m a huge horror and murder-mystery fan.”
Alexander raises his eyebrows at me. “No romance?”
I shake my head. “God no. I don’t need to read about men tearing off women’s clothes and making them fall in love in an instant.”
Alexander tsks at me as he leans forward and says, “I think you need to be enlightened.”
His voice makes my body take notice, and a hint of desire flows through me as I wonder if he has ideas for me beyond books. Sebastian says, “Yes. Go find her something suitable to read tonight.”
I frown as Alexander’s chair scrapes across the floor, and he stands up. I never expected these two men would read romance. I turn to Sebastian. His lips turn up in a smile before he asks, “Surprised?”
“Yes. I would have pegged you as the literary type.”
“I read almost anything.” His gaze bores into me as he lifts his wine glass, and my heart directs my physical attraction I had for Alexander to Sebastian. I turn my attention back to my meal before he can tell.
Alexander’s feet thump lightly over the oriental carpet when he returns, and he hands me a book. It’s cool in my hands as I hold it. I read the cover out loud. “Teach Me, by Brock McGillis.”
