Why were we still doing this? Part of me worried that if I backed out of the contract now that sense of distance that Victor had worked so hard to maintain only a few weeks ago might come creeping back, maybe permanently. But another part of me thought we were past that. The end of the three month contract period was coming up and I would have to make a decision soon.
The sound of Victor’s footsteps on the stairs pulled me from my thoughts. I quickly refocused on the prints and began organizing them into their possible layouts.
My makeout session with Victor seemed to do the trick—ten minutes later I had settled on a final arrangement for the exhibit. I was quickly packing up my things before the doubt could have a chance to settle in again when I heard the doorbell ring. Did Victor forget he had a meeting? Or maybe he was trying to get me away from my work again. I rushed to the front door, hoping it was only a delivery man, and opened it to find a young man just a few inches taller than me with honey-blonde hair cropped short to his head. It was as though I were standing in front of some alternate universe mirror. We were staring at each other with the same dark eyes flecked with gold, except his were red with unshed tears.
“W-who are you?” I asked as my knees began shaking and I had to lean against the doorframe for support. My body seemed to be aware of something that my mind couldn’t register.
The man laughed, tears finally spilling down his face. “You can’t be serious, Caitlyn. It’s me, Charles. I can’t believe it’s really you!” He stepped toward me, his arms opening slightly as if he wanted to hug me.
“Do I know you?” I managed to say as I stepped backward, away from his embrace. He quickly pulled back from me as if he’d been slapped, clearly hurt by my recoiling.
“Caitlyn,” he said, his voice breaking as tears welled in his eyes. “I’m your brother.”
Chapter Twenty
I tried to steady myself against the frame of the front door as I registered what this man had said to me—my brother? He had to be lying; after spending two years alone it seemed impossible that I could belong to a family. But what could he gain by trying to convince me that I was his sister? Sure, Victor was a wealthy and powerful man, but I didn’t have access to his money or his connections. I couldn’t be much use for getting at him.
“Look, I think you have the wrong house or something. I don’t know you,” I said, attempting to appear as though I had regained my composure even though I could feel the quick beat of my heart in my chest. As I looked at him, I couldn’t deny the clear resemblance between us—the waves in his honey-brown hair, the gold flecks in his eyes, even the thin line of his lips were features I encountered every day when I looked at myself in the mirror.
“What? Caitlyn, it’s me.” Why was he calling me that? Could he not see that the name meant nothing to me?
“There’s no Caitlyn here. My name is Dove.”
He narrowed his eyes at me in confusion. “What has Victor Draper done to you?”
I wasn’t sure how he knew about Victor, but I found myself quickly becoming defensive. “He hasn’t done anything to me.”
“I saw the two of you in the Enquirer,” he said, his voice suddenly accusatory. “That’s how I found you. You were wearing some ballroom gown and fawning all over him.” Charles looked around the foyer, his eyes skimming over the porcelain vases, the marbled floor, and the staircase spiraling up to the second floor. “What are you giving him in exchange for all this?”
“Nothing!”
“Are you sleeping with him?”
I drew in a sharp breath and clenched my fists, barely able to contain my anger. “You need to leave.”
“Wait! I can prove it,” he shouted as I began to close the door on him. “I can prove that I’m your brother.”
Despite the rage stirring in me, his words drew me away from my anger and I opened up the door almost in spite of myself. “How?”
“Here.” He quickly pulled a phone from his pocket and handed it to me, and the breath seemed to be knocked out of my body as I realized what I was looking at. The background on his phone was a photo of a married couple with their arms around one another and two young people on either side of them—Charles on the left and me on the right. I had the same waist-length hair and a wide, toothy smile on my face.
“She certainly looks like me. Where was this taken?”
“St. Petersburg, in Florida. We used to go on family vacations there every Spring break. Do you believe me now?”
“I don’t—”
“What’s going on?” Victor’s booming voice traveled down the foyer to us. We both turned our heads in his direction, his magnetism affecting not only me but Charles as well. He spotted me first but quickly turned his attention to Charles, lowering his eyes in a skeptical glare. “Who is this?” His voice was laced with distrust.
Charles took a step back toward the door but his gaze seemed fixed on Victor’s towering form. “You. What have you done to my sister?” Charles said venomously. I looked to Victor and saw the handsome, broad shouldered man that had taken me body and soul for the past few months. Victor was dressed in a fitted blue suit and red tie and had his hair stylishly disheveled. Even now in front of this stranger and in a completely inappropriate situation, I wanted to run over to him and press my body against his.
“Sister?” Victor asked, confused.
“Yes. My sister, Caitlyn. Or should I say Dove.” Charles walked up to Victor with his shoulders pulled back and his fists balled up by his sides as if he planned on throwing a punch. “It doesn’t matter now. I came here to bring her home.”
At that, I lost control of my temper and snapped. I didn’t even know this man but now he was making a claim on me. “Home? What the hell is the matter with you? I’m not some object you can pick up and put down when you feel like it. I don’t even know you!”
Charles seemed to deflate as his shoulders fell. “Jesus, I’m sorry I—”
“Why are you in my home unannounced?” Victor snapped. “And what the hell kind of lies are you telling Dove?”
It was then that I finally found my legs. I walked over to where Victor stood and turned around to stare at Charles. He did look like me, and I couldn’t deny that I was in the photo he showed me. He might be my brother, but he had shown up on Victor’s doorstep no more than twenty minutes ago and now he was trying to drag me “home” like some trophy. I couldn’t just believe everything he was telling me.
“I’m not leaving with him,” I said to Victor as I took his clenched fist in my hand.
“Dove, is this true? Is he your brother?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think I would know my sister when I see her,” Charles interjected. He gave me a meaningful look.
“Caitlyn, listen to me: you were in a car accident over two years ago. Mom and Dad didn’t make it, but when emergency vehicles arrived you were nowhere to be found. I’ve been looking for you ever since that night. I still can’t believe that I’m standing here looking at you. I feel like I’m dreaming.” Tears began to form in his eyes.
I stared at him wordlessly as he began to cry in front of us. I couldn’t help but remain skeptical even as he relayed the story of the accident to me. But it would make sense that I had gotten into some horrible accident—I did wake up with all of those cuts and with that horrible bump on my head.
“How do I know that you didn’t read about the accident in the paper or something?” I asked warily, feeling drained from the arguing. “How do I know this isn’t all just some story or scam?”
Charles sighed. He picked up his jacket from the ground and shook out the wrinkles before he spoke. “Can I talk to you without him glowering at me like I’m about to kidnap you?”
I looked over at Victor. Whether or not Charles was in fact my brother, I knew that I needed to get to the bottom of it. I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “If you don’t mind, I would like to talk to Charles for a bit outside.” I could see Victor’s jaw clench as he co
nsidered what I had said. I knew that it was his contractual duty to protect me, and given how he reacted when I was alone with Pedro for five minutes, I could only imagine how difficult it would be for him to leave me alone with Charles.
After a minute, Victor gave me an imploring look before finally conceding, giving me a small nod of approval.
I sighed and turned back to Charles. “Let’s go outside.”
Charles looked from me to Victor, confusion apparent on his face over the silent communication that had transpired between us. “All right.”
We left the mansion, walking down the stairs leading from the front door and around the corner.
“This place is massive,” Charles said, staring at the horses grazing under the sun and the painstakingly pruned flowers in the garden. “How long has he been keeping you—I mean how long have you been living here?”
I tried to ignore his comment as I considered his question, not wanting to start another fight. I had lost track of time, truthfully. “More than a month… maybe two. Some of it has been in Paris, though.”
“Paris?”
“Victor took me.” I wished I was still there, in that lovely penthouse up in the clouds. I missed walking through the Louvre with Victor, when everything was so new and my love for him wasn’t yet realized. There was no confusion, just the discovery of each other.
“Man, this guy is loaded.”
I took a deep breath, ignoring Charles’ words that were perhaps tinged with jealousy. “I’m sorry that I’m being so suspicious,” I said. “This is just all so sudden.”
“Take a look at this.” Charles took out his phone again, and his fingers flew on the touchpad for a moment. “After you went missing, I created a website dedicated to finding you. I put up your picture, your name, and where the accident was. I hadn’t had any real leads until I saw your picture in the tabloids,” he said. “I had the most current picture of you put up on the site. It’s your college graduation photo.”
I stared down at the small screen. My body grew cold as I stared at the image of myself wearing a black graduation cap and gown. I had never allowed myself to think that I had left a real life behind, not until now. Above the picture were the words “Have you seen this woman?” Below the picture was the name “Caitlyn Ray.”
“Caitlyn Ray.” The name sounded so foreign coming out of my mouth, but I had to test it out. It was pretty, but not as pretty as Dove. I fingered the ivory dove pin that Victor had given me, I almost always had it pinned to my blouse above my breast. “My last name was Ray?” I tried to wrap my head around the idea that I wasn’t just Dove, that I had a full name.
“Was? It still is. You’re still Caitlyn.” Charles was beginning to sound desperate, as though he didn’t quite believe it himself. “Please, tell me what happened. I want to hear it from you.”
I continued to stare at the picture of myself. Where should I start? I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out at first. I stared out across the green pastures of Victor’s estate as a few migratory geese flew overhead, calling out to one another. I was beginning to feel lightheaded again. I didn’t want to be bombarded with memories of my homeless past. “Can we sit down?” I asked.
“Yeah, of course.”
I led him to a bench in the middle of Victor’s flower garden. Bunches of hydrangeas were planted on either side of the bench, and the slight breeze filled the air with a sweet fragrance. “I don’t remember anything about the accident, I knew nothing about it until today. My first memory is waking up on the sidewalk in San Francisco in the middle of the night.” I fiddled with a lock of my hair. “I didn’t know where I was or how I had gotten there, I didn’t even know my own name. For the next two years, I lived on the streets, and until Victor came along, I had kind of accepted things as they were.”
Charles shook his head, as though he couldn’t quite believe the words I was saying to him. “Why didn’t you ask for help? You could’ve gone to the police.”
I watched Butterscotch nibbling grass in the distance. “I was scared. I thought I had done something terrible enough that my family didn’t want me anymore.” I chuckled. “It seems kinds of ridiculous now, but how else could I explain it? I woke up with a huge bump on my head. The accident must be how I lost my memory.”
“Oh, Caitlyn.”
“Dove,” I corrected him. “That’s my name now. Caitlyn doesn’t mean anything to me. And I’m not sure if it ever will, I’m sorry.”
Charles shook his head and bit his lip as if he wanted to say something to me, probably about my new name, but he composed himself and sighed. “Did you come up with that?”
“No, Victor did.”
“He named you?” he asked with disgust.
“I didn’t have a name Charles, what was I supposed to do?”
“Don’t you think that’s kind of possessive? I want to know what’s going on between you two.”
“Why is it any of your business? Brother or not, I’m an adult and I can do what I want with my life.”
“It’s my business because I’m your family! I don’t want some man using you.”
I tensed up at the accusation. “I’m sorry but to me you’re just a stranger. What I do with Victor is none of your business.”
“Can you at least tell me if he’s your boyfriend?”
I hesitated before I answered. “Yes.” Something like that. It was a safe enough term at that point.
Charles gave me an admonishing look. “I’ve always been able to tell when you’re lying.”
I felt heat creep into my cheeks from embarrassment. Part of me wanted to completely disregard the idea of him being my brother, but something deep down told me that he wasn’t lying. Not only did he have pictures of me, but he seemed to truly care about my well being. “I think I believe that you’re my brother,” I began as I stared off into the pasture. “I’m sorry this is taking me awhile to process, but for the past few weeks I really believed that I found my identity when I met Victor.” I looked back at him. “He offered me work as a maid in exchange for food and shelter, and then he helped me land a job at an art gallery.”
“So, you’re like his mistress?” he seethed.
“Will you shut up?!” The words came out before I even had the chance to think. I clamped my hands over my mouth. “I’m sorry.”
Charles just threw his head back and laughed. “That was such a Caitlyn moment,” he said as he wiped a tear of mirth from his eye. “I know you’re inside there somewhere.”
I looked at him, speechless. Was my real self trapped inside of me? Perhaps I had always known that to be true, why else would I have gone to see a neurologist? He had told me that I might be able to uncover my memories on my own. Maybe this is what he meant.
Charles took my hands in his. “Listen, you don’t need to do this anymore. You can come home with me and live your life again.”
“I’m not being held captive here Charles. Victor and I understand each other.” Well, that was a small lie; Victor and I had a ways to go before that would happen, but what he did to me in the bedroom definitely indicated some kind of understanding, of my body at least. I knew what I was getting myself into when I started living in Victor’s house. And if I had any questions about how the contract worked, Victor answered them pretty clearly while I was working in the parlor that first day. I smiled at the memory.
Charles shook his head in disbelief, probably catching on to my lie again. “I’ve been staying in Mom and Dad’s house since I flew over here. Everything is just the way you left it before the accident. I want to take you there. Maybe if you see some old pictures and look through your room you’ll remember something.”
It was strange. I had been so completely sure that I had no interest in my past life; I even said so to Victor when I had failed to remember anything after the visit to the neurologist. But to have a chance to know my real family again? I was suddenly feeling torn. He had to be my brother; all signs pointed to it, and deep down I wanted it to
be true.
Would Victor even care if I left? After all, he was only bound to me by contract.
“I’ll think about it.”
Obvious relief washed over Charles’s face. “Great, that’s great.”
“Would you like to have dinner with us?” I felt the need to reconcile Charles and Victor, and to get to know the man who might be my brother.
“Do you think that’ll be okay?”
“It’ll be fine, I just have to run to the gallery to finish up some work. Come back at six thirty?”
“Are you sure Victor won’t mind?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “There’s no way Victor would say no to having dinner with my brother.”
Chapter Twenty-one
The dash to and from work to deliver my selections for the curation of the art show went by in a blur. Before I knew it, I was meeting Charles at the front door of Victor’s mansion. Again.
It was a strange feeling to walk into the dining room and not be helping with chores.The smell of Betty’s cooking greeted us as we stepped into the room. Charles couldn’t help but gawk at the surroundings; I realized that the setting I had gotten used to so quickly over the past few months was really quite exceptional. I sniffed at the aroma coming from the kitchen and recognized the scent of lemon herb chicken, one of Betty’s very best dishes. My stomach growled. I realized through all the excitement that I had let myself become famished.
Charles breathed in the mouthwatering scent as well. “Do you get dinners like this every night?” he asked.
“More or less,” I said with a smile. “Just wait until we eat. It tastes even better than it smells, if you can believe it.”
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