by Scott, S. L.
“Yes?”
“I wasn’t threatening you. I was warning you, so you can save yourself.”
I had accepted my fate the day I met him. “Like you once said, it’s already too late for me.”
Our eyes hold long enough for reality to sink in. He bows his head as he ducks out, his gaze falling with his expression. The door is closed as he leaves me in the quarters built for a king’s prince, with ghosts of his troubled life keeping me company.
I close my eyes and pull the covers tight under my chin. The bed feels too big without his presence filling it. My worries are bigger. Can I save him before he destroys himself and me along with him? Will he ever feel true happiness, soul-searing joy in the life he’s living? Or will I always be left with these unsettled emotions twisted in my gut?
He’s always kept secrets from me, but now they seem too big for him to suppress. This mansion hidden behind a long drive and expansive lawns, wrought iron gates, and security cameras, holds the key to Alexander’s peace of mind and I’m determined to find it before his past overshadows his future.
8
Sara Jane
When I wake up, the space next to me is still empty. Alexander hasn’t returned. I glance to the clock and it’s just past eight. The sun is shining and I can’t sleep anymore. I take my phone from the nightstand, text Alexander, and head into the bathroom to take a shower. I love days when I don’t have classes until late morning. Not having to rush lets me ease into the busyness that will be this afternoon.
After my shower, I head for the closet where I’ve taken over a small section in the corner. But I stop on the way when something white catches my eye by the door.
An envelope.
Walking closer, my name is printed, not written, but printed on the front. I bend down and pick it up, curious to what it is. Opening it, I read:
Sara Jane,
Please join me for breakfast at 9 a.m. sharp in the dining room.
With Regards,
Alexander Kingwood III
It’s not a request. I have a feeling I don’t have much choice. This is a demand. I stare at the invitation, reading it again and again. I’ve never spent time with Alexander’s father alone. Maybe I won’t be. Maybe Alexander will be there too.
Do I RSVP or just show up in the dining room? Butterflies turn to bees in my stomach, and I feel sick. This is so far out of my comfort zone that I don’t want to go. Why now? After years. Why does he want to speak with me now? I can’t let my worries get ahead of me.
Shit. What do I wear? I rush into the closet and look at what’s available. There’s not much that isn’t shorts or jeans with a T-shirt. I find one cute blouse and my nicest jeans with a pair of flats. This will have to work. I rush back into the bathroom, realizing how much time I squandered in the shower when I thought I had a lazy morning.
Once my hair and makeup are done, I get dressed and check my phone. No calls. No messages. Where are you, Alexander?
After doing one last check in the full-length mirror, I open the door and head down the hall. I pass by the four guest rooms, which never host guests, and start down the wide staircase. Really, the house, the manor, with its ornate wooden banisters that curtain the staircase, the elegant and refined receiving room, and high, elaborately decorated ceilings, is incredibly impressive. It has lost its luster somewhat over the years for me. I used to think it palatial, but now it feels like a mausoleum. Sad somehow. Like its inhabitants. I cross through the main entry and pass the living room. When I reach the dining room, which I’ve only been in one other time since coming here the first time, I stop in the doorway.
Sitting at the head of a table that seats twenty, sits Alexander Kingwood III. Without looking up from the tablet in front of him, he says, “Please take a seat, Ms. Grayson.” My Alexander looks so similar: his facial structure, his light eyes, the broad shoulders. The coldness I’ve seen frequently when Alexander interacts with others, has never been directed toward me.
That coldness is in his father’s eyes now, though. He gestures to the left to let me know where he wants me. I walk farther inside and reach to pull the chair out, but he rises and says, “Allow me.”
He picks up the intricately carved wooden chair and moves it back for me. I quickly slip in and am tucked neatly under the table. When I look at the space between my legs and the arms of the chairs I feel small and wonder if he picked this setting to intimidate me or to actually get to know me.
The door from the kitchen is gently swung open and a lovely looking woman with chestnut eyes and shiny brown hair walks in. She wears bright red lipstick, and I consider complimenting her on the shade. But I’m too nervous to even speak, much less act like I belong here.
Plates are set in front of us—an omelet, strawberries, and wheat toast. Juice has already been poured and coffee steam wafts above the mug in front of me.
“Is there anything else you require?” he asks. When I reply no, the lady disappears and he picks up his fork. “Please eat before it gets cold.” He sets it down again and a smile that reminds me of my Alexander’s shows up, my guard going down. “Where are my manners? A pretty woman joins me for breakfast and I forget them completely. Good morning, Ms. Grayson. Thank you for joining me.”
“Thank you for the invitation, though I must admit I was surprised by it.” I study his reaction while cutting my omelet.
“Sometimes this house gets lonely. My son is rarely home anymore. I heard you were here and decided to take the opportunity.” He takes a bite of fruit as if we eat every meal together, as if we know each other at all.
“Speaking of Alexander, will he not be joining us?”
His eyes flash to mine, an eyebrow ticking up. “I sent him a text earlier, but he is too busy apparently. I would have thought you’d have spoken to him.”
I will be now—for putting me in such an awkward position. “He was letting me sleep in. I had a late night.” I add, “Studying.”
“How are your classes going? Are you on track to graduate next year?”
“Yes, my course load is heavy, but I’m doing well.”
“Alex tells me you’re intellectually gifted, that you make good grades without cracking a book.”
“Your son is too kind, but it’s he who does well without much effort.”
“He always did take the easy way out.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I know what you meant. Alex is . . . a lot like his mother. He has so much on his mind except what he should.”
After hearing last night how his father would make his wife leave Alexander, I inwardly growl. But wanting so desperately to know more about my boyfriend, I ask what I know I shouldn’t, “In what ways?”
Mr. Kingwood looks at me, but in the corner of my eyes I see his grip tighten around the silverware in his hand. “His heart. It’s too soft. He’ll end up getting hurt if he’s not careful.”
“Hurt by what?”
“Not by what. By whom.” He takes his napkin and wipes his mouth. After leaning back on his throne, he says, “I think you’re well aware that this is not as casual an invite as I’d like it to be.”
I mimic his actions, sitting back. “I had hopes it would be.”
That brings a smile to his face that’s more relaxed. “You’ve been dating my son for many years considering how young you both are. Was it at the holiday party where we first met? Even after seeing you several times since, I don’t really know you, Ms. Grayson. I assumed you were a mere passing fascination. One Alex would get over.” Fascination, not fancy, like the phrase. “But here you are in my house, even when my son is not, as if you’re a resident here.”
“I’m not sure what to say.”
“I’m not looking for answers regarding your sleeping arrangement with my son. That is between the two of you. What I am looking for are answers regarding your future with my son. That involves me.”
“I didn’t know you were involved with your son at all.”
&nb
sp; “He said you were feisty. You look so meek that I didn’t believe him. I owe him an apology.”
“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I’m not going anywhere. If you need confirmation of that, you’ll have to speak to Alexander.”
“My wife used to call me Alexander when everyone else called me Alex or Mr. Kingwood.” There’s a distance in his eyes as if he’s looking right through me at the ghost of his wife.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
His eyes focus again, the earlier smile has vanished. “I worry about my son.”
“So do I.”
“Loving him has never been easy.”
“I hear the same about you.”
His palm flattens on the shiny surface of the table, the silverware clinking together from the motion. “I’m going to be very blunt with you, Ms. Grayson. I love my son despite what he tells you. He is my only family, my only blood relative. As such, I’ve afforded him the lifestyle that a Kingwood should have. You’re smart. Pretty, but what keeps you coming back? What is it about my son that keeps you tied so tightly to that relationship when he’s out most nights destroying it?” He knows? He knows Alexander leaves me most nights?
I gulp, my weakness under his glare evident, but I stand my ground because I know the answer in my heart. I know why Alexander would never hurt me despite the accusation from his father. “Love.”
“That simple? It’s a foolish emotion.”
“Maybe to you. To me, it’s everything. I love him, but there’s nothing simple about it.”
He lifts the electronic tablet that had been discarded to the side of his plate, and pulls out an envelope, tapping it three times on the table. “I know you think I don’t care about Alex, but I do. Very much. He’s the last tie I have to my wife.”
“I thought that was Kingwood Enterprises?”
“You know more than you let on.”
“I only know what Alexander shares with me.”
“You’re better off, unless pillow talk is a regular occurrence.”
“Any secrets he shares with me will always remain secret.”
“If I’ve learned anything in life, it’s that secrets are never truly kept private unless you never tell anyone. The second is that everyone comes with a price. What’s yours?”
My offense comes in the form of a sucked-in gasp. I refuse to let him rattle me anymore though. “I suppose you don’t know much about me or my relationship with Alexander, but money has never been a factor that tied us together.” I watch as he crosses his arms over his chest and listens intently. “My family isn’t poor.”
“Your family makes a modest income compared to Alexander’s.”
“My family makes enough to pay for my schooling,” I reply defensively. “I went to a private school and although I’ve earned scholarships for my college education, my parents easily bridge the gap in finances. We may not live in a manor, but our home is nice.”
“Your home is nice. Your father works hard and is quite respected in town. How’s his practice?”
An ache fills my hands, and I look down to find my knuckles white from squeezing the arms of the chair so hard. I scoot it back, toss my napkin on the table, and stand. “I should get to class before I’m late.”
“You and I both know you don’t have class until eleven.”
My lips part but I stop my jaw from dropping. “I’m trying to be respectful, Mr. Kingwood, but I’m not comfortable being interrogated about my family.”
“My apologies,” he says, standing up. “Please stay. I would like to talk to you about Alex.”
“I may be young, but I recognize a trap when I see one. Did you really text Alexander?”
“I did.” He chuckles to himself. “I actually would have liked him here. By your reaction he’s really sold you his story, but there’re always two sides.”
“I agree, but I trust him.”
“Would you like to hear mine?”
“Not without him here.”
He chuckles to himself. “You don’t need a protector from me.”
Our eyes hold steady though my hand shakes under the pressure, and I lose when I look down.
“I’m not the enemy, Sara Jane.” My gaze darts up when my name is mentioned as if we’re friends. “I hoped my son was smart enough to not involve you where he shouldn’t.” He sits back down when I do. “It appears he’s involved you. Your insider knowledge could be costly.”
“I would never betray him.”
“What about me? Will you betray me?”
Not knowing if it’s a rhetorical question I let it lie like the crumbs from the toast on the shiny wood surface.
“I’m selling the company. With that, I need every part of my life in order or investors will expect to bargain. I don’t bargain. I want full value.”
“And what do I have to do with your business?”
“Alex is pivotal to this transaction going smoothly, or if we section it off into several transactions. As my son’s girlfriend, you play a part. Whether you’re willing to do that or not is your choice, but I need to know by the weekend. We’re hosting an event.” He hands me the envelope. “Here’s your invitation.” He stands all the way up this time, looking down on me. “Please consider the ramifications if you decide to stay in my son’s life. They’re bigger than you might have imagined when you were seventeen and falling for the bad boy. There are skeletons that need to remain hidden behind closed doors. I can’t afford to have”—his cough interrupts him—“any weak links.” Walking to the door, he turns back. “Good luck on your test, Ms. Grayson. Good day.”
With the envelope in my hand, I watch him walk out of the room. I’m not alone for long. The woman from earlier enters again, and says, “No rush to leave, and let me know if I can get you anything.”
“Thank you, but I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
Understanding brushes across her features as she reaches for my plate. “He can be quite kind, but when it comes to his family or business, he’s the hardest they come.”
I stand with the envelope held in my hands. “He doesn’t scare me. I love Alexander too much to be scared away that easily.”
“I know. Everyone knows, including Mr. Kingwood, or he wouldn’t have invited you to breakfast.”
“So this is his way of welcoming me into the family?”
She laughs. “No, but its one step closer.” Holding out her hand, she smiles at me. “I’m Neely.”
While shaking her hand, I introduce myself, “I’m Sara Jane Grayson.”
“Nice to officially meet you.”
“Have you worked here long?”
“Long enough to understand his motives.”
“And what are those?”
“Money and blood.”
“But at what cost and whose blood?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“Why have we never met?”
She smiles with the plate in hand and the door to the kitchen pushes open with her foot. “My job assignment is to take care of Mr. Kingwood’s every need. We have staff to run the rest of the house and to care for Alex.”
Every need? I look at her bright, wide-set eyes and the fullness of her red lips, the white blouse with the top button open and the tight black skirt. I shouldn’t assume, but my mind goes straight to salacious. “His needs?”
The grin on her face broadens. “Almost.”
Okay. It’s not my business and after what just happened with him, I don’t want to know more. Extricating myself from his line of sight is the best thing I can do. Focus on school. Focus on Alexander. Forget the rest. Block it out. Be strong and just forget this morning. I walk to the entrance of the dining room. “Thank you for breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.”
When I reach the top of the stairs, I dash down the long hall to Alexander’s room. With the door closed behind me, and my back securely against the wood, I rip open the envelope and pull out the invitation, my eyes scanning the details.
Saturday night.
Kingwood Manor.
Why would Alexander not tell me? Is he going? Why would he not invite me? I tuck it inside my backpack and zip it closed before changing clothes and hurrying out of here as fast as I can. I never felt unsafe here, until now. The walls, it seems, have eyes and ears. I need to find Alexander immediately.
As soon as I reach my car, I lock the doors and start the engine. I quickly type a text to him to meet me on campus in front of the business building in thirty minutes.
It doesn’t take long to find a parking spot, but it’s not close to the main campus. I park anyway, hoping the walk will give me time to calm my nerves. After hiking up a steep hill, I take a deep breath and let it out before crossing the quad. Alexander. The man I love, the man who wasn’t in his bed this morning when I woke, the man who didn’t bother to text me back, is here. With some girl. Standing too close for my liking. When I approach, Alexander looks up and raises his chin, standing tall when he sees me.
I struggle to keep my jaw from dropping when I see Maya. Her hand is on his chest and she’s laughing. Why? Why is she here and why are they talking? They don’t even know each other. Was it not just yesterday when she saw him for the first time? The coincidence seems a little too uncanny. Did he not connect the dots and realize she is the girl I said had called him cute? He would flip out if I were hanging out with a guy who had shown interest in me the day before.
After the confrontational breakfast with his father, I’m in no mood to fight off her advances when she knows he’s taken. All my twisted emotions from this morning tighten and coil. I’m a viper ready to strike. My eyes meet Maya’s and her hand drops quickly to her side, but when I look at him, Alexander’s eyebrow quirks and his head tilts. He thinks this is funny?
Like the guilty always do, Maya speaks too fast, “Hey, Sara Jane. I’m late for class. Nice talking, Alexander. Maybe I’ll see you around.” She ignores me completely and leaves.
With five feet remaining between Alexander and me, I stop. “We need to talk.”
“Rough morning?” When I scowl, his smile is instantly gone. “Whoa! Settle down.”
