Our Unscripted Story

by L. A. Fiore

  A doorman greeted us. He was dressed in an emerald green uniform.

  “Fancy,” Paige whispered.

  The entrance hall was done in Italian marble from floor to ceiling. Crystal chandeliers that burned like fire and ice hung in a row from front to back pulling your eyes to the large, marble desk where two men in the same emerald green uniform sat.

  As we approached, they both stood. “Welcome Ms. Owens and Mrs. Atzer. Benny will show you the apartment.”

  Paige and I shared a look. We were getting a taste of what Greyson’s celebrity life was like. I noticed a man and a woman sitting in the small reception area drinking coffee. It looked very cozy. We walked right past the elevators to a smaller one concealed discreetly on the back wall; it made only one stop. The penthouse. Paige saw it when I did because her mouth fell open. We exited on the top floor into a circular foyer with walnut floors that were so clean you could eat off them. In the center of the foyer was an octagonal mahogany table that held a large vase of fresh flowers.

  “This is beautiful,” Paige whispered.

  I whispered back, “How can Greyson and I afford this?”

  Glancing at her, she’d been thinking the same thing. I still wanted to see the apartment. How often did one get to see a place like this?

  Benny walked to the carved walnut door with a security pad just to the right of it. He entered the code and pushed the door open. “I’ll wait for you outside,” he offered.

  As soon as I crossed over the threshold, I was in love. The floors were the same walnut as the foyer; the walls were a combination of brick and painted plaster in pale yellow. Ionic columns were scattered throughout the open floor plan adding a touch of charm and warmth to what could have been an overwhelming space. The kitchen sat against the inner wall, black granite counter tops, stainless steel appliances and an island that spanned the length of the kitchen. The cabinets that lined the entire wall were a beautiful cherry wood with paned glass. It was the most beautiful kitchen, almost too beautiful to use.

  “I could live in the kitchen,” Paige whispered at my side.

  “I think I need to be pinched.”

  “No, I’m seeing it too,” she offered with a chuckle before she took my hand and led me to the opposite wall which framed floor to ceiling windows that overlooked Central Park. A balcony wrapped around the entire floor.

  The bathroom was almost as big as my studio apartment, and the only other room on the first level was flooded with light from the floor to ceiling windows. A room that was perfect for a studio.

  The upstairs had three bedrooms and two baths. The walnut floors continued throughout the second floor and each bedroom was spacious and had its own balcony. The baths were natural stone with steam showers, jet tubs and double vanities. There was even an elevator. When I entered the master bedroom, I fell in love. The entire outer wall was windows. A button on the wall operated the blinds that fed up into the ceiling. On the far wall was a fireplace, trimmed in creamy white wood. The walls were painted Wedgwood blue so it felt like we were walking among the clouds. I turned to Paige.

  “It’s perfect, but there is no way we can afford this.”

  “Greyson doesn’t seem the type to pussyfoot.”

  I knew he’d been very busy over the last five years, but did he really make the kind of money needed to afford a place like this? We headed back downstairs as I battled disappointment. Now that I’d seen the apartment, I wanted it. Anywhere else would just be runner up, but I didn’t want us to be house poor either.

  “Miss Owens?” The woman and man who had been in the receiving area were walking toward us.

  “Yes.”

  She handed me a phone.

  “What do you think?”

  “Greyson.” I stepped away. “Can we afford this?”

  “Yes. My art has done very well, but I also have family money.”

  Family money? I hadn’t thought of that but he did live in a castle. Maybe it was stupid, but I didn’t like not being able to contribute particularly when the place had the price tag this one did.

  “Stop overthinking it, Alexis. You’re just getting started.”

  How did he do that? “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  “Because I know you.”

  Even feeling apprehensive, I couldn’t help the smile at how well we fit.

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it. One room is perfect for your studio.”

  “I thought so too. Tell my lawyers we’ll take it.”

  “How did you see the apartment?”

  “A virtual tour.”

  “A what?”

  “The realtor sent me a tour of the apartment through the computer.”

  “You can do that?”

  “Yep.”

  Scary. “How did you know I was coming today?”

  “Benny called me.”

  Of course he did.

  “Give the phone back to Patricia and tell her yes.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need to see it in person?”

  “My only requirement is anywhere you are.”

  “I wish you were here right now.”

  He growled deep in his throat, his voice gruff when he added, “Get the apartment and tell Paige I said hi.”

  I almost stuck my tongue out at him. Know it all.

  I walked to Patricia and handed her the phone. “We’ll take it.”

  “Excellent.” She reached in her briefcase for an envelope that she handed to me. “Enjoy your new home.” Then she put the phone to her ear and walked out, her companion following after her.

  I recognized the stationery. Inside was a platinum American Express card and a note.

  Have fun shopping with Paige.

  Love, Greyson

  Greyson

  I pocketed my cell and wished I had been there to see Alexis’ face as she walked through the apartment. Hell, when she stood outside the building. It was an expense, but it was also an investment and one both my business manager and my grandfather urged me to make. I had the money and would happily part with it to ensure a safe and welcoming home for my girl.

  “Based on your expression, she said yes.”

  Grandfather guessed when he joined me in the study. We’d only just gotten home from the hospital and instead of taking it easy, he was trying to catch up on his to-do list. He looked good though.

  His gaze caught mine. “Congratulations.”

  “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

  “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

  “Too soon for talk like that.”

  Contrition shifted his expression. “I’m sorry.”

  “Just take it easy. You don’t have to be on the move all the time. You do have people.”

  As if my words conjured him, Nigel entered the study. Grandfather and he went back a long time; their father’s shared the same relationship, as did their grandfathers. That was how it worked in these old homes; the families that supported the estates did so generation after generation. It was a point of pride and honor on both sides. Grandfather and Nigel could bicker like siblings, but they were family. “I’ve been saying the same thing. He listens to you as well as he listens to me.”

  Grandfather took a seat. I grinned. He did listen, just begrudgingly.

  “Greyson and his girl are moving in together.”

  Nigel turned to me and though he didn’t smile, not his style, he dipped his head before he offered, “Congratulations.”

  He joined grandfather on the sofa. “Is this the same young woman working on the family history? The one the photocopies were for?”

  Nigel had an incredible memory. “She’s been researching our family. Says there are a few mysteries buried in our ancestry that she wants to solve.”

  Grandfather’s face lit up. “I look forward to talking with her about it.”

  “About what with who?” Maggie, the housekeeper, asked as she entered pushing the tea cart. She didn’t typically serve us tea, we weren’t tha
t formal, but she was worried about Grandfather too. She knew he wouldn’t slow down unless he was made to slow down, even if that was just for a cup of tea and a scone. Her red hair had faded over the years, but her green eyes were as bright and lively as they were when I was younger and she’d sneak me biscuits before dinner. She had been a rock when we lost my parents. Had a spine of steel and an overflowing heart. She wasn’t staff. Like Nigel and William, she was family.

  “The Ratcliffe mysteries with Alexis.”

  She turned to me, her smile blinding. “Finally on the Alexis front.”

  My thoughts too.

  “With as long as Ratcliffes have been around, I’m not surprised to hear they stirred up a scandal or two,” she continued then winked.

  William entered, dressed in the black three-piece suit he insisted on wearing despite Grandfather’s encouragement to dress down. He was old school and took his role of butler very seriously. He scanned the room, taking in the occupants before he asked, “After tea, would you still like me to have Lady saddled for a ride?”

  Lady was my mother’s horse. She’d just been a filly then, but even at ten she was magnificent.

  “I’m going to pass on tea, so you can have her saddled now. Thank you, William.”

  He nodded before he turned and walked out.

  “The man needs to loosen up,” Nigel teased.

  “Let’s have tea,” Maggie didn’t wait for an answer and started pouring.

  I headed for the door. I hadn’t ridden in far too long. I was eager to see the estate as only you could on horseback. “Enjoy your tea. Grandfather, taking a nap doesn’t make you an old man.”

  “So noted.”

  “I’ll see you later.”

  “I’d like to send Alexis a graduation gift. Perhaps we can discuss it later this evening,” Grandfather’s offer halted my exit.

  “Me too. It could be from all of us,” Maggie added.

  I could see Alexis’ face, the surprise and tears over a gesture and from people she didn’t know. “She’d love that.”

  It was thinking about Alexis that had me detouring to my parents’ rooms. They had been gone for eight years and still their rooms were maintained as if they were still with us. When I was younger, I didn’t come in here. The housemaids were always talking amongst themselves about ghosts that haunted the halls and hills. I’d never seen one, but the idea of seeing my parents as apparitions, that they’d come back to hover at the foot of my bed terrified me.

  “You can take anything in here.” I turned at the sound of my grandfather’s voice. He stood just in the doorway. “I knew you’d come here.”

  It shouldn’t surprise me he knew me so well and still it did.

  “Anything you want.”

  I touched the shade of the lamp on the bedside table before reaching for the framed photo of my mother, father and me. It reminded me of the photo Alexis had of her parents; the one not framed but kept in a drawer, the picture that was well loved.

  “You never came in here after they died.”

  I traced the lines of my mom’s face. “I feared seeing their ghosts.”

  “Some of the younger women on the staff do have quite the imaginations.”

  I picked up their wedding picture. “They loved each other.”

  “It is one thing I will say about the Ratcliffe men. If we choose love, we love forever. Your grandmother was the love of my life, not just my wife, but part of me. Your father had that with your mother, you have it with Alexis. That’s special, but it can also be a curse. Losing a love like that, you don’t ever get over it. You learn to move on, to get out of bed every morning, to function, but a part of you never comes back. Losing your father and your mother will always hurt, but there is a part of me grateful they died together. To be the one left behind is very difficult.”

  A chill moved through me thinking about Alexis.

  Grandfather was thinking about Alexis too. “They would have loved her.”

  My eyes burned. “I know.”

  “Anything you want, Greyson. Your parents would want you to have whatever you want.”

  He walked from the room, I moved to Mom’s desk. Everything had a place, the pretty floral pattern of her blotter and pencil holder. I sat down and remembered as a kid sitting on her lap, talking and laughing. The memory was so vivid as I reached under her desk and felt around for the secret compartment she’d showed me. Pushing in the right sequence, a drawer popped open on the side of her desk. Her diary. That was something I would take. I closed up the secret drawer, stood and pushed in the chair being sure to leave the room as it was when I entered.

  “You really would have loved her. She would have loved you too.”

  I reached the door and took another look around as I remembered. “I’ll give Lady your love, Mom.” I pulled the door closed behind me, leaving those memories in that room with them.

  Alexis

  I was finding my rhythm in the weeks since I graduated. The mornings I spent at the playhouse and my afternoons I worked on my column and new material. I still took shifts at the diner because I had to contribute to our apartment, even if my offerings were meager. My hope was once the play released I could quit, provided it didn’t tank.

  My new home was still a bit surreal. The building and the location were amazing. I hadn’t purchased anything for the apartment with the exception of a bed and bedding for the master bedroom and some things for the kitchen. I wanted to wait until Greyson and I could do it together.

  I did bring my living room furniture from my apartment so I had something to use until we furnished our home. Our home. I really liked the sound of that. I had an idea for our bedroom and hoped Greyson could fit it into his schedule. As a graduation present, Paige and Grant bought me a laptop, so while watching television I worked on my novel—the one about Greyson and me. The one I wasn’t sure I’d ever show anyone, but loved working on.

  The phone pulled me from the scene and I almost didn’t answer it, but it could be Greyson calling so I hurried to the kitchen.

  “Hello.”

  “Miss Owens, it’s Nathaniel Breen.”

  It was funny how the human body responded to stimuli, like right now chills moved down my body from both excitement and fear. I even had trouble speaking, my voice no louder than a whisper when I replied, “Hello, Mr. Breen, how are you?”

  “Nat, please. I’m well, thank you. I have some information regarding your parents. I wondered if you had time today to meet.”

  “Yes,” I answered a little too quickly.

  He chuckled before he suggested, “Could we meet here? Say in an hour?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I tried really hard to calm down on the way to his office, but as I stood on the sidewalk just outside of it I wanted to throw up. I had theories on what happened to them, but if I stepped inside I wouldn’t get to pretend anymore, wouldn’t get to fill in the gaps with what I wanted the story to be. I needed to know; I had to move on one way or the other, so I took a deep breath and pulled open the door. Mr. Breen was waiting for me.

  “It’s so good to see you, Alexis. It’s okay that I call you Alexis?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He gestured to his office; I took a seat, he settled behind his desk. He opened a file and slid my picture across the table to me.

  My hand shook when I reached for it. He saw when he said, “I won’t keep you waiting. I’m afraid I have some…” He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. I knew what was coming before he said it. “I’m sorry to tell you that your mother died in a drive-by shooting when you were two.”

  My hand moved to my locket, but I didn’t immediately acknowledge his words, because doing so would mean all the dreams I’d clung to—her coming for me, us sitting on my jetty for hours at a time talking, of her fixing my veil on my wedding day and holding my hand as I delivered my babies, those dreams would shatter. I looked at the picture, her smiling face and how tightly she held me. I
knew, had always known, she was gone. The woman holding me, there was nothing that would have kept her from her child, nothing but death. Slowly, reality penetrated, I would never know her. I would never hear her voice or see her smile. All I had of her was this picture and her locket. The tears filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. Mr. Breen handed me a tissue, I curled my hand around it, but I kept my focus on her as I silently said goodbye.

  “You were there.”

  My head snapped up. “I was there?”

  “From all the accounts I’ve read she shielded you.”

  I traced her image. She died protecting me. She hadn’t abandoned me; she had given the ultimate sacrifice. I bit down on the sob. “What was her name?”

  “Sade Ann Owens.”

  I met Mr. Breen’s compassionate gaze. “Owens is my father’s name?”

  “No, her maiden name.”

  I liked that. It was fitting I should take her name. “And my father? Is he alive?”

  “Yes, but I hesitate to give you his name. His lifestyle is dangerous to say the least.”

  “Please.”

  He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his neck before he relented. “Finn Levy.”

  “He lives here, doesn’t he?”

  A pregnant pause before he replied, “Yes.”

  “Did I live here with them?”

  “Yes. As you suspected, you were placed with the Raffertys here before you moved to California.”

  Tears welled again as I lowered my head and studied my parents. I’d been drawn to New York because it was calling me home.

  “Your foster parents were reluctant to tell you about your parents because they were encouraged strongly not to.”

  “Encouraged by whom?”

  “Your father.”

  That insight made them marginally better, but not much. “Where does he live?”

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Why not?”

  “Your father is not…” He rubbed his neck again. How bad was it? “He is in the business of skirting the law.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Thwarted in his attempt to keep my dad’s information from me, he answered reluctantly, “He’s a member of Lucifer’s Warriors.”