An Education in Scandal
A Somerset Novel
Isadora Brown
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
An Education in Punishment
Did You Like An Education in Scandal?
Acknowledgments
Also by Isadora Brown
Also by Isadora Brown
Also by Isadora Brown
Also by Isadora Brown
Also by Isadora Brown
Chapter 1
It would be a safe bet that he was first drawn to her smile; a smile that shined whether it was raining or sunny, night or day. He was unfamiliar with optimism; he had had a hard life while growing up. Despite having numerous resources at his feet and every means possible to get ahead, he knew that no matter what he decided to do in his life, no matter how successful he would become, there was always something he could do better. His father, a man he looked up to and wanted to one day become, was obsessed with perfection. Of course, this standard was impossible to meet, but like his father before him, the man continued to try and attain the unattainable.
In nearly one thousand years of life, Christian Stewart had accomplished many things. He graduated from Harvard’s prestigious Law School and was immediately hired on by his father as both vice president and the defense attorney of Stewart Enterprise, the family’s multi-billion-dollar company.
Father was a generous way to say Creator. His biological father died a long time ago. His uncle had turned him when he was thirty and took over as ruler of the small village that was located in what was now known as Wales. He had lost his accent since living in America since the seventeen hundreds, had cut his long chestnut brown hair short, and wore suits instead of cloth. He barely recognized himself now.
As vice president, he was in charge of hiring employees, distributing finances, and being the face of the company – in essence, he was the representative of Stewart Enterprise. He didn’t even want to think about all the work he had to do without replenishing with blood. And not the synthetic shit everyone was trying to sell, but the good kind. The one from a live human being – preferably a young human woman, with both stunning looks and sharp intelligence.
Luckily for him, there was a way for him to attain this donor. All he needed to do was put a request in, asking for specifications, the company The Red One would send him portfolios, he would choose who he liked, and fed. The problem was, Christian was looking for more than just blood. Studies were coming out about how important blood was – it transferred thoughts and feelings, emotions and intellect. He wanted to vet his potential donors, especially since he was willing to pay top price for the right one.
As such, he took a half-day from work, drove to his mansion on the outskirts of the city, where tall trees and wooded area surrounded the six-bedroom, one-floor mansion. It was built near the Black Woods, away from the few wolf packs that populated Somerset. He liked being alone, liked the quiet and the serenity being alone gave him.
She was the first applicant to walk through their doors and the only applicant he saw. If Christian had believed in love at first sight, he would have admitted that she had stolen his heart by merely flashing her smile. She had just turned twenty-one and had a sense of innocence about her. Her tresses were long and wavy, naturally tumbling down to the middle of her back. Her eyes were dark and colorful, sparkles adding to the hue of the iris much like flowers in a garden. Freckles splattered evenly on her heart-shaped face, revealing her Irish heritage. She was rather tall, coming in at five foot seven – if Christian had to guess, with long legs that reached all the way up to her neck. Dressed for the cold, Somerset winter weather, the young woman was wearing a colorful beanie that matched her knitted scarf. Underneath her heavy trench coat, Christian could make out at least two layers. Along with fitted jeans, she had on old pink and black converses.
“I moved here from Southern California a few years ago for college,” she explained with a genuine smile as she looked at him “and I’m not used to the cold yet.”
“What a time to move to Somerset,” Christian said with a slow smile crawling onto his face. “Why not go to school in California? There are plenty of prestigious options.”
If it were not for the cold-nipped red cheeks, a smooth blush would have spread across her cheeks. She glanced down at her now glove-free hands before an embarrassed smile slid onto her face and she looked back up at him.
“It was kind of spur of the moment, actually,” she replied honestly. “I mean, I’ve lived and breathed SoCal my whole life, so I decided to try something new, I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders to emphasize her point.
“Somerset University?” Christian asked. She looked young and he could hear the steady beating of her heart thrum inside of her like some sort of sick mating call.
“I just started my last year,” the young woman replied, nodding a couple of times. This caused loose strands of hair to fall into her face.
Before Christian could stop himself, he blatantly asked, “What do you want to do with your life, Miss Jarrett?”
“A writer,” the young woman stated simply, before shrugging her shoulders and smiling the question away.
The interview continued much like this, with Christian asking questions and the interviewee responding honestly, a smile glued to her face other than a couple of surprised stares at the connotation of a couple of his questions. He remained quiet and calculating, studying the young woman before him rather intricately. She reminded him of a painting; it was obvious that she was beautiful, but he couldn’t quite understand his enchantment with her. As such, he began to notice little things about her as he watched her; the way a few strands of hair kept falling into her face as she spoke, the way two dimples appeared and disappeared in a diagonal direction framing her chin, the way her face lit up upon speaking of things that genuinely pleased her, and as a result, noticed that it was much harder to breathe as he continued to watch her.
“I like her,” Christian stated once the young woman had been shown out and he had called The Red One back. “Cancel the rest of my appointments. I want her.”
The voice on the other line paused. “She is different,” the woman mentioned, and then sighed, “but I guess that’s not always a bad thing. She’s not our typical sort of donor. She’s inexperienced. Fresh meat, so to speak.”
”Do you know why she applied to be a donor?” Christian asked, his curiosity piqued. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten to ask her himself. Then again, it wasn’t exactly polite to ask such a direct question. Christian waited patiently, slipping one hand into his pocket.
“Student loans, I think,” the voice replied. “Although I do think I remember her grandparents died and her family is drowning in medical bills.”
Christian made a hum before saying, “I’ll have my guy run a full background check but if everything checks out, I want her,” he told her. “Please, hold her for me. I’ll tr
ansfer a one k deposit to you as we speak.” He pressed a few buttons on his phone. “Done.”
A pause. “You have seventy-two hours,” the voice replied, “or she’s back on the market.”
--
Christian walked into work that day with the hopes that Barry, a colleague of his, had actually done the background check already, despite the fact that it took a couple of days to complete. He stepped inside the elevators and headed up to the forty-second floor.
The elevator dinged, noisily distracting him from his daydream, and the steal metal doors slid open, as though to welcome him from his home away from home. Christian quickly inhaled, as though he was preparing himself for what he knew was going to be another long day. Stepping out, he shot his secretary, Izzy, a forced smile, hoping to avoid the woman completely.
Izzy Carmichael was twenty-nine years old, with only her last name working for her. She wasn’t anything special, but because she was wealthy, she managed to get married a couple of years ago. Of course, this did not prevent her from having the biggest, most obvious thing for her boss. She was hired on as Christian’s personal secretary as a favor to her father, who wanted to teach his daughter what it was like to work in the real world. Izzy made just above minimum wage, but it would appear that she didn’t seem to mind. Along with the fact that she didn’t need the money, she really didn’t have to do that much work, and she found that she was rather lucky that she got paid to sit around and watch a good-looking guy. She knew she wasn’t quite aesthetically appealing, but she played up her greatest (and her most expensive) asset which she knew would doubtlessly always draw attention to herself; her double-d breasts. It was a well-known fact that Izzy was notorious for showing up to work in push-up bras and low-cut shirts. This, of course, accomplished Izzy’s main goal. Many men made it a point to walk past her desk so that they could look down her shirt, except, of course, the man that she dressed up for in the first place. Rarely did Christian give her the time of day.
Today wasn’t any different.
“Do I have any messages, Izzy?” he asked as he headed to his nearby office.
Izzy sprang up from her desk with a couple of post-its between her fire-engine red acrylic nails. “Why, yes!” she called after him, skillfully maneuvering around her work area in five-inch-high heels. “Barry Stabler called; he finished the project you requested of him. Your uncle wants to know if you’ve finished the briefing yet. And that’s it.” She flashed him her most charming smile, but Christian did not seem to notice.
“Hold my calls,” Christian told her rather distractedly, shifting his briefcase into his left hand so he could run his fingers through his hair. “I’m going to go see Barry about that project. I should be back in a few minutes.”
“And what about your uncle?” Izzy called as he disappeared into his office. He emerged from his office thirty seconds later, trench coat and briefcase free.
“Tell him I’ll have it done by the end of the week,” he said and then gave her a quick but genuine smile.
“Sh-sure,” she stuttered, watching him wistfully walk back over towards the elevators.
Whatever Barry had finished for Christian was obviously making the man… happy.
Chapter 2
Barry Stabler had gone to college with Christian. He had been with Christian since Wales, Christian’s uncle turning Barry and the majority of the village – only those he thought would survive. They had been in the same fraternity, had taken the same classes, and from time to time, dated the same girls. In fact, the only difference between the two was the fact that Christian’s family was wealthy and well-known while Barry’s family was neither. He had gone to Harvard due to his grades and managed to get an athletic scholarship due to his swimming abilities. Barry was single and focused on his desk job at Stewart Enterprise. The two were friends only by association. For both of them, it had been easier just to befriend the other. Usually, they spoke of work and politics, money and women. Barry had quite the wandering eye, and was one of Izzy’s biggest fans.
“You said you got that thing done?” Christian asked vaguely, stepping inside Barry’s rather spacious cubicle.
“First off, you have to tell me why you had me run a background check on this girl,” Barry said, turning slightly in his computer chair so he could look up at Christian. “She’s a babe, Chris.”
“I’m looking into donors,” he explained. “My last one didn’t quite work out.”
Barry smiled a knowing smile. “You just don’t like to share,” he pointed out, which wasn’t entirely a lie.
Christian paid well to have exclusive rights to a donor. It took him a long time to find one he wanted and he felt that because his expectations were so high, it would only make sense to keep his donor fresh and clean. He didn’t want anyone’s fangs inside of her except his.
Barry snorted and rolled his eyes as his stubby fingers typed furiously away on his keyboard. “You and your thorough research on blood donors,” he said over his shoulder. “Blood is like pussy – anything will do as long as it gives you what you need.”
“What are you, a wise guy now?” Christian asked and then gently smacked his friend on the back of his head. “Pull up her profile so we can get this over with.”
“Well, when you do hire her - which you will, because let’s face it; she’s hot - you better start inviting me over more often because if you ain’t gonna tap her ass, I sure as hell will,” Barry said just as he pulled up the necessary information Christian had asked for. Then he began to list off the basics. “First name: Maggie Rose Jarrett. Date of birth: October 24. Went to high school at University High, which is in Irvine, California. Completed her first year of college at Irvine Valley (I guess that’s some kind of junior college), and – damn! She currently has a GPA of 4.0. I don’t think I ever had a 4.0 at Harvard.”
“I don’t think you ever had a 3.0,” Christian retorted, his eyes skimming over the computer screen.
“Ha ha,” Barry replied dryly. “Yeah, but this girl – she’s definitely worth hiring. She worked for a movie theatre for a little over two years and then tutored Korean kids, helping them with their English. No police record or anything like that. She’s good to go… if you know what I mean.” He wiggled his eyebrows devilishly, a mischievous smirk on his face.
Christian smacked him on the back of the head once again. “Will you shut up with that kind of thing?” he asked his friend with obvious annoyance.
“All right, all right,” Barry said, shrugging his shoulders and glanced back at the screen before looking back up at Christian. “Hey. Wanna see some pictures of her? I hacked into her Facebook profile.”
“I just wanted a background check, not for you to start stalking her!” Christian exclaimed quietly, wary of any employees who wanted to overhear their conversation. However, even he could not draw his eyes away from the newly opened window.
“Hey, Facebook provides a real look at people,” Barry explained defensively. “Don’t you try and tell me that you’ve never checked somebody’s Facebook to make sure they weren’t a closet whore or some drunk or a crack head or something.”
Christian didn’t even bother to dignify that comment with a response. It didn’t matter anyway; he had already begun to go through her pictures. There were seven Profile Pictures Barry went through. The first one was her official picture. There she was, standing to a wax figurine of Johnny Depp, probably from Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum here in New York. Her hair was pulled away from her face and a scarf was wrapped around her neck. A content smile was on her face, as though she was at peace with everything in her life. Christian could not remember a time when he looked as peaceful as she did in her picture. Her head was tilted at a slight angle, resting upon Johnny Depp’s shoulder, and her arm was slipped through his. She was dressed comfortably – warmly – with a ‘No Ma’am’ t-shirt over a long-sleeved pink shirt and jeans.
The next picture was taken of her side, with her head turned so that it was facing the c
amera. Her long, untamable hair tumbled down around her. On top of her head, there was an assortment of bubbles that oddly resembled snow. The thing he first noticed, however, was her smile. It was big, revealing a set of straight teeth, and lit up her whole face. Even merely looking upon it, Christian could feel the corners of his own lips curl up. She definitely had a contagious smile. For a moment, he could see nothing but that smile.
The next five pictures were at various locations. One was in front of the Disneyland castle at night; it must have been winter, for the whole castle was lit up with snowy decorations. Another was taken during the summer, again at Disneyland, with the character Captain Jack Sparrow. She was obviously a Johnny Depp fan. The next one she took of herself; she looked as though she was on her way to her high school graduation. Her eyes popped in that picture, probably due to the fact that she was wearing black eyeliner. She wasn’t very concerned with make-up, he began to realize. The next one was of her right before her senior prom. She was wearing a long, green dress, sitting on a bench.
God, she was beautiful, he mused silently to himself.
The last one was of her with a friend in the backseat of a car, that same, content smile on her face. There had been no outrageous, compromising pictures. She seemed to be a wholesome girl, which was definitely good considering feeding was such an intimate act between two people – probably the most intimate act save for actual sex.
“No sexy pictures or nothing,” Barry said, clicking out of the browser window. He glanced over his shoulder, up at his boss and friend. “But dammit if she doesn’t have a pretty face.”
Although Christian didn’t verbally respond, he had to agree. Maggie Jarrett definitely had a pretty face.
“Thanks,” Christian said, and then clapped his friend on the back.
“Yeah, no problem,” Barry replied. “Hey, but you gotta start inviting me over to your place more often, okay?” He swiveled around in his computer chair to make sure Christian had heard him, but the man had already left.
An Education in Scandal: A Somerset Novel (Somerset Series Book 5) Page 1
