by Lexi Ward
The feeling of being with him sent pleasure surging throughout her body. She pulled him down onto her, wrapping her arms around him, and wanting to keep him close.
But something in the back of her head stopped her suddenly. This was wrong—she knew it was wrong. He was her boss. She wanted to be with him; she wanted to feel him close to her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she gently placed her hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly.
“We can’t do this,” she said softly.
“What?” he asked her breathless.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said again regretfully.
He rolled onto his side, and she sat up quickly, grabbing her clothes, which were lying around her and holding them to her body. “I’m sorry, Joshua,” she began. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she felt her face burning red from both passion and embarrassment. “It’s just that, well, you’re my boss, and I just don’t think…”
“You’re right,” he said standing up quickly and collecting the scraps of his clothes and trying to cover himself as best as he could with them. “I’m sorry,” he said remorsefully. His voice sounded hurt, sad, and vulnerable. “It’s just,” he sighed deeply, “when I saw you, I had to kiss you. I had to reach out to you. Being near you helps me.”
“Helps you?”
“It calms me. It calms my anger.”
“Anger?” she repeated the word quietly.
“It won’t happen again. I promise.” He didn’t wait to hear her response. He walked quickly towards the door and pulled it open, disappearing into the hallway.
What did he mean by “anger” she wondered to herself as she stared at the empty space where he was just standing. Her heart was still racing, and her hands shook as she tried to pull her shorts back on. Did he have anger problems? Is that why he needed to be locked up? Was he dangerous?
Although a part of her was somewhat scared by the thought, she couldn’t get the feeling of his skin pressed against hers out of her mind. His touch was delicate—not that of a man who would ever hurt her. Something inside her told her that she didn’t need to be afraid of him. She didn’t need to be scared to be near him—she didn’t want to be scared to be near him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
After working with Joshua McGuire for three weeks, Margaret found herself no longer uncomfortable around him. The qualities of him that she found usual at first had merely become part of her routine. Every night at 11:00 she would chain him up, and every morning she would return to release him at 7:00. Some mornings his clothes would be shredded and ripped off, sprawled out on the floor at his feet. Others, he would be standing, dressed as elegantly as he was when she locked him up, waiting to greet her with a smile when she pushed open the large, heavy metal door.
She realized that his schedule kept him in the house constantly. After being freed, he would normally go to bed, and sleep from 7:00 until 12:30, maybe later. When he woke up, he had lunch. He always invited Margaret to join him. They would eat in almost complete silence. Occasionally, he would make a comment to her, usually, something she didn’t completely understand.
“Would you consider yourself a strong person, Margaret?” he asked her one day as they ate.
“Physically?” She set down her fork and looked at him, confused.
“Physically, emotionally, mentally… whatever,” he replied calmly.
She thought for a moment before answering. “Physically I don’t consider myself overly strong, but I wouldn’t say I’m weak either,” she began. “Emotionally? I suppose you could say that I am, and mentally… Isn’t that the same as emotionally?”
“Not at all,” he disagreed with her. “Emotional strength is tied to how much you let your emotions show. How much you let other people have an impact on what and how you feel.”
“And mental strength?”
“Mental strength is taking that a step further. Not only refusing to express your feelings openly but in essence refusing to feel them at all.”
“Is that possible?” she asked as she resumed eating.
“If it is, I haven’t figured out how to do it.”
That conversation, and others like it, often left her feeling like he was trying to tell her something—something personal about himself. But she couldn’t figure out what it was.
After eating lunch, Joshua often locked himself away in his office, where he stayed for the next five or six hours. When he was done doing whatever it is he busied himself with, he would have dinner. Again, Margaret would join him, and they would eat in silence. After dinner, she would lock him up, and the entire routine would start again the same way the next day.
When she wasn’t eating with him, or sleeping, Margaret found other ways to busy herself. He showed her the large library, and she spent a lot of her afternoons reading. Some days she would help Henry with the chores around the house, and others she would just lock herself away in her room, practicing lines from some of her favorite plays.
She never understood why Joshua was paying her and giving her a place to live if he really only needed her to lock him up at night and let him out in the morning. And if that’s all he really required of her, why couldn’t she leave during the day?
One morning, after releasing him from the small room, she decided to ask him. She waited outside his bedroom door just long enough to be sure that he had dressed completely. It had been one of those mornings that she found him naked, exhausted, and visibly upset.
“Joshua,” she said, knocking softly on his door.
It took a moment, but eventually he appeared, pulling the door open quickly and looking at her sleepily. “Yes, Margaret?” he asked her.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said nervously. Maybe coming to talk to him at this time was a bad idea. She should have waited until he got to rest a little.
“It’s okay, Margaret,” he said stepping to the side and motioning for her to come in. “You’re never a bother.”
She walked into the huge room slowly. The bed in the center of it was even larger than her king-sized bed, and on the wall in front of it was an enormous flat-screen TV. The far wall was made up entirely of windows, like a lot of the rooms in the house, and there were two doors—one leading to his closet and one to his private bathroom.
On the opposite side of the bed, in front of the window was a small sitting area. She made her way there and he followed her. “I just wanted to talk to you about my work and living arrangement,” she said softly when they were seated across from each other.
His face flashed with worry, but he quickly collected himself before speaking. “What about them, Margaret?”
“Am I trapped here, Mr. McGuire?” she asked him quickly. Once she had said the words out loud she turned her focus out the window, not wanting to see his reaction to her question.
He shifted his weight around in the chair and let out a deep sign. “Why do you ask that, Margaret?” he said finally. His voice sounded hurt.
“It’s just that I can’t leave, or at least I never do leave. You said you want me here at all times, in case you suddenly need me for something, but the only thing you ask me to do it lock you up at night and release you in the morning.”
“You’re right,” he admitted. “For the last few weeks, I have only needed you at night and in the mornings. But there may come the day that I need you in the afternoon, or in the middle of the morning, or at virtually any hour. There’s no way to be sure.”
“So yes?” she said turning to look at him sadly. “I am trapped here?”
“Margaret,” he said, sounding angry all of the sudden. “It was part of the job. You being here was part of the job. You accepted the job.”
“I didn’t think it meant I had to be here all day every day!” she said in her defense. “I thought I would at least be able to have some sort of a life outside of the house!”
“Where is this coming from?” he asked her almost aggressively. “You never complained about the arrangements before. Why now?�
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“Because I’ve been here for three and a half weeks! Three and a half weeks without being outside, even once!”
He stood to his feet quickly, his face red and his hands clenched into fists. “Then go!” he shouted down at her.
His aggressive stance scared her. She had never seen him like that before. She didn’t think he could ever be like that! She remembered his comments about anger and controlling his emotions. Flustered, she pushed herself up, almost knocking the chair backward as she did so. “Go?” she asked softly.
He stepped towards her, and she stepped back. With that the chair did clatter to the ground, causing her to jump. “No,” he said, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. “No, I didn’t mean that. Don’t go. Or do. Whatever you’d like, Margaret.”
“I don’t want to leave,” she said softly. “I just want to know that I’m allowed to if I ever do one day.”
He reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry I spoke to you that way,” he said, sincerity heavy on his voice. “And yes, Margaret, if you ever decide to leave, you can. I don’t want you to feel like you’re a prisoner here. I want you to be here because you want to be.”
CHAPTER NINE
Two days after their argument, the tension between Margaret and Joshua was still strong. It wasn’t in an aggressive sense, though. It seemed like that moment between them somehow sparked up the same passion that had clouded their judgment the first morning she released him from his chains.
When she went to see him that morning, he was still dressed and greeted her warmly. “It’s always good to see you in the mornings, Margaret,” he said to her kindly as they exited the room with the metal door.
“I have to admit, Joshua. I enjoy seeing you in the morning as well,” she said sincerely as he pushed open the door to his room.
“I’ll see you in a few hours,” he said as he let the door close between them.
She made her way to the kitchen where Henry had her breakfast prepared and waiting. As she ate, she couldn’t get her mind off of Joshua. She scolded herself mentally, reminding herself that he was her boss. There could never be anything between them.
It was almost as if the universe were trying to give her a sign that she was right, because just as Henry was collecting her dishes her phone began to ring. She didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello?” she picked up.
“Maggie?” the voice on the other line asked.
“Yes. Who is this?” she asked, perhaps a little too standoffishly.
“Michael,” the voice answered. There was a pause, and she felt bad because she knew he was waiting for her to remember him. “I’m Carrie’s friend,” he finally said.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, a little embarrassed. “Of course! Michael! From the audition, right?”
“Yes,” he said, relief in his tone. “I asked Carrie for your number. I hope that’s okay.”
“Oh, sure,” she replied. “That’s fine.”
“I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink or something tonight? Maybe dinner?”
She let out a soft giggle, quickly clapping her hand over her mouth, hoping he didn’t hear it. It had been a long time since she had been on a date, at least as long as she had been in the city. “Are you asking me on a date, Michael?” she asked, not letting her real excitement come across.
“If you’re interested,” he answered.
“Well,” she tried to sound like she was considering the offer a lot more than she really was. “I suppose it would be nice to go out for a drink or something,” she finally agreed.
“You have to be here tonight,” she heard Joshua’s voice say from behind her.
Her heart stopped. She turned to look up at him. The expression on his face was one she wasn’t very familiar with. She hadn’t seen him look that way since the first day he brought her to the room with the metal door—he looked hurt.
“I’m going to have to call you back, Michael,” she said quickly, ending the call before hearing his response. “Were you spying on me?” she accused Joshua as she stood up to address him.
“Spying on you?” he asked laughing a little. “Margaret, you’re in the dining room. It’s not like you’re locked away in your room or somewhere where I would have to actually spy to overhear your conversation.
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged walking over and taking a seat at the table. “So, let’s talk about tonight,” he said motioning for her to sit next to him.
“Are you going to tell me I’m not allowed to go?” she asked as she took her seat. “Do you think you can somehow control my life and what I do?” She noted a sense of disdain in her voice. She had never imagined she would talk to him like that. She wasn’t sure where the frustration was coming from. Maybe it was being stuck in the house all day, every day. Or maybe it was having to be so close to him constantly, feeling her attraction towards him grow on a daily basis, and not being able to act on it.
“I don’t want to control you, Margaret,” he said his voice still calm, although the look on his face was still one of hurt.
“Then why can't I see Michael?” She wondered if it was because he was jealous.
“You can,” he said after thinking for a moment. “Bring him here.”
“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“I have a home cinema. You can both come here, watch a movie, and you’ll just have to slip away for five minutes at 11:00 to fulfill your duties.”
“I don’t know…” she said contemplating the option.
“I need you, Margaret,” he said reaching out and placing his hand on hers. “Please.”
Her heart fluttered in her chest. Hearing him say he needed her had more of an impact on it than it should have. “I’ll ask him,” she said quietly.
“Thank you.”
She went to her room to call Michael back. This time, if Joshua had anything to say about her conversation she would know that he really was spying on her.
“Michael? Hi, it’s me,” she said nervously when he answered the phone.
“Hey, Maggie. So, we on for tonight?”
“Actually, about that,” she started, although she wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed. “I completely forgot that I told my boss I would stay around the house tonight. He needs my help with something.”
“Oh,” he sounded a little upset. “Maybe another time?”
“No!” she said quickly. “It’s not that I can’t see you. It’s just that… Well, you see…” She hated this situation. She felt awkward and wasn’t sure how to explain something she didn’t even understand herself. “Joshua has a theater here. He said we can use it. So, if you’d like…”
“Joshua who?” he asked quickly, cutting her off.
“Joshua McGuire.”
“What?” he said loudly. “You work for Joshua McGuire?”
“Yes,” she said unsure of how he knew about Joshua.”
“You work for one of the richest men in the city?” he continued to speak with amazement.
She had never realized exactly how much money Joshua had. She had never asked or even thought to. “How do you know that?” she questioned Michael.
“Everyone knows about Joshua McGuire!” His tone made her feel stupid that she didn’t know about him before working for him.
“Alright,” she said wanting to change the topic. “So, are you up for that? Coming back here and watching a movie or something?”
“Hell yeah!” he said excitedly. “What time should I be there?”
CHAPTER TEN
Margaret couldn’t believe how nervous she was waiting for Michael to show up. She tried on at least three different outfits, spending at least fifteen minutes in each in front of the three-sided mirror, spinning around, and scrutinizing every inch of herself. Eventually, she settled for a floral print dress that was snug on the top but flowed out in a soft ruffle throug
h the skirt. She decided on a pair of strappy wedge heels, and a subtle pearl necklace.
When she walked out of her room and into the sitting room, Joshua stood to greet her but seemed to be left speechless upon seeing her. “Margaret,” he said in an airy voice. “You look…”
She blushed, looking down at her dress and pulling at the skirt nervously. “Thank you.”
“What time will he be here?” Joshua asked, taking his seat again, but not moving his gaze off of Margaret.
“At 9:00,” she answered.
