"He wanted her. She'd never tell. Secretly she wanted him as well."

Morgan Ann Bennett

A week in Penshaw.

Everyday was already becoming routine.

Wake up. Shower. Clean up after Malcolm except he was never home so the only rooms he dirtied included his bedroom and the kitchen.
Then I'd do some Pilates with an instructor I just found online. She was in town and just starting but I figured I'd keep my figure tight and be her first client.

Quinn was in daycare now so while Callie worked I didn't have to worry about watching her. I'd be happy about that if it didn't give me one less thing to do.

I think I need responsibility, something to do. Otherwise, I felt useless.

Whenever Malcolm was gone, I'd take the BMW into town.

If business was slow at Black Elk Lodge, I'd help out in the gift shop and café. When things were picking up, I kept myself busy somewhere else since I wasn't properly trained.

Mister and Misses Porter extended their stay at Red Sage B&B so I had them to talk to.

Adriel was cool, but I guess his little buddy, Chris, must've gotten to his head. Probably told him I'm no good. He's good at making shit up about me.
Whenever I would see Adriel around he would just "hi" and "bye" me. Men.

Callie said she met someone, but she wouldn't tell me who. She said he's cute and that I'd probably seen him around. I tried to guess, naming everyone I knew, and then going through her following list on Instagram. It could've been anyone so I didn't drive myself crazy about it.
I didn't want her getting involved with someone right away as she still needed to settle into this new role, but it's nice that when she is into someone, how excited she gets. It's like a whole new person, a better person, but for the wrong reasons. Again, men.

"Go fish," I yawned during the card game with the elderly couple.

"What did she say?" Asked Mr.Porter in a yell.

"Go fish!" his wife repeated as she knit a scarf.

"That's really pretty, Wilma," I complimented, trying to get out of the game.

"Why, thank you, hun," she hummed. "It's for little Quinn."

"She'll love it," I assured her.

When Mary walked in, I took the chance to follow her around.

"Hey, Morgan," she bubbled, carrying in a laundry basket full of towels and sheets from the line outside.

"Need a hand?" I asked her, walking through the mud room.

"No, but Carter actually might," she set up.

"Alright," I said, grabbing a glass of lemonade in case he was thirsty.

Carter spent most of his time at the b&b doing handiwork or helping Dale with landscaping.

I appreciated his willingness to help. It seems as if his son got that trait — although I mostly call it intervening— but never used it for good.

In actuality I didn't want to see Carter, I didn't even want to see Mary, really, they reminded me too much of their dickhead of a son, Chris.

Chris hadn't been to Malcolm's, or at least he didn't let me see him there.
I'm sure Malcolm had him over but Chris knew to keep his distance after our last round.

I can't pinpoint what I ever did to make him so pissed at me but now he's in the hot seat. He called me a whore, a slut, and judged me. Right to my face, not even respecting me enough to do it behind my back.

The dumbest part, I know I don't deserve his words but they cut deep. It's like, it's like I actually cared about what he thought of me. It's stupid.

Never before had I met someone who didn't instantly take a liking to me and it bothered me that I HAD NO IDEA WHY HE DIDN'T LIKE ME.

"Arghh, Captain Morgan," Carter made his voice like a pirate.

He watched me stare at him until I busted out laughing in place.

"That was terrible, Mr.Vaughn. I still haven't thought of a good one for you," I talked, handing over the cold glass.

He removed his gloves and wiped the sweat from his hairline.

"Thanks. What are you doing out here?"

"Waiting for Callie and Quinn to get gone," I sighed, kicking a stick about.

I leaned against his work van in my grey joggers, a navy graphic crew neck. I paired it with black high-top Converse and just a necklace and some rings. My hair draped well over my shoulders, reminding me that I needed a trim.

"The house is coming along great," I tried to say.

But it actually wasn't. I doubt he made any progress in the last week.

"But that's okay," I offered before he felt bad.

"Would've had a foundation if my son helped me," he spat.

I felt bad. "Maybe I can help you?"

"No offense, but with that manicure?" he cracked.

I peered at my seventy dollar manicure.

"It's just nails, I can get them done again," I said with a shrug.

"Malcolm must be treating you good?"

"Excuse me?"

Carter dropped his tool and read my face.

"Forget I said that, sorry," he croaked

"How did you know that?" I asked him, leaning in.

Carter squinted under the high June sun.

"People talk, it's a small town."

I looked right through him. "Chris?"

When Carter hung his head I knew I was right.

God, why can't Chris stop running his mouth?!

"What does he have against me?! What did he say?" I roared.

Carter put his hands up to calm me as my tone was pointed.

"He's only looking out for you," Carter said.

"Bullshit," I huffed, shaking my head.

"Honest. You know what Malcolm does, he's not the best guy. And this is coming from me, I used to be his best friend."

"Oh, there you are, darling," Malcolm suddenly appeared.

He exited the door and stepped onto the lawn where Carter and I were.

Removing his Cartier glasses, he pulled me in by the waist.

"Carter, nice seeing you, brother," Malcolm talked. He just sounded rich, like an ass talking at me people instead of to, or with, them.

Brother? Oh, that's how he's Chris's Godfather? Got it. Wait, I hate that.

"Hey, Malcolm," Carter spoke dry, pretending to drill some holes in a plank of wood.

"What, when Mary took you back she made you agree to be the groundskeeper?" Malcolm cracked what he thought was a joke.

Carter didn't laugh, neither did I.

"Some of us actually like to help the community, Malcolm," Carter fired back.

I looked between the men, sensing things were going to get tense.

Perhaps an age old beef? Could this be about Chris?

"Ha," Malcolm's laugh was short, but not sweet. "Let's go, darling," he bossed, putting his hand at the small of my back.

"Morgan," Carter called out, trying to be subtle.

When I turned to face him, though, Malcolm did, too.

Carter looked away like it pained him. "Nevermind. Tell Chris I asked for him."

"I don't think he wants to talk to you," Malcolm interjected.

I sighed, annoyed at him.

Malcolm pushing me towards the car, I looked back at Carter and said, "I will."

~~~

"Darling, what do you think of this one?" Asked Malcolm on the platform, being fitted.

I flipped through the catalog, bored.

"It's nice, Malcolm."

"I must say, Mr.Jameson, this is our finest suit," the employee remarked, trying to make a sale.

Malcolm put his hand up, excusing the French man from the room.

"Darling," he said again. God, I hate that word now.

I closed the pages and gave him my attention.

He fancied a spin and asked me my opinion again.

Forcing a smile, I said, "It's nice, you look nice."

"I don't want to look nice, I want to look wealthy."

When I cut my eyes, he asked what was wrong with them.

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"Your eyes, you keep rolling them. Are you okay?"

I peered back at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

"I'm fine, Malcolm."

"You have some attitude," he noted, tying the tie. "Here, help me."

I stood and tried my best to remember how to do this.

I once learned just because but that was years ago.

"God, you can't tie a simple tie?"

My face fell and Malcolm scowled.

After he successfully knotted the fabric around his neck himself, he turned to face me.

"I don't mean to be mean, but you should learn these things," he explained.

My question, "Why do I need to know to do that?"

"Because you're mine, and I like to wear suits," he had a laugh.

He turned again to look at himself in the glass.

I sat back down and crossed my ankles.

"Oh don't pout," he mused, lunging over to me. "What do you say we go to Victoria Secrets next?"

As if matching bra and panty sets were the answer right now. And what difference would it make, he won't be seeing me in them, anyway?

"Would you like that?" He asked, kissing the back of my hand.

After another hour of Malcolm's fitting, he did take me to Victoria Secrets and spent more than enough in there.

He hired a guard, named Teddy, who was always there whenever Chris couldn't be.

I wondered what Chris did whenever he wasn't in Malcolm's shadow. Did he have another job? Was he taking classes? Helping his mother at Red Sage?

Teddy didn't talk much but when he did he was daily sweet. At first, he said nothing, but one time I asked him to take a picture of me and he laughed. After that I introduced myself to which he said "I know who you are, you're my second priority after Malcolm."
Teddy's a big, bald, black guy with a great salt and pepper beard. He was built like a line backer and ate like the host of Man v. Food.
I liked his loyalty and the way he was gentle with me, but I didn't like that he worked for Malcolm who talked to him any kind of way.

The more time went on, the more I started to see what Chris and Carter meant. Malcolm isn't the best of guys, but he hasn't shown any signs of evil.
I knew it was just because he's rich that he expected people to drop what they're doing and worship him. He knew he could get whatever he wanted and if anyone said no, there'd be hell to pay.

Malcolm hadn't sent me any money since my last shopping spree before LeRoux.

Speaking of LeRoux, where'd we end up eating dinner? Oh, at LeRoux. Yes, it was good, but I didn't want to become a regular there when I hadn't experienced a lot of other restaurants yet in the city.

At the end of the day, we retired to Malcom's estate.

Teddy was sitting in the backseat of the Escalade while I was up front and had to endure classic country for the entirety of the hour long drive.

Before I could get out myself, Teddy opened my door.

"Thank you, Teddy," I smiled after a yawn.

I smoothed my white tennis skirt down and carried my body and to-go container into the house.

It was late, I just wanted to go to bed.

I trekked through the hall and made it to the kitchen where I made space for my food to go in the refrigerator.

My eyes opened from another yawn and that's when I saw Chris in the sunken living room (conversation pit.) He was watching some NBA game and I could hear mumbling, it wasn't intelligible.

So I looked around for Malcolm to see if he made it in yet, or not, chewing on my lower lip.

Just as I stepped away from the island, in walked Teddy before his boss.

"Darling," his use of that word was wearing on me. "I'm stepping out for work. Chris is here, you know, if you need anything. I'll be back in the morning."

"And then you'll meet Callie and Quinn?" I asked, hopeful.

"I never agreed to that," he quavered.

I was struck with disbelief. My jaw dropped.

"Yes you did. Last night, you said-"

"Alright, alright. Relax. I'll meet them. How does breakfast for dinner sound, say tomorrow evening?" he asked, checking his schedule.

"Thank you," I breathed out, folding my arms.

"Good night, get some rest," he wished, making his exit after squeezing my elbow.

Teddy gave me a look that said "good night," and then trailed Malcolm outside.

The door closed and I took my chances to approach Chris.

His back to me, I figured he was just into the game.

I lowered myself in the dark room and took a deep breath.

"Hey," I shrieked.

I cleared my throat to lower my voice.

"Um, I haven't seen you in a week, it's kind of... weird," I went on.

"Yeah," I heard Chris say.

I swallowed. "And, um, I just wanted to say hi."

"What?" He asked.

"Ugh. I don't even know why I'm trying."

"So?" He jawed.

I flailed my arms, feeling my tone switch.

"Hey, you pissed me off, not the other way around. And I know I shouldn't care, but you're, like, my only form of entertainment around here. I don't know, I just— I just want us to start over," I proposed.

"Alright, night, Mom," Chris talked.

It was then that he raised the phone from his lap and ended a call before pulling the AirPods from his ears.

Mental facepalm.

I couldn't even bring myself to move and act natural, just stayed behind Chris, sitting on my calves.

When the game went to halftime, Chris stood up from the cushion.

He looked surprised to see me but of course because I was sitting in his shadow all along and he couldn't hear a word I said apparently.

I would've just sat there sulking, kicking myself for the embarrassment, but Chris's hand appeared in my face.

I took it, being brought to my feet.

Right as I was about to thank Chris, he took another call.

"Yeah, I remembered: Kenzie," he talked, back to me.

This Kenzie girl got a fake laugh from him.

He walked away, heading upstairs. "Now's a good time, I'm not doing anything."

~~~

"—Malcolm, you're pretty funny," Callie giggled.

For the introductory dinner with Malcolm, she curled her thick hair and put on red lipstick. She wore a black dress with a split, and a pair of sandals. It was the first time in a while I'd seen her take pride in her physical appearance.

It was a little past six-thirty at the resort where Malcolm had a membership. He said this mountainous lodge had the best waffles and sausage since he suggested breakfast for dinner. Meanwhile I would've been satisfied with a Denny's but I was just happy to be exploring more places, especially one so serene. And for once, Malcolm followed through with a promise.

Teddy returned, after having excused himself, to the table and presented Chris.

Chris, dressed in a pair of black pants, a white t-shirt, pair of white and green low Nike Dunks, and a matching hat, took a seat directly across from me.

"Chris!" Quinn squeaked.

He smiled at her, and waved with the tattooed hand, decorated with rings and a bracelet.

Mmm. His scent hit me. I took a couple more sniffs trying to understand the notes. I think I smelled it on him before, it was sea spray, salted amber, and white peony. A natural musk somewhere between the beach and the woods, a fresh breeze while kind of pine-y.
God, the more I inhaled, the better it smelled. It was definitely signature, the type of fragrance you wouldn't put on if you were going to cheat on someone, you know?

I liked that he had a familiar scent, a masculine one that let me know he used it in his daily routine. Points for even being a man with a care routine.

Malcolm mixed colognes and none of them smelled the best. To him, as long as it was designer, it meant good, and he bathed in that shit. It was strong, kind of old-folks-home-smelling.

"Hi, Chris," Callie took her time on her words.

He greeted her and then Malcolm, but not me.

I want to say no shock there, but how could he not even acknowledge me?

Looking up from the menu, Chris stole a look at me. Nevermind, there's the acknowledgment.

Something weird happened to my face, the corners of my lips fought to curl up.

I had to cover my budding grin with a cocktail.

Malcolm, at the head of the table, opposite of Teddy, addressed the group.

"I want to thank Morgan for bringing us all together, this is about her, after all," he toasted.

"No, no," I blushed, pulling a string of hair from my glossed pout. "I just wanted you to meet the girls, is all."

"Hey, any reason to celebrate, right?" Malcolm made Callie laugh.

"Cheers," she vocalized, raising her third glass.

"Cheers," the rest of us followed.

The breeze blew the my body wave curls across my face.

I pushed the hair behind my shoulders and leaned into Malcolm to see what he was ordering. I trusted his taste, and I was really in the mood for French Toast.

Quinn sat on my right, coloring a page the waitress had given her with the three provided crayons. Meanwhile, Teddy devoured his appetizers, and Callie asked Chris about his night.

"I didn't really do anything," he answered, sitting back against the material of the chair.

That's a lie.

After Chris took that phone call last night, I went to my room to try and sleep. Only, I couldn't after two hours. So I got up, hoping he'd keep me company, but he wasn't there.

I called his name over and over. No answer. At first I thought he was playing around, straight up ignoring me, or just listening to his AirPods again.
Then, around midnight, I finally looked outside and saw his Dodge wasn't even in the driveway.
I take it he left to be with the Kenzie girl. Whoever she is.

Chris's foot, I assumed, happened to hit against mine.

When I subtly glanced under the table, I saw the tip of his sneaker against my nude square-toe mule.

Returning to the surface, Chris's eyes cut from me and he moved his foot.

"Try the baked oatmeal," Malcolm suggested, his hand squeezing mine on top of the table. Sounds nasty, no thank you.

While Malcolm looked over the revised menu, I stared at Chris.

He clenched his jaw and then moved towards Callie.

"What are you getting?" He asked her.

She looked shock a man even asked her what she wanted, smiling ear-to-ear like a jackass.

"I don't know, what do you recommend?" My sister wondered, twirling the ends of her hair.

Is she— is she flirting?

Chris looked at me out of the corner of his eye and then sat back to look at his own menu.

A lady sits with her legs crossed, I remembered. So I did just that. When I did, my foot gently rubbed against Chris's leg. He cleared his throat.

I watched him be unsure of how to react, not to make it obvious, but his thick eyebrows furrowed.

When he didn't move his leg, I felt my cheeks turn red, and I didn't move my feet either.

After everyone placed their orders, Malcolm looked to Callie.

"That's a beautiful baby girl you have, Caleen," Malcolm's compliment shocked the group.

I looked at him to see if he was okay, then I looked in his glass to see how much he had to drink.

"Oh you can just call me l Callie," she inclined.

"I think I'll call you Caleen," he insisted with a strong grin.

Her face dropped for a split second and then she raised her glass and smiled. "As long as you call me," she joked.

Malcolm allowed himself to laugh. "I see where you get it from," he said to.

At the same time I said "no," Callie exclaimed, "Thanks, she does!"

I bowed my head and stared down at the menu.

"—And keep them coming," Callie shouted at the waitress.

Malcolm raised an eyebrow at me and then looked at my sister.

"You sure know how to put it away, Caleen," he said in all seriousness, but tried to smile.

She finished one margarita and then giggled. "I do, I really do."

"Yeah, maybe you should stop," I spoke up.

Everyone looked at me like I spoke out of turn.

"'Cause you have to drive Quinn home," I added, sinking in my seat.

Callie looked at Quinn, Malcolm, Chris, and then finally me.

When the waitress appeared a second later with her drinks, Callie slowly took it and stared right into my eyes as she took another gulp.

"I like her," Malcolm attracted, smugly sitting back with his ankle over his knee.

~~~

Callie danced with Quinn and Teddy under the pixie lights that evening after dinner.

Everyone was having a good time except for myself.

I think I just ate some bad sausage, or had one too many cocktails.

After failing to locate Chris anywhere under the stars, I gave up and took myself to the bathroom.

When I exited, I was grabbed. It was only Malcolm, though I'm not sure that's a total relief.

I gasped but he quickly settled my nerves, bringing me onto the dance floor.

"Malcolm," I laughed at his sudden moves.

"I cannot dance, but I know you've been dying to," he charmed.

The music wasn't loud enough, nor was it of this decade, but I appreciated his stiff efforts. And I do mean stiff, he was right, he can't dance.

His hand traveled lower down my back the more we talked, and not once did he remove his eyes from mine. It actually made me nervous, I didn't like eye contact nor was I attracted enough to him to maintain it.

"Did I do good today?" He asked.

I smiled. "Sure, Malcolm, you did good today. Thanks for meeting Callie and Quinn, they mean a lot to me. And I never said this, but I should've, I'm sorry I brought them along without telling you first-"

"Shh, shh, shh," he sounded, spinning me. "One day, your family will be mine, so, I had to get to know them anyway."

My eyes shot out, big. I couldn't believe he just said that, what did he mean? Surely not marriage, I hope.

I struggled to say anything in response, just continued to lead.

My eyes darted around until they landed on Chris emerging from the men's room.

He immediately caught my gaze and prolonged his stare as he walked around mine and Malcom's bodies.

I dropped my eyes to the floor and let out a sigh.

"You okay, darling?" Asked Malcolm, tilting his head so he could read my face.

I lifted my chin so he wouldn't do it for me.

"No, I'm fine. Just thinking," I whispered.

Malcolm's hand lowered over the top of my ass and I shuddered again. I didn't know why I reacted to his touch like that, but I did.

"I was thinking," he said, lowering me into a dip that caught me entirely off guard.

As I was bent over, I saw Chris watching me but only briefly before he let a drunk Callie twirl into his chest.

Malcolm brought me back up, his nose nestled in the crease of my neck.

"I was thinking," he repeated, "how about you moving into my room now?"

"Well, I'm comfortable in the guest room," I tried to say.

Malcolm locked our fingers. "But I want to take things to the next level."