Love You Always

by Lorin, Terra

  “Do you play chess?” my sis asks.

  “Oh, I’m afraid not.” A small frown curves her lips.

  “It’s okay. It’s only because I’m stuck inside this house that I have to engage in indoor games.” Angela looks over at me. “Marcus is such a sweetheart. I know chess isn’t his game, but he makes time to play with me a round or two. Of course, I always beat him, so maybe that’s why it’s not his favorite game.”

  “What? I let you win. If I don’t, you’re all pouty for the rest of the day.”

  Sis slaps me on the arm. “I am not pouty!”

  I laugh at her outrage.

  “Okay, so I’m exaggerating. Maybe pouty is too strong a word. How about ‘sour puss’?”

  “Oh, you!” She slaps me again.

  Laura laughs at our sibling banter.

  “Do you have brothers or sisters, Laura?” I ask her as I shy away from my sister’s abuse.

  Her bright eyes go dim. I must’ve hit a sensitive spot.

  “I have a sister, but my brother died two years ago.”

  “Oh. I’m so sorry to hear that,” I say with as much sincerity as I can feel. I know what she’s going through.

  “We had a brother too,” Angela informs her, her voice soft and sad.

  “I’m so sorry,” Laura says, her eyes full of compassion as she glances at my sister and then at me.

  “How old is your sister?” I ask.

  “She’s seventeen.”

  “She’s still in high school then.”

  She nods her head. “Yes.”

  “Are you two close?” Angela asks.

  “Not so much anymore. We used to be closer before our brother died. Something changed in her after that. She doesn’t seem to want to talk to me anymore.”

  “That’s too bad. Maybe someday, when she’s older, she’ll realize how important you are to her.” I give her an encouraging smile.

  “I sure hope so.” Her smile show signs of hope, yet uncertainty.

  I’m curious to know what happened to her brother, but I don’t pry. If she wants to tell us, she’ll volunteer it. She must be feeling the same way about David, since she isn’t asking about him either.

  “I’m leaving in two days. Will you be able to start tomorrow? That way, I’ll be able to help you with anything you might need before I go.”

  “Yes, I sure can.” Her eyes then look at me quizzically. “You sure you don’t need to ask me any further questions?”

  “Why? Are you hiding something? Are you a mass murderer?” I joke with her.

  “No, of course not. A psychopath maybe, but I’ve not got enough kills under my belt to be deemed a mass murderer.” She beams me a playful smile.

  “Thank God. For a minute there, I thought maybe you lure your victims with your radiant smile, then tie them up and torture them into a slow death by dangling chocolate in front of their noses.”

  “Hmm, I might have to try that sometime,” she says as she rubs her chin in contemplation.

  “Okay, you two, stop with the mention of chocolate, because now I’ve got a craving,” scolds Angela.

  We all laugh.

  “Well, what do you say, Angie? Do we hire Ms. Psychopath? Or do we go with Ms. Porcupine?”

  “Oh, hands down, we go with Ms. Psychopath. No doubt about that. I’d rather be tortured with chocolate than my butt poked by a thorny critter.”

  Laura’s eyes go wide.

  Angela and I laugh.

  “Okay, that sounded a bit weird, Angela,” I say to my sis. She can say the most absurd things sometimes. I wonder where she gets her sense of humor from.

  I turn my attention back to Laura. “Looks like you’ve got the job, if you think you can handle my sister’s sense of humor.”

  “Doesn’t seem like her sense of humor’s any worse than mine,” she replies with a chuckle. “Now, yours on the other hand . . .”

  “Well, it’s a good thing that I’m going to be out of town then and out of both your hairs. I just shudder to think what I’m in for when I return. My sister better not be turned into Ms. Frankenstein’s monster.”

  “No, not the monster,” she says, “but maybe Ms. Igor.”

  “Hmm, that might actually be an improvement for Angela.”

  “What?!” Again, my sister slaps me. “If my brother wasn’t such a prince of a guy, I’d disown him.”

  “And just who are you going to harass if you do?”

  “You’ve got a point there, brother.”

  I put an arm around my sis and give her an affectionate squeeze. Laura smiles at us fondly.

  I think we’ve just found us a companion for Angela.

  Chapter 3 - Laura

  ~* Laura *~

  I’m glad yesterday’s interview went well and they gave me the position. Marcus is so handsome. For a moment, when he opened the door, I couldn’t take my eyes off his face. I hope I wasn’t too conspicuous—how embarrassing. And, oh my, falling onto his hard chest gave my insides a flutter. I could tell by just the feel of him—that man is adequately buffed.

  I also loved the way he interacted with his sister. There’s no doubt how close they are. It was evident that Angela adores her brother and looks up to him.

  Angela seems great. She’s spunky and cheerful. I would never guess she has a disorder. I have a good feeling we’re going to get along just fine, and I’m looking forward to getting to know her more.

  I look at my watch. Yikes, I’d better get packing. I’m to be at their home by one o’clock, and it’s already eleven fifteen. They’re about a twenty-minute drive from here, so that’s not too bad. Marcus wants to go over some things with me before he leaves tomorrow. It’ll be nice to spend a day with him. I’m definitely attracted to this man—he’s gorgeous, treats his sister like a princess, has a great sense of humor, and seems to have his shit together. I wonder what kind of business he’s in. I’m sure Angela will tell me more about him during my two-week stay there. I can’t wait.

  * * *

  “Is that all you’ve brought with you?” Marcus asks me when he sees the one small luggage and hand-carry I have with me.

  “I’m a light traveler,” I tell him.

  “Angela used to pack a cargo whenever she’d go anywhere. If she ever gets out of this house again, she could learn a thing or two from you,” he says, shooting me a smile.

  He picks up my luggage and takes my hand-carry from me.

  “I can carry that,” I protest, trying to hang on to it, but he manages to pull it away from me.

  “Nothing doing. Bad enough you carried these to our doorstep, I’m not about to have you lug them upstairs. That’s my job.”

  Oh my, he’s gallant, too. What more can a girl ask for? This guy is almost too good to be true. But of course, I’ve just met him, and it takes a while before a person shows their true colors, so maybe my inflated perceptions about him will deflate a little as I get to know him better. And for all I know, he may already have a girlfriend, so I might be getting all worked up for nothing. God, I hope not, but we’ll see.

  “Follow me and I’ll show you to your room.”

  I shut the front door before tailing behind Marcus as he ascends the polished, dark wooden staircase. Their home is quaint and kempt. The interior is cozy, and the exterior is beautiful Victorian style architecture. When I was a little girl, I had a dollhouse similar to this.

  “This will be your room,” Marcus announces as we step into a bedroom twice the size of my own.

  “Is this a master bedroom?” I ask as I look around the room.

  “No, it’s just a guest bedroom.”

  “It is huge.” Damn. I just gave away the size of my bedroom. We must seem poor compared to them. Our house isn’t exactly shabby, but this house definitely out-leagues it.

  “Well, if you get lost, just use the intercom and someone will be at your rescue,” he jests.

  “I’ll make an attempt to find my
way out first. I normally don’t call for rescue until I’ve exhausted my resources.”

  “Oh, an independent woman, are you?”

  “Yes, I’ve had to handle a lot in my life, so I guess independence sort of grew on me.”

  “That’s good. It means you know how to survive on your own.”

  “I do the best I can, anyway.”

  “Do you live on your own?” he asks.

  “When I’m on semester breaks, I’m home with my dad and sister. While I’m away at college, I dorm. I graduate next semester, so at that time, I’ll look for a full-time job and then rent a place.”

  “Are you planning to stay in your hometown after you graduate?”

  “I was thinking that I would. Unless I get a lucrative job offer elsewhere, I’ll probably stay close to home. But I wouldn’t mind venturing elsewhere if the opportunity arose. I’m pretty flexible in that regard.”

  “I see.”

  “How about you? What do you do?” Okay, so I decided to ask him straight out instead of going through his sister.

  “I invest in things. Stocks and businesses mostly. With businesses, I invest to give young upstart companies seed money to go the next step.”

  “Really?” I quirk my eyebrow. “You’re so young. How did you make your money to be able to invest?”

  “Well, unfortunately I can’t boast about having earned it myself, like those young dot com entrepreneurs. Angela and I inherited our money. My dad was half owner of a thriving corporation that continues to yield us an income, and he also had a large life insurance policy.”

  Oh my gosh. He not only lost his brother, but his father too. I didn’t realize that, since Angela had only mentioned about their brother.

  “Well, you’re managing to put your money to good use, so you can take credit for that. Sounds like you and Angela are pretty much set for life, though.”

  “Yes, we pretty much are, unless I screw up royal and lose everything we have.”

  “That would be awful.”

  “Yes, it would.”

  We stare at each other for a moment and then it dawns on me.

  “Wait. Wouldn’t you still have the income from your father’s share of his corporation?” I ask.

  “You’re sharp.” A grin spreads his face. “Yes, that income would keep us afloat. It’s definitely enough to live on and build up some capital again.”

  “Some people are just born lucky,” I say.

  His smile turns to a somber expression.

  “I wish my parents didn’t have to die before their time for Angela and me to have gained it though. In that case, I would consider it far from lucky. I would trade our wealth for my family back.”

  Oh God, I just committed another faux pas. What’s the matter with me? And he said ‘parents,’ so they lost their mother too? How awful.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think before I spoke.”

  “I know. I didn’t take any offense by it, so don’t worry about it.” He grins again as his light brown eyes gaze into mine.

  The way he looks at me with those soulful eyes, seducing me with his ardent gaze, makes me want to jump him and kiss his luscious lips.

  My stomach does a few somersaults while we stand here staring at each other. I sense he’s as attracted to me as I am to him. His eyes give away his feelings. Oh, how I love his eyes, they turn my knees to softened butter. I wonder if my eyes do the same and he senses my attraction to him too.

  What am I doing? I shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions, or I’m bound to make a fool of myself.

  Okay, enough of this mental ravishment and back to reality.

  “Are you going to give me the tour of the house?” I ask, breaking our silence.

  He smiles as though he was witness to my scandalous thoughts.

  “That is the plan, but if you want to unpack first, I can give you the tour when you’re ready.”

  “I can unpack later. I’m anxious to tour your gorgeous home.”

  “As you wish.”

  “Isn’t that what Westley said to Buttercup in the ‘Princess Bride’?” I tease.

  “He does.”

  “So you admit to seeing that movie?”

  He scrunches his forehead, raising his eyebrows at the same time.

  “Sure. It’s a great movie. Funny as hell. Besides, my sister wanted to watch it so we rented the DVD from Netflix. I had no choice but to sit through it with her.”

  “You’re back peddling. Don’t blame it on your sister.” Oh, this is going to be fun.

  “I’m not back peddling. I’m just stating the facts, ma’am.”

  “Okay, that’s ‘Dragnet.’ Are you going to keep spouting lines from old movies?”

  “Yeah, Baby!”

  Oooh, ‘Austin Powers.’ Okay, two can play at this game. I know a few famous movie quotes myself.

  “Houston, we have a problem,” I reply.

  His face shows excitement—the challenge is on.

  “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

  I bite lightly on my tongue, trying to think up another quote. Aha!

  “You can’t handle the truth!” I try to do it like Jack Nicholson, but I fail miserably. I’m not a good actor I’m afraid. Regardless of my shitty acting skills, he seems to be impressed that I can play this game because he’s grinning profusely and I swear there’s a glint in his eye. He’s probably better at this than I am, but I’ll play his game as long as I can.

  “You had me at ‘hello.’”

  “You saw ‘Jerry McGuire’?” I ask. Another chick flick.

  “Yeah, it had some sports stuff, and again, it’s one my sis wanted to watch.” He laughs.

  “You watch some old movies.”

  “I can say the same about you,” he replies.

  “Yeah, we subscribe to Netflix too. I had a mom who watched a lot of movies when we were younger. Most of the quotes, however, I’ve heard through trivia games and such.”

  “You play trivia games?”

  “Not anymore, but I did when I was younger, at family reunions with our relatives. We haven’t gone to a reunion for about five years though.”

  “That’s too bad. Sounded like fun.”

  “It was.”

  Again, his eyes gaze into mine as we stand in front of each other in silence. I feel like I should say something, but I’m stuck for words.

  “Well, we could probably do this longer, but how about I take you on that tour? You ready?” he asks.

  “Go ahead, make my day,” I reply with a smile.

  “My preciiiiious,” he says and gives me a devilish grin.

  Chapter 4 - Marcus

  ~* Marcus - 3 years earlier *~

  “Okay, guys, hurry it up, we’re leaving in ten minutes.” I hear my father’s voice on the intercom.

  As I pass by Angela’s room on my way downstairs, I hear a “Shit!”

  I rap on her door. “You okay, sis?”

  “Come in and help me,” she calls out.

  I open the door and scan her bedroom, looking for her.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m down here.” A hand sticks up from behind the left edge of her bed, waving in the air.

  I walk over to where she beckons me, and she’s down on her hands and knees, looking under the bed.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I snagged my bracelet and lost a charm. I need to find it.”

  “Angie”—I only use this nickname for her occasionally—“Dad’s ready to go. You best leave the charm and look for it when we get back. Why are you wearing your charm bracelet anyway? It’ll get wet.”

  She sits up and looks at me with a frown. At seventeen, she’s already looking like a young woman. Unfortunately, with this charm bracelet, she seems to be acting like a child.

  “Marcus, this charm bracelet is special to me, and each charm is precious.” She holds her wrist out to me, and my eyes
focus on the shiny jewelry. “Each one of you has given me a charm for either my birthday or Christmas, and it’ll bug me to have any of them lost. It’s my good luck bracelet and since the day I got it on my Sweet Sixteenth birthday, I never take it off.”

  “You even bathe with it?”

  “Well, no. Of course I’m exaggerating on the ‘never’ part, but you know what I mean.”

  I just about want to roll my eyes, but I can see how important this is to her, so I join her, crawling around, looking for the damn charm.

  “Where were you when you snagged it?” I ask, getting a better bearing on where it could’ve landed.

  “Around this vicinity. It should be here somewhere. It must’ve gone under the bed, because I scoured all the open areas and under the dresser already.”

  “Here, move away and let me get my hand under there. My arm is longer, I can get a better reach,” I tell her.

  She scoots out of the way, and while on my belly, I reach under her bed to feel around. As I probe the area, my fingers stumble upon several boxes.

  “Geez, Angela, what the hell do you have under here?”

  “Oh, just stuff.”

  I start pulling out the ‘stuff’ so I can get a better feel, without them being in the way.

  “Kids, what’s the hold up?” My father’s voice booms over the intercom again.

  I give one last exploration over the surface, but I’m not coming up with anything. I sit up and look into my sister’s imploring eyes—she doesn’t want me to give up.

  “Angela, Dad’s going to have a cow soon. We gotta go. You’ll have to search for the charm when we return.”

  She’s not happy, but she knows I’m right.

  “I’ll help you look for it again when we get back. I promise.”

  I stand to my feet and hold my hand out to her. She hesitates, knowing that once she gives in, that’ll be it, we’re leaving.

  “Angie,” I say with a firm voice. She looks up at me with puppy dog eyes and finally grabs a hold of my hand so I can pull her up off the floor. Without letting go of her, I pull her along.