by Cat Mann
Chapter 19
Margaux
I won’t lie. The dress Margaux sent home really was beautiful. It was tight and snug against my body. The color was a soft, dusty rose and the fabric was lace with a creamy silk sheath underneath. The shoes she sent along with the dress were Louboutin, much higher than I like to wear but totally typical of Margaux. I made an effort to look my best. I didn’t care about impressing Margaux or her friends, but this command appearance was in the interest of Ari’s job after all, and it mattered to him.
He came to fetch me at six thirty and he looked absolutely stunning in a sleek, dark suit. I wrapped a fist around his tie and he pulled me in for a lingering kiss.
“Do you think we could be a few minutes late?” I teased and tugged at the button on his dinner jacket.
Ari bit his lip while he thought about my proposition.
“It’s never just a few minutes when it comes to the two of us, Ava. If anyone other than Margaux were hosting this deal, I would – but I am afraid she might kill us if we were late.” He looked me up and down with a salacious smile. “I love you in this dress. I am very much looking forward to peeling it off of you as soon as we get home … maybe sooner.”
I did my best at suppressing the small fire that ignited in the pit of my stomach and we left our room and headed into the main part of the house. Collin had my mother’s journal propped up on his knee in the living room while August, Julia and Rory sat on the couch and watched an action movie on TV. Ari told them all we were heading out to a party and would be home late. No one really paid him any attention and we slipped out of the house.
We arrived at Margaux’s mansion of a home and as soon as we walked through the door, she glided across the floor and wrapped me up in a delicate hug, then kissed me on the cheek.
“Oh, Ava, darling, I have missed you so much,” she purred. I nearly gagged and gave her a look like she was nuts. I had called Margaux’s cell and office three times each to catch up over the past week, after Ari suggested that I had hurt her feelings over the holiday. Margaux never took my calls. She linked her arm through mine and led me through her home, as if I had never been there before. I shot Ari a nasty look and he gave me a small laugh.
Margaux led us down a corridor, past the dining room and back to the sitting room where the rest of her guests had gathered. She handed each of us a glass of wine and then cleared her throat. There must have been twelve other people there and they gave Margaux their full, undivided attention as she introduced me.
“This is my precious granddaughter, Ava,” she said sweetly, “and of course you know her genius husband, Ari.”
I gave the room a small wave and a smile and then peeled my arm away from Margaux and linked it with Ari’s. Margaux gave a frilly laugh, batted her eyelashes and said, “Young love … ” and the whole room giggled with her. I suppressed an eye roll and bit my tongue to keep back a nasty remark. Ari gave my arm a squeeze and we walked into the room together.
As usual, Ari was the center of attention. Everyone wanted a minute of his time, and we spent the first hour smiling politely as people took turns peppering him with questions and stories. I was actually relieved when Margaux announced dinner was ready to be served in the dining room. My feet hurt and I was thirsty. I had hopes of getting a glass of water. I wondered idly if the devil drinks water.
Ari and I hung back for a moment as the room cleared.
“This isn’t so bad, huh?” he asked.
“I guess not, Ari, but Margaux is acting so strange.”
“She seems to be acting fine to me, Ava. She is pleased to see you.”
“You don’t know her like I do; she’s gone nuts.”
He kissed me on the forehead and we were interrupted by Margaux.
“Coming, darlings?”
Ari and I followed her out of the sitting room and back down into her spacious and elegant dining room. If someone had told me Martha Stewart had organized this dinner party, I would have believed it. Everything was perfection. The dining room table was set formally and quite stylishly. The centerpieces were red and white amaryllis in clear glass vases. Flickers of candlelight gleamed against the glass and danced around the room, bouncing off the chandelier and back again.
For dinner, Margaux served a herb salad with feta followed by Mediterranean chicken on rice pilaf. The final course, dessert, was apricot-fig compote. Dessert-wine glasses were brought in for the peach and apricot hints of a decadent riesling to go with it. I was sure Margaux had no hand in the decorations or the meal other than the ordering around of several very scared people.
“Ava,” a woman across the table said, raising her voice a little to get my attention, “that’s a beautiful dress you’re wearing.”
“Thank you; I think so, too. It’s one of Margaux’s designs actually. She gave it to me as a gift for this evening.”
Everyone in the room turned to look at the dress and then turned to Margaux.
“Is that true, Margaux?” The woman asked. “I don’t remember ever having seen it.”
“No, I’m lying,” I said under my breath with an over-exaggerated eye roll. Ari put his hand on my knee and squeezed … hard.
Margaux cleared her throat and had a very pleased look on her face that made me want to puke.
“Why, yes … I brought the dress out for the new spring line; I had Ava in mind when I designed it, as always. Tonight is the dress’s debut. We have plans of it being on the cover of Vogue.”
Oohs and ahhs erupted from the group of people and I forced a smile. They all carried on about the new spring line for a few minutes, giving me a reprieve from attention.
“Did you know that?” I side whispered to Ari through clenched teeth.
“What, about the dress?” he whispered back.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you wouldn’t have worn the dress if I had told you. And you look lovely in it.”
And with that comment my reprieve from the group’s conversation ended. Margaux fixed me with her gaze and said, “Ava, I thought I might put you to work for a little bit this evening. I am sure you wouldn’t mind entertaining us with a song or two on the piano.”
I opened my mouth wide to protest, but she cut me off, stopping me from speaking.
“Ava is a classically trained pianist. She’s brilliant.”
“Margaux, I can't … ”
She held her hand up to stop me, “Ava, I insist.”
I ground my teeth, annoyed and pushed my food around with my fork for the rest of dinner. I no longer enjoyed playing the piano. I wasn’t as good as I used to be. My fingers on my left hand were still too slow thanks to the nerve damage No. 6 inflected when he sliced open my wrist.
We all got up, I followed Margaux into her giant foyer and I took a seat at her piano.
“Do you have any requests?” I asked her politely.
“You know what I like,” she said with a tight smile, and there was a wicked gleam in her cold, dark eyes.
I looked at Ari out of the corner of my eye and he mouthed a small, “Sorry.”
I gave him a look that could kill and began to play. Margaux loved Beethoven so I started playing “Moonlight Sonata” and then moved into a few of his other pieces until my hand began to tighten and my fingers started to cramp. Once I finished, I stood up and walked over to Ari’s side. He kissed me sweetly and I peered over at Margaux. She was dabbing tears from her eyes. And, amazingly, they weren’t the phony ones I had seen her pretend to wipe away so often before. She appeared to be genuinely sad and upset over something. I gave Ari’s arm a squeeze and pulled him aside out of earshot from the rest of the guests.
“We have got to get out of here,” I whispered.
“OK, we will soon, I promise.”
“Ava, darling,” Margaux called for me. I turned around and gave her an acknowledging smile.
“Darling, come here for a mo
ment.”
Ugh!
I kept hold of Ari’s hand and we walked back across the room towards Margaux. One of her guests, whose name I was fairly sure was Yvette, turned without looking and walked straight into me, causing her full glass of after-dinner port to spill down the front of my dress. I let out an audible gasp in shock, looked down, and saw I was completely soaked and the dress was ruined. Yvette sputtered out apologies as people dashed towards us to pat me with napkins.
“Oh, Ava!” Margaux cried. “Quickly, go up to my room and change. I have plenty of things in my closet you can change into.”
“No Margaux, I’m fine,” I said, thinking I could use my wet dress as an excuse to leave. “Ari can just take me home.”
“Nonsense, Ava, you can’t drive home like that. Go change now.”
I knew not to argue and grumbled, “I’ll be right back,” to Ari as I turned around to head up the giant staircase that led to Margaux’s lair.
Her room was massive and very plush. It was also very private. I had only been in Margaux’s room one other time, in the dream when I cut Perry’s thread.
I took in all of the photos she had out on display. All of them contained Margaux, Perry and my mom, when my mom was a little girl. A few of them included me. Family shots of all kinds covered the bureau and the walls and Margaux looked lovingly at my mom in each one. She seemed to be a completely different person from the cold, distanced woman I knew. Her smile looked genuine and her eyes even looked to be a different color. The cold, dark look I had noted at the dinner was gone and in its place were eyes of a light, soft blue.
I picked a photo up of my mom standing with me and holding my hand. I remembered the day perfectly. I had been eight years old and Perry had come to visit us in Montréal for my birthday. He had taken this picture of the two of us in the garden, right before he had to get on his flight back home. I set the photo down, walked across the floor, passed Margaux’s king-sized sleigh bed, and stopped in front of her dressing table. Her jewelry, including her wedding ring and the necklace I had gotten her for Christmas last year, was lying there. I picked up her ring and twirled it around in my fingers, gazing at it for a moment before putting it back down.
A glass plate on top of the vanity held various perfumes. I opened a bottle of “baio for Women” and was overwhelmed by the delicate, warm smell of lilac and vanilla. I tilted my head to the side trying to place the scent. It was so familiar. Suddenly, the smell made my stomach heave with nausea. I suppressed a gag reflex, let out a cough and set the perfume down.
I turned towards Margaux’s walk-in closet, in a hurry to get the hell out of her creepy room.
At back of the closet, her dresses hung neatly in a row. Below the dresses, lined up in order of color, were her shoes. The collection was pretty impressive – rows and rows of Jimmy Choo, Louboutin and Manolo Blahniks – and in the corner all by themselves, a pair of Nikes. How odd for Margaux’s closet. I had never seen her in shoes that weren’t tall and pointy. I got on my knees and picked one of the Nikes up, turning it around in my hand. There was a bright yellow swoosh on it.
The Nike dropped to the floor from my shaking hands. My pulse quickened and panic began rise in my chest. To keep from passing out, I had to remind myself to breathe.
“Ava?”
My head snapped up at the sound of Ari calling my name. My jaw was slack and my eyes were beginning to pool with tears.
“Ava Baby, what’s taking you so long? Just grab a dress and put it on.”
“Ari, it’s her. No. 7 – it’s Margaux.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Ari rolled his eyes at me as if I were being overly dramatic.
“I’m serious, Ari. I know she’s the one. She had a burn on her arm at the same time your dad’s study was set on fire. She is the one who stitched me back up after No. 6 cut my wrist. I could smell her perfume, the kind baio sells, I could smell it in the basement when I came to. I know she was there.”
I picked up the Nike.
“She was wearing these when I cut the thread of No. 6.”
“Ava,” Ari said quietly, letting his hands drop to his sides. “Everyone has a pair of Nikes in their closet, baio is the most popular perfume available, of course Margaux would wear it, she designed it.”
“You don’t believe me do you? I’m not lying, Ari. I wouldn’t accuse her if I didn’t believe it.”
I was hurt that he didn’t trust me, but I had brought Ari’s lack of trust in me on myself.
He looked at me for a moment and let out a sigh.
“No, I do believe you, Ava. If you say Margaux is involved with the Kakos, then I believe you.” I didn’t hear much conviction in his voice as he made his statement. He came to my side and helped me up off the closet floor.
“If you really think Margaux is No. 7, then what are you going to do about it?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but I can’t let her know I know.”
I turned my back to him and he undid my wet dress so I could peel it off and change.
“This is not at all what I had in mind when I pictured taking this dress off you.” He grumbled.
“Ari!” I scolded him. “This is serious.”
I grabbed the first dress I saw out of her closet and threw it on, “we are leaving, now. Make up an excuse and let’s go!”
Chills ran down my spine as I tried to gain composure.
“Don’t panic. She won’t try anything now; there are twelve witnesses downstairs.”
“Ari, please! Let’s leave!” I begged.
Ari stopped me at the top of the steps.
“Take a deep breath. Calm down. We’ll leave and we will figure out what to do. I promise.”
We walked back down the staircase and found that the guests had all retired to the lounge, where they were sipping wine and talking again about baio.
“Margaux,” Ari interrupted the conversation. “I am so sorry to have to do this, but Ava and I have run into a small emergency and we need to get going.” He held up his cell phone and shook it in his hand, as if the gesture would prove there was a real emergency.
Margaux stood up, “oh, I am so disappointed, dears. I hope everything is alright.”
“I’m sure it will be,” he gave an inviting, easy smile. “I’ll see you all on Monday. Have a good rest of the evening!”
Margaux walked us to the door and I couldn’t help but shudder. She turned to me and for one very small second her black eyes flashed a sad, worried blue. She wrapped me up in a small, soft hug but before I could even give her a quizzical glance, she had gone back to her hard, mean self, with her usual fake smile plastered across her face. Margaux’s cold hand held on to mine. She gave it a tight squeeze, so tight that my hand hurt … then she wished us both well as she shut the door.
As soon as Ari opened the car door, my phone began to ring.
I answered it quickly and found August on the other line yelling at me in French.
“Stop. Slow down. What’s wrong?” I demanded.
“Collin has been working on this damn message of yours and is seriously freaked out!”
“Okay, August, what is it that has him upset? What did he find?”
August talked a hundred miles a minute and explained what Collin had unearthed. For the most part, Collin had decoded what I had already known; that I am a Fate and was being hunted. I frowned in disappointment.
“How much of the journal has he gotten through? Is there any more?”
August sighed, “There’s loads more to work through, Ava. But count Collin out; I don’t want to see him this upset ever again.”
“Okay, okay, chill.”
“He did put together one thing that’s a bit odd though.”
“What?”
I heard the shifting and rustling of papers moving in the background.
Reading from whatever he held in his hand he said, “Margaux loved you so greatly that she made a deal to save you.”