Читать книгу The Summer Of Sunshine And Margot - Susan Mallery, Susan Mallery - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Alec Mcnicol did not like having people stay in his house. When visiting scholars came to study any of the ancient texts, they worked in one of the archive rooms during the day, then retreated to a hotel at night. The same with the household staff. Edna Stojicic, his very sensible housekeeper, brought a team of cleaners to tend to the large building and worked her magic in the kitchen before disappearing long before 5:00 p.m. There were weeks he never saw her at all. The gardeners rarely needed to speak to him and he communicated with Borys, the full-time woodworker/handyman the old Spanish building required, via text.

On a good day, Alec saw no one, spoke to no one, and that was how he preferred things. He loved his life just as it was. His routine was predictable and that made him happy. Only now he was not dealing only with his mother—there was a stranger to contend with.

At least Margot appeared to be a restful sort of person. She wasn’t loud or garish, nor did she seem the type to always want his attention. Even now, as she moved her things into one of the guest rooms upstairs, he couldn’t hear her at all. Of course, given the solid construction of the monastery, she could be rehearsing with a rock band and if the door was closed, he wouldn’t hear her. The thought made him smile. The smile retreated when someone knocked on his half-closed door.

“Yes?” he called, hoping against hope it wasn’t Bianca come to discuss how he should create a turtle refuge in his backyard, or help her with an application to join SETI. With his mother, one never really knew what to expect.

He was relieved to find Margot in the cloisters hallway, only this was a different Margot than the businesswoman he’d met the previous week. Gone were the sensible glasses, the gray suit, the plain black pumps. Instead she wore dark jeans and a deep purple twinset. As before, her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but unlike last time, her face didn’t have on a lick of makeup.

He could see freckles on her nose and a soft, natural color staining her cheeks. She looked young and impossibly beautiful. With breasts.

He drew in a breath. What in God’s name was wrong with him? He never noticed breasts or any other part of a woman. He wasn’t visual and he certainly didn’t think about size or shape or nipples. Yet thoughts of all three were firmly stuck in his brain. His mother’s trainer, or whatever it was he was supposed to call Margot, had breasts and he had acknowledged them. Only to himself, but still. It was a calamity.

“Hi,” Margot said with a smile. “I just wanted to take a second and tell you I’ve moved in. Edna showed me around. You have a spectacular home. The remodeling job makes the space comfortable while retaining the essence of it being in a monastery. The windows, the carvings around the door. Your home is a wonder.”

Her words calmed him. He managed to nod and motioned for her to enter his office. Keeping his gaze anywhere but her chest, he led her to his desk, where they both took a seat.

“Yes, the work was carefully planned and executed. I, too, am pleased with the outcome.”

“I wanted to confirm the ground rules,” she said. “Edna explained about the door lock code and I’ve seen both floors.” Her mouth curved up at the corners. “Not the basement yet, but I’m so going to explore that. Edna said I was free to go anywhere in the house with the exception of your office and bedroom, of course.”

She put her hands on her lap, resting them calmly. Margot didn’t fidget. He liked that.

“The guest lounge upstairs is comfortable and certainly has everything I need,” she continued. “I’ll use the desk for my work and I’m thinking it would be easier if Bianca and I conducted most of our classes outside.”

He nodded, not sure what any of this had to do with him.

“I prefer to take my meals in my room.” Margot’s tone was firm. “I’m not a member of the family and there’s no need to act like I am. I’ve found it’s much easier on everyone if we all remember that. There’s no awkward conversation and if I have a bad day with your mother, the last thing she would want would be to have dinner with me.”

“Bianca is gone most evenings,” he said. “She often goes to see Wesley or to spend time with her friends.” In fact, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t had dinner with his mother since she moved in nearly two weeks ago. Which was odd considering how it seemed she was always everywhere.

“No matter. I’ll collect my meals from the kitchen and take them upstairs if it’s all the same to you.”

“Excellent. Anything else?”

“Your mother and I begin in the morning. As my contract is with her, I won’t be providing you with updates.”

“I believe I will be the first to notice if you make any progress.”

She studied him. “You still don’t think I can help.”

“I’m not sure anyone can help. My mother answers to no one. She is like a leaf on the wind—she goes where she likes.”

“I thought leaves went where the wind said.”

“You are correct. A poor analogy.” He tried to think of another, but the only thing that came to mind was how much he wanted to look at Margot’s breasts and that certainly wasn’t anything he could mention.

“Tell me a story from when you were little,” she said with a smile. “About your mother.”

The request surprised him. “What kind of story? A good story or a bad one? Are you trying to learn something specific?”

“Not really. I’m just curious and I’d like to get a feel for her. Can you give me one of each?”

He nodded. “When I turned seven, she rented out an ice-cream parlor and treated my entire class to an afternoon there. We played games and ate as much ice cream as we wanted.”

“That is a good story.”

“Yes, until all the children started throwing up because they’d had too much.”

“Oh. I suppose I can see how that would happen. And the other story?”

“When I was seventeen, she slept with my best friend.”

Alec immediately wanted to call back the words, but it was too late. They hung out there in the late afternoon, echoing in his large office. Margot’s eyes widened.

“I was away at a Swiss boarding school,” he added, realizing he had to explain. “She came to visit and took the two of us to Paris for a long weekend. I went for a walk one afternoon and when I came back, I saw him stepping out of her room.”

He remembered the sense of betrayal—that his mother would come between him and a friend. She’d always known he didn’t make friends easily and to get in the middle of that, to change it into something uncomfortable, had made him furious. And sad.

“I’m not gay,” he said. “It wasn’t that I was in love with him, but it wasn’t something she should have done.”

“No,” Margot murmured. “We’ll leave the fact that she slept with a minor for another time.” Her mouth twisted. “I’m sorry. You must have felt betrayed by both of them.”

“I did. He and I never spoke of it.” Not a word, he thought. But everything had changed. The next year Alec had gone off to University of Oxford and he and his friend had lost touch.

Until then he’d known his mother was impulsive, but he hadn’t realized how the flaw affected other people. He’d always kept fairly tight control on his emotions, but that incident had solidified his determination to let his mind dictate his actions. There would be no hasty decisions, no wild flights of fancy. It was a rule he lived by, regardless of circumstances.

Margot worried her lower lip, drawing his attention to the shape of her mouth.

“My mother abandoned my sister and me when we were little,” she said quietly. “Her mother had abandoned her the same way. The Baxter women are not known for their good choices in the men they fall for or how they raise their children.”

He appreciated her attempt to level the emotional playing field. It was a nice gesture and spoke well of her character.

“You haven’t abandoned any children.” His tone was firm.

“No, but I’ve been unwise about men.” She wrinkled her nose. “Or rather, one man.” She drew in a breath and met his gaze. “But that’s behind me now.” Her mouth turned up in an impish smile. “Because unlike you, I believe people can change.”

“It’s not people so much as my mother. Still, she wants this. She does love Wesley.”

“You sound surprised.”

“She’s never been so devoted to someone. He’s not her usual type, so perhaps that’s the reason.”

“Or he’s the one she’s been looking for all along.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A romantic, Margot? I would not have expected that.”

“Not a romantic, but I remain hopeful.”

He wondered about the man she’d been foolish with. What did that mean? Alec made it a point to never get involved with a woman. Not seriously. If he let down his barriers, if he gave his heart, well, he didn’t know what would happen, but the worry that he could turn into his mother was enough to keep him comfortably solitary. He didn’t like a lot of drama and emotion in his world. He’d created the life he wanted and he was content. There were no highs, but also no worries that he would become unhinged.

She rose. “I won’t keep you any longer,” she said. “I just wanted to say hello and make sure we were both clear with the ground rules.”

“Of course.” He stood. “Have you discussed them with my mother?”

“I will and I’m confident she’ll be in favor of them.”

He allowed himself a slight smile. “We’ll see.”

“I can be stubborn and disciplined.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but Bianca has a way of making things happen that are more to her liking. She swoops in and rearranges until you’re left wondering how exactly things got that way. It’s a gift.”

She laughed. “You mean it’s a curse.”

“Not for her. Just us lesser mortals.”

“I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to proving you wrong.”

“I am rarely wrong, Margot.”

“Neither am I.”

By nine-thirty that night, Margot was nearly giddy from her excitement about the house. She’d spent an hour in the small chapel, only leaving when it got dark. She’d checked out the empty guest room, the guest lounge and most of the kitchen. She’d made herself a sandwich for dinner and had discovered that the cookie jar was full of cookies. Homemade cookies with frosting or chocolate chips, all soft and gooey and if this kept up she was going to have to up her exercise routine. Or buy bigger pants.

Later in the week, when she had some free time, she was going to explore the gardens. The grounds were extensive—at least three acres—and she wanted to discover every inch.

It was late enough that she knew she should head to her room, but she just wasn’t ready. Bianca had gone out and Alec was somewhere—possibly his office or the media room and she planned to avoid both—so it was as if she had the entire house to herself.

She thought briefly about heading into the basement, but decided that might be too much for her first night. At some point she really did have to get some sleep. Just not quite yet.

She walked to the stairs leading to the second floor and told herself to be a responsible adult and just go to her room, only to hear someone coming up behind her. She turned and saw Alec leaving the kitchen. His gaze met hers and they both froze.

She recovered first and smiled. “It’s just me. I’ve been exploring.”

“Did you find anything unusual?”

“Not yet. What would count as unusual?”

“Old documents would be excellent. Artifacts, that sort of thing.”

“I doubt there are many hiding spaces left. The guys doing the remodel would have found them all.” She laughed. “What about a skeleton?”

“No, thank you.”

“Because it would creep you out?”

“Because it would bring too many people here.”

“Of course. The police, the coroner, reporters. You want something intriguing that won’t set off an invasion. I’ll do my best to make that happen.”

“Thank you.”

She expected him to excuse himself but instead he gestured toward the living room. “Would you care to join me for a cognac?”

She wasn’t sure a man had ever invited her “for a cognac” before. “Thank you,” she said, and followed him into the living room.

While Alec walked over to the wet bar against the far wall, Margot took in the high ceiling and clerestory windows across the entire east side. She would guess they had once been stained glass, no doubt removed when the property had been sold. Converting the monastery into a home must have been quite the job.

She took a seat in one of the wingback chairs by the sofa. Alec handed her a glass, then took a seat opposite her.

“Any ghost sightings?” he asked.

“I’m not sure I believe in ghosts. Do you?”

“I have yet to see one.”

“And seeing is believing?”

“When it comes to ghosts, yes.”

She took a sip of her drink. The cognac was rich and smooth.

“Edna mentioned something about ancient texts,” she said. “That if I saw anything that looked like old paper to not touch it.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “I assure you, you will not find ancient texts lying around. They are all cataloged and protected.”

“Whew. Because I was really worried. I wouldn’t want to get a sweaty glass ring on the one document that could further our understanding of a language.”

“That would be a tragedy. Now you can rest easy.”

“So is that what you do? Study languages?”

“I’m more interested in what the texts say than the language itself. What was considered so important that it had to be captured in the written word. Five thousand years ago, there weren’t any sticky notes. Back then a written message was deliberate. Paper had to be made by hand and it was a laborious process. Ink had to be created and then you had to find someone who knew how to read and write.”

“I never thought of it that way, but of course you’re right. Today language is careless. We think nothing of writing something down.”

“Exactly. There are still languages that we can’t decipher. One of my hobbies is trying to translate Indus script. The civilization existed from about 2600 BC to 1900 BC in the area of what we know as Pakistan and northwestern India. They were a thriving people with an export trade and several large towns, and then they were gone, leaving behind a written language we have yet to understand.”

“I didn’t know there were any written languages that hadn’t been translated.”

“There are several. Every year or so I take a few weeks to see if I can make any progress on Indus script.”

Okay, that was impressive. Her goal on the hobby front was to learn how to knit.

“Tell me how you do your work.”

She smiled. “That’s a very generalized question. Every client is different and I do my best to customize my approach for the situation. A businessperson wanting to learn cultural norms for a business trip to China is a very different proposition than someone who might be moving to Argentina for a promotion.”

“Do you know much about living in Argentina?”

“No.” She laughed. “That was an example. I could teach a basic course on business practices in Argentina, but I don’t know the nuances necessary for someone moving there. We have experts.”

“On Argentina?”

“On nearly every country. I’m more of a generalist.”

“Ah. You get the unusual requests.”

“When I’m lucky.”

He smiled at her. He had a nice smile and she liked his dark eyes. There was something very pleasant about Alec. He was a deliberate sort of person and she could appreciate that.

“Did my mother tell you she’s not one for technology? If you’re hoping she’ll do work online, you’re going to be disappointed.”

“I had a couple of workbooks printed and bound. We’ll see how those are received. In her case, I assumed we’d do a lot of talking and some role playing. I’m not sure where we’re starting, so until I know that, I can’t formulate a complete plan.”

“I’m imagining formal place settings at the dining room table.”

Margot laughed. “That will happen for sure. You can play along if you’d like. Many a client has been overwhelmed by the fish fork.”

“Not the dessert spoon?”

“You know about the dessert spoon?”

“Yes. It’s up by the dessert fork. You forget—I went to boarding school in Switzerland. I can handle a fish fork with the best of them.”

“Training every young man needs.”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t go that far but those lessons are ingrained.”

“Your father was Swiss?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“He was. A rich banker who met my mother at a party in London. Theirs was a brief but torrid affair with the unexpected result of her getting pregnant. She was twenty-four at the time and my father was in his early forties.”

“That is an age difference.”

“Yes, and neither of them wanted to get married. I’m not sure my father was all that interested in having children, although his parents were thrilled. My mother returned to LA to prepare for my birth.” He smiled. “I will admit that when I was little, she seemed almost magical. We were a team. She took me everywhere. There were no bedtimes, no rules. When I was four, she hired a tutor who traveled with us.”

“While no rules sounds nice, it’s not always comfortable.”

“I agree.”

She sipped her cognac. “So you made your own rules.”

He nodded.

“What about your father?”

“He never had any other children so I was his only heir. I saw him from time to time, but we weren’t all that close. I adored my paternal grandparents. I spent a few weeks with them every summer. By the time I was thirteen, I was ready to go to boarding school. My father told Bianca and that was that.”

She was sure Alec had been happy to leave his nomadic life for something more structured, but she couldn’t help wondering how Bianca had reacted to her only child living halfway around the world.

“Was that the last time you lived with her?” she asked.

“I would spend time with her on breaks.”

Like the trip to Paris where Bianca slept with his best friend.

“Your mother is a complex woman,” she said.

“She is. You have your work cut out for you.”

She glanced at her watch and was shocked to see it was nearly eleven. She rose.

“It’s late. Thank you for the cognac and the conversation.”

Alec stood. “You’re welcome. Good luck with everything. I’m around if you have any questions.”

She nodded. “Good night.”

She carried her glass into the kitchen, washed it, then made her way upstairs. When she reached her room, she thought about all she’d learned about Alec and Bianca and knew there was so much more to discover.