by Mac Flynn
"Maggie? You awake?" her father called from the living room.
She frowned and glanced at the clock. The face showed her usual alarm time of eight. She slid off the bed and wandered into the hall. Her father stood at the end with an apron over a clean set of work clothes and a spatula in his hand.
Robert looked her up and down, and frowned. "Did you sleep in your clothes?"
Maggie glanced down at herself and blushed. "I-I guess I did."
Her father smiled and walked over to her. He clasped their hands together with the spatula between them. "Well, you don't have anything to worry about anymore. I received a text message from the company this morning. I've been reinstated, and the company wants me to be there in an hour to see my new office."
Maggie's eyes widened and her face nearly split with her wide smile. "Really?"
He grinned and nodded. "Really really."
She jumped into his arms and gave him a nice, tight hug. "I'm so glad!"
He returned the hug before he pulled them apart. His shimmering eyes studied her beaming face. "And it's all thanks to you. You really saved us, you and Mr. Forrest." At mention of the handsome man's name she blushed. Her father frowned. "Are you feeling okay?" He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. "No fever, but I wonder if all this stress has got to you, or maybe I gave you what I had."
Maggie shook her head. "I'm fine, really, just a little-well, maybe a little tired."
Robert grinned and raised the spatula. "But maybe not too tired to have some pancakes before I go to work? My treat."
She laughed and looped her arm through his to lead him to the kitchen. "I'm definitely not too tired for that."
They ate and parted ways, the father to his work and the daughter to her thoughts. She sat down on the edge of a couch cushion with her mirror in hand and looked into the reflective glass.
Maggie took a deep breath. "Show me Adrian."
The surface of the mirror shifted and warped. The view of the living room transformed into an entrance hall similar to the one in her dream. Adrian walked down a flight of stairs to the left. He was dressed in a fine dark-blue suit with a white tie and undershirt.
Adrian greeted an older gentleman in a plain gray suit, and close beside them stood the servant from last night. The gray-suited gentleman turned his face toward the mirror's view. Maggie tilted her head to one side and furrowed her brow. He looked very familiar. She squinted and leaned so close to the glass her nose brushed against the surface.
Adrian's head whipped up. He turned and looked straight into her eyes. Maggie gasped and started back. The view in the mirror faded and returned to its reflective self. She shook herself and frowned.
"Did he. . .did he just see me?" she whispered.
Maggie set the mirror face-down on the coffee table and stood. She eyed the back of the glass with suspicion as she backed away. The young woman snatched her coat and book bag from her bedroom and her coat from beside the door. She paused in the doorway on her way out and glanced over her shoulder. The mirror still lay where she'd left it. Maggie pursed her lips, but her eyes flickered to an out-of-place object on the kitchen counter.
Her dad's lunch.
Maggie's shoulders drooped and a small smile slipped onto her lips as she pulled out her cell phone. She dialed his number.
"Hello, Sweetie, what can I do for you?" her father answered.
Maggie rolled her eyes. "You forgot your lunch, Dad."
"I did?" There was a brief pause and she heard paper's shuffling. A car horn honked. "Well, what do you know. I guess I was just so excited I forgot it, but tell you what: how about you and I have lunch together? My treat."
"Sounds great, Dad. What time?"
A place and time were decided, and Maggie hung up the phone. She glanced at the coffee table. The mirror sat there as still as ever. She turned her back on the problem and hurried to her job at the university cafeteria.
A line snaked out of the cafeteria when she arrived. Maggie threw her personal items into her locker and hurried with her apron and hairnet into the kitchen.
"About time," one of her coworkers commented as she took her place on the dishwashing line. Three other people stood in front of tubs of soapy dishwater. Piles of dishes were stacked beside each one of them and beside her vacant tub.
Maggie took her place last in line among the unwashed and started scrubbing. A young woman stood beside her, and was the one who spoke. The stranger glanced in her direction. "Mind telling me why I had to make excuses for you so the boss wouldn't fire you?"
Maggie shrank and scrubbed faster. "I'm sorry, Tiff. I didn't sleep well."
Tiffany snorted. "From anybody else I'd know that meant you were messing around with someone, but from you I know there's something else wrong."
Maggie bit her lower lip. "My. . .my dad lost his job."
The woman beside her stopped her scrubbing. Her face fell as she turned her face toward Maggie. "Oh. That bad a news. I'm really sorry-" Maggie shook her head.
"No, it's okay. He got it back this morning."
The other two dishwashers, a guy and a girl, paused their scrubbing and leaned back to stare at her. Tiffany blinked at her. "Could you rewind what you said? I don't think I understood all that."
Maggie leaned into her tub as though looking for deeper dishes and turned her face away from her companions. "My dad was fired last night, but they changed their minds this morning."
Her friend leaned her arm over the side of the tub and arched an eyebrow. "But doesn't your dad work for that big Forrest company? How'd something that huge change their minds so fast?"
"What are you guys doing?" a voice barked. Maggie turned around to see a burly middle-aged man behind them. His sleeves were rolled up and a hairnet covered his thinning brown hair. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the washing crew. "The piranhas out there aren't going to slow down their eating to give you jabbers time to talk."
The four of them quickly resumed their work. The man watched them for a few minutes before he walked away.
The other woman pulled one of her hands from the suds and inspected the fingertips. "Why don't they get a real washing machine instead of ruining my cuticles?"
"They've got to pay those admin bonuses somehow," one of the guys quipped.
Tiffany glanced over her shoulder and then to Maggie. She leaned toward Maggie and her voice was barely a whisper. "Come on, out with the juicy details."
Maggie stared at her soapy water and shook her head. "There isn't anything to tell."
Tiffany snorted. "Yeah, and I was Valedictorian of my class. Nobody just gets their job back like that, not in this economy. Something must've happened. What'd your dad do again? Something with the finances?" Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "He didn't find dirt out on the company, did he?"
Maggie closed her eyes and sighed. She pulled her arms out of the tub and turned to face her friend. "I don't know what happened. All I know is he got his job back, okay?"
Tiffany held up her soap-dripping hands. "Okay, okay. Geez. You'd think I just asked you if you'd slept with your dad's boss to get his job back."
A heavy blush accented Maggie's cheek. She spun around to hide it, but her astute friend caught the red color. A sly smile slipped onto Tiffany's lips as she went back to scrubbing. She kept one eye on Maggie as she, too, resumed her work.
"Ya know, if you ever want to do a double-date just ask," Tiffany teased.
Maggie shrank deeper into her tub. "I don't want to talk about it."
Her friend shrugged. "All right, but don't say I didn't warn you about doing stuff like that. It isn't healthy for anybody. The guy could up and die of a heart attack."
A faint smile slipped onto Maggie's lips. "I don't think that's going to be a problem."
Tiffany frowned. "Man, you're mean." Her eyes flickered over the room before she leaned close to Maggie. "Now you've got to tell me the whole story, and I'm not going to take 'no' for an answer."<
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Maggie bit her lower lip. "I. . .I can't."
Tiffany arched an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"I promised not to tell."
Tiffany sighed and returned to her scrubbing. "All right, but if you need anything just holler, okay? I know that place you and your dad live in isn't very private."
She sighed, but nodded her head. "I will."
Maggie paused and glanced down at the soapy suds. Her mind took the bubbles and foam, and transformed them into Adrian's smiling face. A smile flitted across her lips, but the image and the smile were fleeting. Her imagination went further and morphed Adrian's face into that of the creature, his dangerous, alluring beast.
Maggie shook her head and the blush off her cheeks, and went back to her job before she didn't have a job.
7
The lunch hour arrived and Maggie hurried to a corner downtown. Her father was already there when she arrived, out of breath along with time.
He smiled down at her as she placed her hands on her knees and gasped for air. "Getting old?" he teased.
She straightened and smiled at him. "You'll always be ahead of me."
He winced. "Touche. Now let's go get some grub, I'm starved."
Robert offered his daughter his arm and led her down the street. Their destination was a nice little bistro near the corner. Maggie tried to turn into the sunken entrance, but her father tugged on her arm.
He smiled and jerked his head down the street. "Not there, this way."
She blinked at him. "But you said-"
"I know what I said, now come on." He led her further down the street where the restaurants were larger and more expensive. They turned into the doorway of one of the swankiest places on the block, a fine-dining business that advertised slices of steak worth more than an entire week of her salary.
Maggie dug in her heels and pursed her lips. She swept her eyes over the marquee over the door and looked to her father. "Dad, I know you want to celebrate, but isn't this a little too much?"
He smiled and winked at her. "Not anymore, but come on. I said this was my treat."
She kept her heels dug into the sidewalk and glanced inside. "But I'm not dressed for this place."
"You're my daughter, and that's good enough for me, now come on before my lunch hour ends," he insisted.
Robert led her inside where a male staff member in a black suit stood behind a podium. He looked down his long nose at them and his voice was thick with disdain. "May I help you?"
Mr. O'Hara nodded. "Yes, we have a reservation for two at Mr. Forrest's table."
Maggie whipped her head to her father. The head waiter's eyes widened. He looked down at his open guest list and pressed his finger beside one of the top rows. His narrowed eyes flickered up to O'Hara. "I don't seem to have a name for that table today."
O'Hara slapped his palm against his forehead. "Of course, the card." He fumbled in his pants suit pocket and pulled out a card. "I was told to give you this?"
Maggie caught sight of the card as it exchanged hands. There was an emblem of a yellow crescent moon in the center of the black card, and below it was a handwritten signature.
The employee took the card and smiled. He bowed his head to them. "I see. This changes everything." He passed back the card and gestured for a waiter to hurry over. "Would you please show Mr.-"
"Mr. O'Hara and daughter," Robert spoke up.
"Mr. O'Hara and his daughter to Mr. Forrest's table?" the head waiter finished.
His subordinate bowed his head and turned to us with a smile. "If you would follow me."
Robert offered his daughter her arm, and she took it in a daze before they followed their waiter into the dining area. The small tables were covered in crisp white tablecloths and small vases of flowers. Along the walls ran booths with plush red cushioned seats. The waiter took them to the far corner and seated them at one of those booths.
He handed them each a menu. The material was cloth and a rich satin, and the courses were written in a flowery type. The wine selection was longer than most restaurant menus.
The waiter pulled out a notepad and pen. "Would you like anything with which to start your meal? Wine, perhaps, or some food?"
O'Hara glanced at her daughter. She shrugged. He smiled and turned back to the waiter. "I think we're going to need some time."
The waiter smiled and bowed his head. "Very good, sir. I'll return in a few minutes."
Maggie scooted close to her father and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me you wanted to come here? I could have changed before I came."
He chuckled. "I didn't know it myself until I got to work. I met with Mr. Audrey, he's one of Mr. Forrest's personal assistants, and he informed me that not only was I to have a new office, but as a long-time employee I was being allowed certain perks." He pulled out the card and held it up. "That's what this is. It's a pass into some very select places in the city. Mr. Audrey gave me a list, so that's how I knew we could come here."
Maggie frowned. "Mr. Audrey? Why didn't your supervisor meet with you?"
Her father shook his head. "No. He had an early appointment elsewhere. I didn't pry beyond that, especially when Mr. Audrey informed me that my salary had been raised."
Maggie's eyes widened. "It has? Why?"
O'Hara leaned back and studied his daughter with a soft smile. "Whatever you told Mr. Forrest last night had quite the effect on him."
Maggie shrank in her chair. "That makes two of us. . ." she murmured.
"Pardon?"
She shook her head. "It's nothing. So what else happened? Did he part the ocean for you?"
Her father chuckled. "Nothing quite so dramatic or Biblical.
"And the guy you had trouble with?" she wondered.
He smiled and shook his head. "There will be trouble no more. He's being demoted, or so I guessed from my conversation with Audrey. He also assured me I wouldn't have any more problems with my supervisor."
She studied the tablecloth and pursed her lips. "Does. . .does your supervisor wear gray suits and has a handlebar mustache? And his hair is pretty thin and he combs it back?"
Her father arched an eyebrow, but nodded. "That certainly sounds like him, but I'm surprised you remember him so well. I'm sure I only introduced you to him once, and that was several years ago."
Maggie shrank in her chair and shrugged. "I-um, I think I just saw him a while ago, that's all, and I guess it clicked a memory inside me."
Robert smiled and nodded. "I see, that would be it. Anyway, no more talk of business. I want to celebrate." He signaled to the waiter who hurried over to their table. "A bottle of your finest wine, and don't tell me what the price is."
The waiter smiled. "Price is no concern for you, sir. Mr. Forrest covers all costs incurred for this table."
O'Hara turned to his daughter and grinned. "I'm starting to like this."
Maggie managed a small smile, but her instincts were warning her that trouble was brewing on the horizon.
8
The lunch was delicious, but Maggie couldn't enjoy the rich food. Her thoughts lay far away and down a particular driveway. She parted ways with her father and hurried back to their apartment. The mirror was still on the coffee table.
Maggie grabbed the mirror and turned it so the glass faced her. "Show me Adrian." The surface remained reflective. She frowned and gave it a shake. "Show me Adrian."
Nothing happened. She dropped the mirror to her side and pursed her lips as her eyes swept over the room. The unease she had since the beginning of lunch sank deeper into her. She was sure the man she saw in the mirror was her father's supervisor.
That wasn't what worried her, however. What worried her was Adrian looking at her and seemingly shutting the mirror off. She wasn't so stupid that she didn't recognize a hide when she saw one.
Maggie raised the mirror and looked at the glass. Her tense face stared back at her. She sighed. "Time to go for a ride. . ."
Maggie left a note for her dad
telling him she had a late study session and, with the mirror in her possession, she hurried to the car. The sun was on its way to the dark horizon as she drove the winding bay road. The crashing waves mimicked her anxious thoughts as she turned onto the bumpy driveway.
The thick canopy of tree limbs above the road forced Maggie to flick on her headlights. The darkness slipped over the car and sank into her bones. She shivered, but not from cold. The thick air and shadows stirred within her a tantalizing lust, one she found difficult to quash. Her determination to find the truth battled against a growing desire to see the monstrous master of the house.
Maggie shut her eyes and shook her head. "Snap out of it! You're not here for that."
A tiny voice inside her head argued with her, but she ignored it. Nothing good would come out of those types of thoughts.
Except some fun she found herself thinking.
Maggie pursed her lips and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. "Get yourself together, Maggie. You want to know about the mirror and what you say, that's-" She reached the turnaround and found a surprise.
A sporty red car was parked in the center of the road. The sun shown through the opening canopy and glistened off the shimmering paint. She directed her car between the trees and the other vehicle, and stepped out with the mirror clasped tightly in one hand. Her attention was drawn to the flashy license plate.
"I-B-4-N-1," she read aloud. Maggie wrinkled her nose as her mind deciphered the hidden message. "I break for no one." She shook her head and turned her attention to the house that loomed in the short distance.
Maggie walked up to the gate. The entrance was closed. Her foot slipped in the soft earth. She stumbled, but caught herself and in so doing looked at the ground. Long, thick footprints stood in front of the stone column with the intercom.
Maggie furrowed her brow and side-stepped the footprints. She leaned down and pressed the button. "Hello?"
There was a pause and then a familiar voice crackled over the intercom. "Good afternoon, Maggie. Please come inside."
It was just like in her dream. The gate opened, this time with a high-pitched squeak, and she walked past the high wall and into the large front yard. The tall trees covered her from the gleam of sunlight as she walked beneath their branches. She felt like a shadow scuttling back to its master after a long day of separation.