The weather was also noticeable to the young woman. It wasn’t until she came to Somerset during the winter that Maggie truly realized how spoiled she was. She did like the cold, but cold to her was sixty-four degrees, not below zero. Constantly, she was shivering. Luckily her mother told her to buy her first winter coat to take with her on her trip.
And finally, the spacing was different. Everything in Somerset was tight and compact until you got to the outskirts of the city, where the woods and the forests were. In Orange County, it was hard to go somewhere without seeing palm trees or a field of some sort. Yes, she did miss her home, but Somerset was so fascinating and so fast-paced. Sometimes, change was good, if only temporary.
They drove through the city until they started getting close to the outskirts where the woods began. Maggie couldn’t exactly people-watch anymore, but she took in the bare trees, the emptiness that permeated the Black Woods. Everything was so still, it was almost creepy.
When they reached the one-story, six-bedroom mansion, Maggie’s mouth dropped open, her brown eyes widening. This was where she was going to live now? The roof was triangle-shaped and red-brown. The material of the house itself looked like stone but Maggie wasn’t sure if it really was stone. There was a paved driveway with multi-colored tile. Glass lanterns hung in front of the entranceway and light spilled out from the majority of the long, rectangular windows. There was grass on either side of the driveway with some green shrubbery under two opposing windows and tall trees in the back. There was also a separate home just beyond the black metal gate that kept unwanted strangers from walking on his land. She figured the garage must be in the back, even though Charles pulled up in front of the main entrance.
“Master Stewart is not home yet,” Charles explained once he opened the door for Maggie and stepped aside so she could get out easily. “I’ll show you to your room and you’ll have time to unpack. From there, the house is yours.”
---
By the time eight o’clock rolled around, Maggie had unpacked, explored her room, called her aunt and her friends, and decided she was hungry and wanted to make some dinner. Currently, Maggie was in the kitchen, making chicken alfredo. She was boiling the water when she heard the door swing open. She took a step back and tilted her head back, looking from the kitchen doorway into the main hallway, where a man stood. It looked as though he had just gotten home from work. He was tall, probably six foot one, with medium-length brown hair that seemed to have been originally pushed from his face, but upon coming home, his locks freed themselves from their confines and rested on different places on his face, framing it somewhat. From where she was standing, she couldn’t quite make out the color of his eyes; they looked brown, but the light in the hallway revealed flecks of green scattered in the iris. He had an oval face, with sharp features that while angled, were also soft at the same time. She found a particular fascination begin to brim inside of her concerning his nose; it was strong and slim and turned down. His lips were thin but sharp, and Maggie mused what his smile might do to his handsome face. He almost looked upset today; his facial features taut and strained. As he removed his large, corduroy trench coat, she noticed that he was wearing a very spiffy suit, but Maggie, for the life of her, could not give a brand name. She also noticed his figure was very svelte. He was definitely handsome.
At that moment, Christian glanced at her and gave her a polite smile. “Hi,” he greeted in a soft-spoken voice, walking towards her and holding out his hand. “I’m Christian Stewart. I just wanted to thank you for coming so soon.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Maggie replied, taking his hand. It was warm and soft. There didn’t seem to be any fresh calluses, which Maggie found somewhat disappointing. He obviously worked at some kind of office, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something active with his hands. “I actually wanted to thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Stewart.”
“Please, call me Christian,” he said, flashing her a smile as he released her hand. She smiled in return; his smile proved to be crooked, with two straight, white rows of teeth, and protruding canine teeth. Well, there was one thing that added a story to his face.
“Oh,” Maggie said, shaking her head, momentarily stunned by her reaction to his simple smile. A shy grin crawled onto her face, and she knew that she was turning red. “It’s nice to meet you. Again.”
Shit, she was starting to sound like an asshole.
Christian couldn’t help but chuckle, and it sounded almost like a melodious bark - deep, low, and quick. Maggie couldn’t help but giggle along with him, although she wasn’t exactly sure as to why. She turned her attention back to the stove, where a small skillet skewered with oil was boiling rather noisily. The young woman walked over to the sink where two thick pieces of chicken breasts had finished thawing. She grabbed them and carefully placed them in the skillet and then poured the noodles into the boiling water.
“What’s this?” Christian asked after coming up behind Maggie. His eyes roamed over a thick, black book that looked as though it belonged to an earlier time period. There was no writing on the covers, or on the binding. His eyes flickered over to Maggie, who was still calmly stirring the noodles in the pot.
“That,” Maggie began, throwing a glance at the book, “is my grandmother’s cookbook.” She paused as she returned her attention back to the sizzling chicken. Hurriedly, she began to cut them up with the edge of the wooden spoon she was using, before flipping the pieces over. “She gave it to me as a gift when she heard I was moving here for however long I decide to stay here. She was incredibly worried that I’d be in this big city with no clue how to cook.” She smiled warmly at the memory of her grandmother. “She always told me that the best way to impress somebody was to cook really well. I, myself, am not practiced in this art quite yet, but I figured that I can kill two birds with one stone by learning such a skill while feeding me and you every night.”
“Have you burnt anything yet?” Christian asked with a devilish twinkle in those jade green eyes of his.
“Excuse me?” Maggie said with a surprised smile. “I should ask you, sir,” she said, taking on a different tone to her voice, “that you not jinx me.”
“I do apologize,” he said in the same tone Maggie took on. “Well, I should go get changed. While this suit is incredibly expensive and dapper, it’s actually uncomfortable, especially since I can’t exactly move in it unless I want wrinkles to break out in the material, which would just be plain embarrassing.” With that, he turned and left the kitchen, heading up the stairs.
Maggie followed him with her eyes, tilting her head to the side slightly as her brow pushed together on its own accord. She wasn’t exactly expecting something so self-conscious to come out of his interestingly shaped mouth.
Chapter 5
Upon waking up the next morning, Christian realized something: the reason why he had woken up a bit earlier than normal was because he smelled bacon – fresh, sizzling bacon. He sat up, rubbing the top of his head as he allowed a yawn to take control of his face for a moment, and then rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
Throwing his long legs over the side of the bed, he rubbed his face once more and yawned again. First thing on his agenda was a long, hot shower. He walked into his large, marble-based shower after disposing of his Ralph Lauren pajamas on the sink counter nearby. He stepped into the already-steaming water, and he let out a satisfied smile cross his features. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back and for a moment, simply enjoyed the feel of water outline his svelte shape. After a moment, he let his mind journey.
The first thought he came across was the new woman living under his roof. It was hard not to dwell on her obvious beauty. The way her brows raised or pushed together; the way her eyes shined or sparkled; the way her lips either pulled back to reveal a full set of straight teeth or encased around them and instead curled into a humble smile. Her freckles scattered themselves mercilessly across her high cheekbones and along the bridge of his nose, and he began to
develop a desire to count each one.
And yet, there was also the mysterious beauty that hid behind her distracting physical appearance. He felt himself yearn to understand why her brows expressed themselves in the way they did; why her eyes chose to shine instead of sparkle and vice versa; and why she chose to smile happily or alluringly. He wanted to know what was going on in her mind, what her thoughts were on various subjects, and what her preferences were.
At this point in his thought process, he chuckled in amusement at where his mind had led him. He was over a thousand years old and his mind reverted back to the way he usually wondered about things when he was younger. Shaking his head, he silently began to chastise himself.
Trouble, he thought. This is all that’s going to come from this. Trouble.
Christian, however, also recognized that he had never felt this way about somebody before, which was probably why he viewed it from such a safe, amused point. This sudden infatuation with the clichéd donor was hard for him to wrap his mind around. In fact, he knew there was no use in trying to rationalize why he liked her or why he shouldn’t like her because this feeling wasn’t rational. It was just a crush anyways. He wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Again, he shook his head, but this time to rid his mind of Maggie Jarrett’s face. Maggie picked clothes that were comfortable rather than fashionable. Judging from the pictures Christian had seen gracing her Facebook profile, he knew she had a very nice body, but instead of showing it off, she seemed to hide it more, not because she was insecure, but because she liked what she was wearing. In all honesty, it was quite refreshing to Christian seeing someone so secure with herself.
Once the water began to run lukewarm, he turned the shower off and grabbed a fluffy white towel. Padding carefully over to the sink, he wrapped the towel around his hips and then wiped the steam from his window. Now he would have to make one of the most important decisions of the day: what to wear. He turned from the mirror and opened a nearby door. Christian purposefully had his closet attached to his bathroom as well as his bedroom to make it easier for him to reach. He emerged himself in it now, his eyes carefully scanning row upon row of new and finely pressed suits. Because of this long and, at times, grueling process, Christian woke up earlier than normal so he wouldn’t feel pressured to pick any old suit in hopes to walk in his office on time. In fact, if worst ever came to worst, Christian would rather show up to work late with a really good suit on than the other way around, and he didn’t see anything wrong with this.
After twenty-five pensive minutes, he finally decided on a navy blue single-breasted Armani suit. It took him another fifteen minutes to dress, and then style his hair in the way he usually did. He took a very small drop of hair gel and pushed his medium-length hair back, out of his face. He had nearly perfected the amount that it would take to hold for his usual work day, and he took pride in this important discovery in maintaining a perfect appearance. Once he finished with that, he studied the lower half of his face, making sure there were no pesky whiskers occupying his otherwise smooth face before putting a small amount of aftershave on. Now, he would go have breakfast, and then he would brush his teeth. Once that was completed, he was ready to head into work.
Christian headed down the stairs, the scent of bacon increasing, causing his stomach to rumble hungrily. As he neared the end of the stairway, he heard Prince’s “Kiss” flow through the room, and then bursts of giggles. Cocking a brow, he walked into the room while fixing a cufflink on his shirt. What he saw surprised him. Maggie was cooking what appeared to be eggs, bacon, and sausage.
At the sound of his laughing, Maggie froze and all turned to look at their cause of interruption. Christian tried to conceal the smile on his face. It would seem as though Maggie was pretending to be amused by the situation. She began to laugh, a very contagious laugh. Christian could contain himself no longer, and soon, both were laughing.
Christian sat at the head of the table, where the daily newspaper was waiting for him. He picked up the first section and began to read, though his eyes kept looking up at the young woman who was almost finished preparing him breakfast. Unlike him, Maggie was still in her pajamas. Very loose, red plaid sweatpants hung off her slim body, while a small, long sleeved occupied her upper half. Her hair was swept up into a very loose bun, and it did not appear to be brushed. There was no trace of makeup that decorated her face, and despite dancing and laughing, she still looked relatively tired. However, through Christian’s eyes, she still looked remarkably beautiful. It baffled him to no end that she did not have to do anything special to look amazing while he worked hard to look good. He was not jealous, per se, but he did wish he could understand it. Perfection seemed to always elude him, and yet it had wrapped itself perfectly around this young woman. What baffled him even more was the fact that she did not even seem to know it.
A moment later, Maggie had dispensed breakfast among the two of them and poured a cup of coffee for Christian. She turned off the radio before taking her seat.
“This smells delicious, Maggie,” Christian stated honestly, folding the paper and placing it off to the side and focusing his attention on his food.
“Thank you,” Maggie replied with a smile.
Once they were nearly through with breakfast, Christian caught her eyes before standing, taking his plate in his hands.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Christian said. “We should discuss our arrangement soon.”
“I agree,” Maggie said, placing the dishes in the sink. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” She paused, and threw a glance up at him. Christian was standing beside her, placing his dishes in the sink as well. “Would you like me to pack you a lunch?”
“Yeah,” Christian said, meeting her eyes with his. “That would be great. If it’s no trouble to you, of course.”
“None at all,” Maggie assured him.
Christian headed back upstairs to brush his teeth. It took him two minutes to thoroughly floss and three minutes and thirty seconds at least before he felt satisfied that his teeth were clean. Once he finished, he made sure that there were no food particles caught in any difficult crevices of his teeth, and then did a quick but intent study of his hair. Once he was satisfied, he put on another very small amount of aftershave, before heading downstairs, ready to take on the day.
Maggie was waiting for him with a bagged lunch and synthetic blood. “You, too,” she said. “Have a good day at work.”
The statement surprised Christian slightly. His lips curled up into a smile and he nodded, acknowledging her statement. “Thank you,” he told her genuinely. “And you, as well.” He threw a glance around his surroundings. When his eyes returned to her, his smile added amusement in it. “Have a good day… at school?” He didn’t even know if she had class today.
Maggie chuckled. “Thank you,” she said and waited until Christian slipped out the door before heading up the stairs.
When Christian slid into the back of the town car and Charles returned to his seat, Christian leaned back against the cool leather.
“What do you think about Maggie?” Christian asked, looking up at his French driver. Charles had been like a father to Christian even though Christian was much older and Christian’s uncle had raised him. There was a warmth missing from Tristan, however, a warmth that Charles possessed. Christian highly valued Charles’s opinion. The man was an excellent judge of character.
“I like her,” Charles said, his eyes twinkling. “She calls me Charles.”
“I thought you preferred Charlie,” Christian said, pushing his eyebrows together.
“A common misconception,” Charles said nonchalantly. “Your uncle began calling me Charlie, and who was I to question him? Of course, you would assume it was my preference and I didn’t feel the need to correct you. But when we made the proper introductions, she asked me my preference, and I told it to her.”
“I’m sorry, Charlie – I mean Charles,” Christian said, finally relaxing his brows. He r
eminded himself he should not be furrowing his brow too often; he did not want to get any premature wrinkles. “It’ll take a bit, but I will call you Charles from now on.”
“It is much appreciated, sir,” Charles replied.
Chapter 6
Once Charles drove up to the familiar building, Christian said adieu to Charles before heading up the steps and into the skyscraper. Stewart Enterprises was a tall, sleek building with forty-four floors. Each floor had a purpose. The higher the floor, the higher the salary. Christian was located on the forty-third, while Barry was located on the forty-first floor. Mister Stewart, Christian’s uncle, was located on the very top floor. As Christian stepped into the elevator, he checked his reflection on the polished, silver doors, making sure everything was still in place. When he was satisfied, he felt himself relax and prepare for the very long elevator ride up.
Once the elevator bell alerted him of his arrival, Christian stepped out. As usual, Izzy and her bountiful bosom were there to greet him. Today, Izzy’s hair was teased and pulled back into a loose ponytail, and while her make-up wasn’t too dramatic, her top was rather tight and low-cut. Izzy was a slim woman, not incredibly pretty, but the tightness of this shirt made her look bigger than she was. Christian forced a smile back in her direction, wondering for the eighty-ninth time why her father hired her out of all people, and headed into his office.
“Good morning, Christian!” Izzy called in a sing-song voice, watching with a pleasant smirk as he retreated to his office. Normally, Izzy took his departures from her desk very personal but she always cheered herself up because she got to watch him leave. And Christian had such a nice derrière, that it was hard for her to stay mad at him for long. Plus, he would have to walk past her desk to leave anyway.
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