PHAELENX: Fantasy Romance (Zhekan Mates Book 3) by E.A. James (24)

THE PRIMAL BILLIONAIRE

  

CHAPTER ONE

 

Margaret could sense someone standing over her. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know who it was—Liz. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, hoping that her roommate would eventually go away. It didn’t work. Liz began to noisily move around the room, clanging glasses together, and shuffling through papers. She must have lost patience with Margaret, because the next thing she knew, Liz was tossing bits of old popcorn in her direction. 

 

“I’m up,” Margaret said, covering her face with her hands to prevent any more kernels from hitting her. 

 

“About time,” Liz said annoyed. She gathered up a handful of dishes and walked out of the room. 

 

As Margaret sat up, she wiped the sleep from her eyes, and let her legs hang over the edge of the small, beat-up couch. She couldn’t believe that this was where she had ended up. When she moved to New York six months ago she had big dreams and high hopes. She was going to be a famous actress; she was going to make a name for herself. 

 

The city proved to be a lot more unfriendly than she had expected. Coming from a small town in upstate New York, Maggie was unfamiliar with the heartless, cold, no-nonsense world that was the Big Apple. In the last months, she hadn’t gotten one single acting job—not even a commercial spot or uncredited appearance on a TV show. She had been to more auditions than she could count, and nothing. She had already blown through her savings, which was what led her to this—sleeping on the old couch in the small, cramped family room of a dumpy two bedroom apartment in Queens. Initially she had her own room. It was a small room but it had a door and privacy, and provided her with some sort of dignity. But when she could no longer afford to pay the rent, her roommate found someone else who could. 

 

It was true that Liz’s willingness to let Maggie crash on the couch until she could get on her feet could be perceived as kind. But that’s not what it felt like. Margaret was more convinced that the only reason Liz hadn’t kicked her out completely was because she enjoyed having her around—it made her feel better about herself. She was constantly putting her down, reminding her on an almost daily basis that she was on the brink of complete failure. 

 

Liz had been living in the city for several years, and she was not afraid to tell Margaret that she didn’t think she “had what it took” to survive. “You’re too weak,” she said one day while they were watching TV. “This city is going to chew you up and spit you out. You’re better just going back to wherever it is you came from. Save yourself the embarrassment and pain.” 

 

Her roommate’s observations did little to help Maggie’s self-confidence, which was always low. Her family and friends from home had always said that she would need to be more certain of herself if she was going to make it in the overly competitive world of acting. Until recently it had never been an issue. Taking on roles in school plays and small, local productions was never a problem for her. She enjoyed the experience of being someone else—it was an escape from who she was. 

 

But now she could see that being able to portray someone self-assured and confident wasn’t enough. When going to auditions and casting calls, she needed to show the directors that she was someone who was comfortable in her own skin—someone who had spunk and tenacity.

 

And that was not Margaret. She couldn’t be confident with who she was when she found herself so boring and plain. While she didn’t think she was unattractive, she didn’t think she was attractive either. She was just average. Her hair was medium length and a very dull color of brown. Her eyes matched her hair—dull brown. She was curvy, something that she never seemed to care about or notice before. But now, going to compete with other girls, all skinny and slender, she suddenly felt out of place. 

 

Maggie got to her feet to begin folding up the sheet she used the night before, when she saw the newspaper on the coffee table. This was Liz’s newest way of dropping hints that she wanted her out. Every morning for the last week she had left the paper out and opened to the classifieds. 

 

After putting the sheet away, Margaret returned to the couch and began scanning the columns for potential jobs. Most required some level of experience, all in areas that she had none. There was nothing—literally nothing—that fit into Margaret’s limited frame of abilities. 

 

Moving past the jobs section, she decided to look at other sections of the classifieds. “There has to be something I can do,” she said under her breath as she continued to scan the black print. When she came across the “Situations Wanted” section she paused momentarily. The only things she saw were for escorts. “Right,” she scoffed, “’escorts’.” She knew what that meant—prostitutes. Her mother had worried that her moving to the big city would end in her selling her body for money. “I’ll move home before I do that,” she said to herself determinedly. 

 

As she continued reading one ad caught her eye: “CARETAKER. No experience necessary. Must live in.” She sat back and stared at the wall in front of her. No experience necessary; must live in. It seemed perfect. If anything it was a way to get out of her current living situation. 

 

“This might just work,” she said to herself, looking back down at the paper in her hand. 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

“Are you going to call?” Liz questioned her eagerly when she told her about the ad she had seen. 

 

“I don’t know,” she said hesitantly. “They want a caretaker.”

 

“So?” Liz asked, grabbing the paper off the coffee table and looking down at the listing Maggie had circled. 

 

“Caretaker for who? Or what?” 

 

“Kids, probably,” Liz shrugged. 

 

“I haven’t taken care of kids since high school!” Maggie exclaimed. “Not since the kids I babysat got too old for needing someone to look after them.” 

 

“It says ‘no experience necessary’,” Liz pointed out. “So it can’t be that hard. I’m sure even you could do it.” 

 

Of course she had to say it that way. Of course she had to find some way to put her down while trying to encourage her at the same time. “Thanks,” Maggie said rolling her eyes as she reached for the phone. 

 

Her hands shaking, she dialed the number. She didn’t push call, though. She just sat staring at the screen. “What are you waiting for?” Liz asked, grabbing the phone from her hand and pushing the green “call” button. Maggie heard it begin to ring when Liz handed it back to her. “Good luck!” she smiled at her innocently. 

 

Flustered, she quickly lifted the phone to her ear just as a gruff man’s voice came over the line. “Hello?” the voice asked. 

 

“Yes,” she started, her voice shaking. “Hello. I’m calling about the… Well, I saw an ad in the paper for a…” 

 

“Caretaker,” the man replied. He sounded annoyed. 

 

“Yes,” she said quickly. “I was hoping to set up an interview.” 

 

“What time are you free?” the voice demanded more than asked. 

 

“When? Today?” she was taken aback.

 

“Yes.” The voice still had the annoyed tone to it. 

 

She looked quickly at the clock on the cable box—9:36. “I can be available any time after 11:00,” she said. She immediately regretted that, though. Maybe she should have made it seem like she had an actual life—like she had other responsibilities?

 

“That will be fine,” the voice replied. Quickly, he gave her the address and hung up without waiting for her to verify that she had the right place, or even ask for the name of who she would be meeting with. 

 

“Get an interview?” Liz asked her as she lowered the phone. 

 

“Yea,” she answered, quickly looking around the room for a piece of paper and a pen. “I need to write down the address,” she said getting to her feet. 

 

“When is it for?” Liz asked, handing her a slip of paper from the table. 

 

Maggie grabbed a pen and scribbled down what she hoped to be the correct address. “Today,” she said not looking over at her roommate. “At 11:00—I think.” 

 

When she walked up to the large, glass-covered building, she was sure that she had written down the wrong address. This was a very expensive area, and the apartment complex in front of her was easily the nicest on the entire street. It was the nicest she had ever seen! 

 

She peered down at the little slip of paper again, checking the number. Letting out a nervous sigh, she forced herself forward. When she reached the glass door, she stared at the rows of illuminated buttons. It appeared that there were 15 floors, with 10 apartments on each—except for the last. She looked down at her paper again. “Apartment 1500,” she said looking back up at the glowing numbers. 

 

Her hand shaking, she pressed the button quickly, not even sure she had held it down long enough for it to actually ring. It must have, though, because just a few second later the front door let out a loud buzz, letting her know it was opened. As she pulled the door open slowly she felt her heart begin to beat harder in her chest. 

 

When she got in the elevator, she tried to push the button for the 15th floor, but nothing happened. Leaning in closer she noticed that there was a keyhole next to the number. She tried to push the button again, but nothing happened. Just as she was about to give up and leave, the doors slid closed in front of her, and the small metal box began to move upwards. 

 

When the doors slid opened again, her jaw dropped. The elevator opened up directly into the middle of a penthouse—a very elegant and sleek looking penthouse. The wall directly in front of her was made entirely of windows, providing an awe-inspiring view of the city. All of the furniture was high-end leather. She guessed from the smell that it was real leather as well. The walls were all a crisp white color, and the curtains black, giving a very sharp look to the room. She walked into the room slowly. There was no one around. She heard the doors of the elevator close behind her. She spun around quickly, trying to stop them. She was sure she had messed up somewhere along the way. This couldn’t be the place! 

 

“Hello,” a voice said from behind her. When she turned she saw an older man, probably in his late 50s or early 60s, wearing a black suit and white shirt standing in the far left corner of the room. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she stuttered. “I think I made a mistake.” 

 

“You’re here for the interview?” the man asked slowly. 

 

“Yes,” she squeaked. 

 

“This way,” he said motioning for her to follow him as he disappeared around the corner. 

 

She quickened her step to catch up with him. He led her down a long hallway with gray and white marble tile floors, and imposing black doors running along the walls. He stopped at the third door on the left, turning to face her before pushing it open. “Mr. McGuire will see you in here,” he said as walked in. She followed him slowly. “He will be in momentarily.” 

 

He waited for her to take a seat on the couch before turning to leave. The room he had taken her to was a study of some sort. Three of the walls were lined with bookcases, all filled. There was an over-sized oak desk in front of the fourth wall which was made up of windows, like the one in the room the elevator left her in. Despite the light pouring in, the room still had a dark feel to it. 

 

When the door opened to her left, she stood to her feet quickly, trying to straighten out her shirt and make herself look presentable. The man who walked in the room was tall, with very broad shoulders and a head full of luscious black hair. His eyes were deep blue, and his jaw line rigid. He had a stern look about him, but despite that he was very handsome. 

 

Margaret suddenly became very self-conscious. Her short brown hair hung messily around her face, and she had smeared her make-up on quickly, afraid she would be late for the interview. She was under-dressed, apparently, in her jeans and purple ruffled top. 

 

“Sit,” the man ordered her firmly. She did as she was told, looking down to the ground to keep from staring too intently at him. “My name is Joshua McGuire. And you are?” 

 

“Maggie… I mean, Margaret—Margaret Johnson,” she replied quickly.

 

“Which is it? Maggie or Margaret?” 

 

“My friends call me Maggie…” she said meekly. 

 

“Are we friends?” he shot back at her. She could feel her face begin to turn red, and her hands shook in her lap. 

 

“No, sir. I wouldn’t say that we were.” 

 

“So Margaret it is,” he said taking a seat at the desk. “Come sit here,” he said motioning to the chair across from him. As she stood to move she could feel his eyes burning into her. “Where are you from, Margaret?” 

 

“Upstate,” she answered quietly as she took her seat. 

 

“I see,” he leaned back in his chair. “What do your parents do for a living?” 

 

“I’m sorry?” She looked up at him, taken aback by the question. 

 

“What do they do? What job do they have?” he repeated himself slowly as if he were talking to a child. 

 

“My mom is a teacher and my dad is an accountant,” she said, not sure what that mattered. 

 

“Did you have a good childhood?”

 

“I guess,” she shrugged. She didn’t understand why he was asking her these questions, but she was too intimidated not to answer.

 

“Do you have siblings?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“How many?” 

 

“Two.” 

 

“Do they live close by?” he asked her leaning forward. 

 

“No. One still lives at home, the other is in Virginia,” she explained. 

 

“Good.” He leaned back in his chair. “What size do you wear?” 

 

“Excuse me?” she looked at him, her eyes large. 

 

“What size clothes do you wear, Margaret?”

 

“That’s really none of your business,” she said defensively. 

 

“Well, I’m making it my business.” 

 

“Mr. McGuire, you’re making me uncomfortable,” she said, biting her bottom lip. 

 

“Interesting,” he said standing to his feet and walking around the desk. Once he was directly in front of her he sat on the edge and leaned down to look at her. “You see, Margaret,” he began. “I’m very selective of the people I choose to have around me. If you want to be one of those people, you’re going to have to get used to being uncomfortable.” 

 

His statement surprised her. She wasn’t sure what exactly he meant. She wanted to ask, but she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know the answer. She looked around the room, not letting his persistent stare overwhelm her completely, like it threatened to. “May I ask, Mr. McGuire, who will I be caring for? Provided I get the job?” 

 

“I thought that was obvious,” he said standing up quickly. “Me.” 

 

“You?” she asked. What did he mean? How was she supposed to take care of him? She had the sinking feeling that it meant a lot more than she was willing to do. Did he expect to hire someone to take care of him sexually?

 

“I’ll be in touch,” he said walking across the room and opening the door. “Thank you, Margaret.” 

 

As she exited the building, her thoughts were filled with one question after the next. While Joshua McGuire was an attractive, obviously wealthy man, if she was right about her assumption of what he wanted from her, she was sure she didn’t want to be a part of it. 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

“Are you nervous?” Carrie asked Maggie backstage. 

 

“Of course! Are you?” Maggie asked her in return. 

 

“A little,” Carrie shrugged.  She was the only close friend that Maggie had in the city, or at least, the only semblance of a close friend she had. They met at a casting call a few months back, and kept in touch, meeting up from time to time. 

 

Carrie was similar to Liz, however. She had been living in New York City for a while now, and she always seemed to carry herself with a sense of superiority when she was around Margaret. She was as skinny as the hundreds of other girls who Margaret had to compete with for parts. On top of that, she kept her hair dyed blond—a very fake bleached blond—and had big, blue eyes, and a small, adorable little button nose. Her favorite topic of conversation was Maggie’s diet. She thought that through subtly giving her eating tips, she was somehow addressing the question of weight politely. This morning was no different. 

 

“I mean, I was nervous enough that I could barely finish my breakfast this morning,” she added, eying Margaret carefully. “What about you?” 

 

Margaret shrugged, “I guess.” She didn’t want to have this conversation again, especially right before an audition. 

 

“You should really try eating some fresh fruit for breakfast, Maggie. It really gives you an energy boost!” 

 

“Thanks,” Margaret smiled at her meekly, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

 

“I mean, I’m sure they don’t really teach you all those things back home. But here in the city, we’re very health conscious.” Margaret decided not to answer. There was no stopping Carrie when she got on her rants, so it was just better to shut up and wait for it to be over. “Really, Maggie. You should maybe take a class or something on nutrition. If you want to get the good roles, you’re going to want to…” 

 

Maggie was interested to see what she would say. She always found interesting ways to phrase “lose weight”.

 

“You’re going to want to tighten it up a little,” Carrie finished. “And you need to let me take you out shopping.” As she spoke, Margaret wondered why it’s so hard to find real friends in the city. Her friends back home were never so superficial. They never criticized her. She didn’t have a problem with the way she looked, and they didn’t either. Why can’t people here seem to get that? 

 

“Your outfits!” Carrie continued. “I’ve always told you; they make you look like you’re going to the local flea market—not like you’re hoping to be the next big thing on Broadway. I mean, you can always be a supporting…” 

 

Thankfully, her speech was cut short. A man, probably in his mid-twenties, came up and tapped her on the shoulder, causing her to pause in the middle of what she was saying. “Carrie,” he said in a friendly tone. 

 

She turned and let out a quiet squeal of excitement. “Mike!” she exclaimed as she threw her arms around his neck. “How are you?” 

 

“I’m good,” he said smiling down at her. He was attractive enough—tall, dark blond hair, green eyes. “Are you trying for the female lead?” he asked his friend. 

 

“Yes. Oh my God! Are you going for the male lead? Ah!” she screamed a little louder than before. “What if we both got the leads? Wouldn’t that be great? We could work together!” 

 

“That would be great,” he said, taking his eyes from Carrie and turning his attention to Margaret. “And who are you?” he asked extending his hand. 

 

“Maggie,” she blushed slightly. 

 

“Nice to meet you, Maggie. I’m Michael. Are you trying out for the lead as well?” He looked her over as he spoke, but not in the judgmental way that everyone else at the casting calls always did.

 

“Yes,” she answered softly. 

 

“Well, playing the lead opposite you wouldn’t be half bad either.” He winked at her, causing her cheeks to turn a bright color of red. 

 

She wanted to continue talking to him, but suddenly she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. “Excuse me,” she said apologetically as she pulled it out and turned away from Carrie and Mike. “Hello?” she said as she held the phone up to her face. 

 

“Ms. Johnson?” She recognized the voice immediately. It was Mr. McGuire’s butler. Why was he calling? It had been two days since her interview, and she was sure that she didn’t get the job. 

 

“Yes?” she asked, nervous. 

 

“I’m pleased to tell you that you’ve been selected for the caretaker position.” His voice didn’t sound pleased; it had the same dry, almost monotonous tone it did the last few times she spoke to him. 

 

“Oh,” she said, flustered. “I didn’t expect to…” 

 

“You start immediately.” 

 

“Immediately?” 

 

“Yes. Mr. McGuire says that you’re to come as soon as possible.” 

 

“I can be there in a few hours…”

 

“Sooner,” the man said firmly before hanging up the phone. 

 

“Wait. I can’t…” she tried to object, but it was too late. 

 

She walked back over to where she left Carrie and Mike. “Who was it?” Carrie asked, being nosy as always. 

 

“It was this job I applied for. I got the position,” Margaret said, staring down at the phone in her hand.  

 

“That’s good, right?” Carrie asked, trying to read the expression on her face. 

 

“I have to start now—like right now.” 

 

“Margaret Johnson!” a voice called out from the side of the stage. “The next reading will be from Margaret Johnson!” 

 

“That’s you!” Carrie said, pushing her in the direction of the woman with the clipboard. 

 

“No!” Margaret said quickly. “I can’t! Not now! I’m…” It didn’t matter, though. Carrie kept shoving her, and somehow she found herself standing next to the woman. 

 

“Ready?” the woman asked smiling at her. 

 

“No,” she said, her voice shaking. 

 

The woman just laughed and gestured for her to make her way onto the stage and into the spotlight. “They’re waiting.” 

 

The reading was the worst Margaret had ever done in her entire life. Throughout the entire process, her voice shook as much as her hands. She wasn’t worried about the part, though. All she could think about was going back to the penthouse and facing Joshua McGuire again. He was beyond intimidating. Not only was he straightforward and blunt, but he was attractive and confident. He made her feel both excited and completely frightened at the same time. 

 

“Next!” the voice of the director called out from one of the seats in the second row of the large auditorium. 

 

Margaret didn’t even get through four lines. She had completely tanked the audition and all because she couldn’t get her mind off of Mr. Joshua McGuire for even five minutes. She sighed deeply as she quickly gathered her things to rush off to the penthouse.

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

When she got to the penthouse, she had already set her mind on trying to make the most out of the new experience. It couldn’t be worse than her currently situation, anyways. Liz was a little too eager to get her out of the apartment. Margaret had called her when she left the audition, telling her about her new job and living arrangement. When she got back to the small apartment to collect her things, she found that Liz had already taken the liberty to pack her suitcase for her. She had set it outside the door, with a note reading: “Good luck!”

 

“Ms. Johnson,” the butler greeted her as soon as the elevator doors slid open. “I’ll take that,” he said reaching out his hand for her bag. 

 

“Oh, thank you,” she said handing over the suitcase containing the only things she possessed in the whole world. 

 

“Thank you, Henry,” she heard Joshua’s calm voice say. She hadn’t noticed him sitting on the large leather couch before. He was dressed in a pair of black slacks and what she could only assume to be an expensive dress shirt. He stood to greet her as she walked towards him. “Take her things to her room,” he continued speaking to the butler. “I’ll show her there momentarily.” 

 

As the small, white-haired man hurried away down the long hall on the far end of the room, Joshua motioned for Margaret to take a seat next to him on the couch. She moved across the room slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her. Whenever she looked at him, she felt her stomach begin to turn nervously, so the best option was to avoid it as much as possible. 

 

“Margaret,” he began once she was seated. “I’m glad you could come.” 

 

“Thank you, sir,” she said weakly. 

 

“Please, call me Joshua.” His tone didn’t have the same authoritative, almost demeaning ring to it that it had had during the interview. 

 

“Joshua,” she corrected herself.

 

“I can see that you’re very nervous, Margaret.” 

 

“I am, sir… I mean, Joshua.” 

 

“I don’t want you to be nervous around me,” he said kindly. 

 

“I thought,” she finally looked up at him. His eyes seemed to be an even darker shade of blue than she remembered. Maybe it was the shirt he was wearing—but they were intense and deep, and fixed on her. “I thought you wanted me to be uncomfortable,” she said, recalling his comment from the interview. “That being uncomfortable was part of the job.”

 

“Being uncomfortable and nervous are two different things,” he said.

 

“I don’t understand what you mean.” 

 

He sighed softly. “You see,” he started to explain, “being nervous means that you’re afraid; that something around you is making you feel vulnerable.” 

 

“And being uncomfortable?” she asked for clarification. 

 

“Being uncomfortable means that something around you is out of the norm, but not necessarily that that something scares you.” As he spoke he took his eyes from hers and looked around the room, almost as if her gaze was making him as flustered as his was making her. “You see, Margaret, when something makes you uncomfortable it just means that you need to somehow become familiar with it—accept it, or reject it, and move on.” 

 

“So, why is it that if I’m going to be working for you, I need to be okay with being uncomfortable?” 

 

He looked over at her, his eyes seemed to be filled with a sense of sadness and hurt. “All of that in due time, Margaret,” he said standing to his feet. “Let me show you to your room.” 

 

He began making his way for the hallway, pausing to turn back to her, making sure she was following. She got to her feet quickly and rushed over to where he was waiting for her. He led her down the same hall Henry had taken her down just three days before. They passed three doors on the right before he stopped. “This will be your room. I hope it’s to your liking,” he said as he pushed the door open. 

 

When she walked in, she was left completely speechless. The room was easily four times as large as the room she once had at Liz’s apartment. The bed in the center of the room was king-size and hidden behind drapes of sheer, pink fabric that hung down from the four posts that rose up from each corner.  There was a large area rug that covered the cold marble floor, and two enormous dressers pushed up against the wall in front of the bed. Between them was a three-sided mirror, with a string of lights hanging down over it. The most impressive aspect of the room, however, was the far wall. It was made up of giant windows, which reached from the floor all the way up to the ceiling, providing a view of the city, and letting light come pouring into the room. 

 

“This is too much,” she said breathlessly as she walked further into the room. She turned around to look at Joshua again, who was leaning against the door frame, smiling at her amazement. 

 

“It’s all for you,” he explained as he pushed himself up and walked towards her. “I hope you can make yourself comfortable here.” 

 

“Are you kidding?” she asked laughing. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave!” 

 

“Good,” he nodded happily. 

 

“Where is my suitcase?” she asked scanning the room and not finding it. 

 

“In the closet,” he said motioning to a door in the corner of the room. 

 

She smiled at him excitedly as she walked over to the door and pulled it open. The closet was more like another room. There was a plush bench in the center of it. Sitting on top of it was her old, beat up suitcase that looked very out of place compared to the elegant, fine-finished room. The walls were filled with hanging rods and shelves, drawers and hooks. The most amazing part was that they were all filled with different articles of clothing and accessories—everything from dresses to shirts, jewelry to shoes; it was all already there waiting for her. 

 

“Since you wouldn’t tell me your size I had to guess,” he explained walking into the room after her. 

 

“Oh,” she said, realizing that his question might not have been as offensive as she took it to me. 

 

“You can try on everything later,” he said reaching out his hand for her to take. 

 

She placed her hand in his nervously. When he wrapped his strong fingers around hers, her heart began to race. He led her back into the bedroom and towards the bed. He reached up with his free hand and pulled back one of the drapes surrounding it. Lying across the bed was a beautiful red dress. It looked simple but elegant. “I would like you to wear this to dinner tonight,” he said dropping her hand and lifting the dress up. 

 

“Tonight?” she asked taking the dress from his hands and holding it up against her. She walked to the mirrors and observed her reflection. 

 

“Yes. You’ll need to be in the dining room in an hour,” he said as he followed her, also looking at her in the mirror. 

 

“An hour?” she turned to him, her eyes wide. “I don’t know if I can be ready…” 

 

“You need to be, Margaret.” 

 

“But…” 

 

“I need to know that you’ll be available to me whenever I ask you to be,” he explained calmly. 

 

“Mr. McGuire,” she began nervously, “what are my hours exactly?” 

 

“It’s a live-in position. I thought that was clear.” 

 

“Yes, but, I do have some off time, right? I have time to do my own things?” She felt a sinking sensation in her chest. What had she gotten herself in to? 

 

“I need you to be here whenever I need you. I need you to be ready and available at a moment’s notice,” he replied.

 

When he left her to get ready for dinner, the excitement that had filled her upon seeing the room had all but gone. Would she have time to pursue her dream? Would she be able to go to auditions and try-outs? What could he possibly need her for 24/7? 

 

As she held up the dress and looked at herself in the mirror again, she thought of the alternative—sleeping on Liz’s couch, or going back to live with her parents. “Well,” she said to herself, “if this gets too out of hand, I’ll just leave. He can’t force me to stay here forever. It’s worth a shot, I guess.” 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

When Henry showed her into the dining room, later on, she was once again overwhelmed by what she saw. Everything was pristine and elegant. The huge, dark wooden table consumed most of the room, and could have easily sat 30 people. But sitting there, alone, was Joshua. He was at the head of the table, and he stood to welcome her, pulling out the chair to his right for her to sit in. He had also changed into a suit, and he looked even more handsome and sophisticated than usual. 

 

“Thank you,” she said as she took her seat. 

 

“You look lovely,” he said to her as he sat next to her. 

 

“You look very nice as well.” She tried to keep her face from turning red and her voice from shaking. 

 

“I hope you like steak,” he said as he looked over his shoulder. 

 

“Who doesn’t?” she replied with a giggle.

 

“Great.” He clapped his hands twice. She looked behind him and saw Henry appear through a swinging door, two plates in his hands. 

 

Throughout the meal, she couldn’t help but feel more and more intrigued by the man sitting next to her. He was suave and refined. He said all the right things at all the right times. He was no longer the forward, borderline offensive man she met at the interview. He was gentlemanly in every respect of the word.

 

She couldn’t understand why there wasn’t a woman in his life besides her? Not just one woman, she couldn’t understand why there wasn’t a line of women waiting to be with him! Why would he be spending his night with her, of all people? 

 

“So, tell me, Margaret,” he said after taking a long sip of wine. “What did you do before coming to work for me?”

 

“I was trying to be an actress,” she said almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t doing very well at it, though.” 

 

“You’re not from the city originally,” he observed.

 

“Is it really that obvious?” she asked wrinkling up her nose. 

 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Joshua replied. 

 

“Everyone around me seems to think it is.” She shrugged. “They all think I’m too ‘small town’ to make it in the big city.” 

 

“Now see, when I look at you I don’t see that.” 

 

“Really?” she asked, looking at him over the rim of her wine glass. She took a long sip before setting it down. “What do you see?” 

 

“I see someone who is genuine—real.” As he spoke, he looked her deep in the eyes, causing goose bumps to run up her arms. “I see someone that hasn’t been hardened by life and turned bitter; someone who doesn’t need the approval of all those other people, because she’s doing what she wants, and nothing is going to stop her.” 

 

She let out a nervous giggle, not because of what he was saying, but because of how what he said made her feel. “Well, apparently looking genuine and resilient isn’t enough to get a paid acting job.” 

 

“At least you have this job,” he said smiling. 

 

She took another sip of her wine, trying not to get swept away in his words and his eyes. She couldn’t help but feel herself become more and more attracted to him. As she set her glass down, she had to stop herself from reaching out to brush the back of her hand against his. She remembered the feeling of his hand wrapped around hers, and found herself longing for that feeling again. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. 

 

She tried to shake the thoughts from her head, focusing on the food, wine, and conversation. “What about you?” she asked him shyly. “What do you do?” 

 

“I’m a man of business,” he said matter-of-factly. 

 

“What kind of business?” she asked. 

 

“Nothing that would interest you,” he replied. “Hell, it barely interests me!” He laughed a little, and Margaret joined in, perhaps laughing a little too hard—like a schoolgirl trying pathetically to flirt with her crush.

 

She felt her face blush red. He laughed again, this time at her discomfort. “I like your laugh,” he said reaching out and placing his hand on hers. 

 

The contact sent a rush flooding over her. She wanted that instant to last forever. When he pulled his hand back quickly, she felt a desire to reach out and pull his hand back, holding it tightly in hers, not wanting to let the connection fade. 

 

Her own reaction made her become more flustered. She tried to reach for her glass, but her hand was shaking slightly, and she ended up knocking it over. “I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, standing up quickly and grabbing a napkin to begin mopping up the mess. 

 

“Don’t worry about that, Margaret,” Joshua said, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

 

“No, I’m so clumsy!” she scolded herself. “I can’t believe… God! How embarrassing!” She continued to try to mop up the red liquid that was spreading slowly across the table. 

 

“Henry!” Joshua called out. “Really, Margaret. Leave it.” Even though his statement came in the form of a command, it was stated in a caring, almost concerned way. 

 

“I should go to bed,” she said, dropping the cloth napkin into the puddle of wine. “I’m just tired, that’s all. I really should get some sleep.” 

 

As she collected herself to leave, Henry appeared at the swinging door behind Joshua. “Yes, sir?” he asked.

 

“Will you clean this up?” Joshua said motioning to the spilled wine and empty plates. 

 

“Of course, sir,” he replied. He began collecting the plates and cups and disappeared back through the door he had come from. 

 

“Good night, Mr. McGuire,” Margaret said as she turned to head back to her room. 

 

“Margaret,” Joshua said standing quickly to his feet. “I need something from you first.” 

 

She turned to look back at him. “What is it?” she asked nervously. 

 

“It’s the most important part of your job.” 

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

As she followed him down the long hallway, Margaret became more and more worried. What was he going to ask of her? Was he going to ask for sex? Are her fears coming true? Maybe she shouldn’t have taken the job? Maybe she should have just sucked it up and slept on Liz’s couch a little longer until she found something a little more socially acceptable? 

 

  She could barely hear their steps echoing down the long passageway over the pounding of her heart in her ears. She was about to tell him she was uncomfortable again, but she knew that would only lead him to say something she didn’t completely understand. 

 

When he stopped abruptly in front of the last door on the right, she was sure that even he could hear her heart beating quickly and loudly in her chest. The door was different than all of the others. It wasn’t wooden but metal. Margaret broke out into a cold sweat, and her legs began to tremble. 

 

He didn’t seem to notice her nervousness, however. He didn’t turn to look at her as he punched in a set of numbers into an electronic keypad. “23-56-92-03,” he said to her over his shoulder. “Can you remember that?” 

 

“Umm…” she started, her voice cracking. “23-56-93…” 

 

“No!” he yelled as he turned to face her. His face wasn’t angry, but she could tell that he was very serious about her remembering the combination.

 

“23-56-92-03,” he said again loudly. She repeated the numbers correctly. He made her do it again, and then again. “It’s very important that you remember the combination, Margaret.” 

 

“Okay,” she replied, her voice airy and weak. 

 

As he pushed the door open slowly, he kept his gaze locked on her. She peered into the room, nervously. What she saw was exactly what she was afraid of. There were chains coming down from the ceiling and up from the floor. This is what he needed from her. He needed her to fulfill his twisted fantasies. He was going to chain her up! She wanted to run. She wanted to get as far from that room as possible. But something inside her kept her feet rooted to the ground. Was it fear? Curiosity? Shock? It didn’t matter the reason; she couldn’t pull herself away. 

 

He walked into the room in front of her and blocked her view of the room. He turned to look down at her, his face appearing almost remorseful. He studied her expression for a moment. Something about the way he moved, the way he breathed, the way he looked at her, made her feel an overwhelming sense of compassion for him. She could see something behind his eyes—something sad. “I’ll need you to come here every night at 11:00pm,” he said slowly.

 

“Every night?” she tried to ask, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out. 

 

He smiled at her weakly as he slid off his suit jacket and tossed it into the corner of the room. He turned away from her and walked to where the chains were piled on the floor. She took a quick step back, trying to will herself to run. “I need you to restrain me,” he said leaning over and picking up the chains. 

 

“What?” she asked. 

 

“Here,” he said turning to hand her one of the chains in his hand. It was one that was connected to the ceiling. “This goes on my wrist,” he explained as he held it out to her. 

 

“I’m…” she started. 

 

“Uncomfortable?” he asked her. He let out a weak laugh and set his eyes on hers.  

 

“Yea,” she smiled as she walked towards him. When she took the chain from him, her fingers brushed lightly against his. The sensation filled her with an odd, unexpected feeling of comfort. She tightened the leather strap around his wrist. 

 

“Tighter,” he said when she stepped back. 

 

A little thrown off she stepped forward quickly and began fumbling nervously at the restraint. As she worked her hands began to shake. “Margaret,” he said, leaning down and speaking to her softly. “Don’t be nervous. Don’t be scared.” She looked up slowly. She hadn’t realized how close he was to her. He reached his free hand out and brushed back a strand of hair from her face. “Please don’t be scared.” 

 

Again, she couldn’t speak, but now it wasn’t the confusion or worry that kept her voice trapped in her throat—it was him. His touch was soft and his eyes were piercing. She just nodded and turned to get back to working on the strap. 

 

When she had gotten that one done tight enough, she began working on his other wrist, then his right ankle, and finally his left. She stepped back, not sure what to do now. “Thank you, Margaret,” he said no longer looking her in the eye. His gaze was fixed on the ground in front of him. The confident air he always seemed to carry himself with was completely gone. He looked almost ashamed. “Do you remember the code?”

 

“Yes,” she replied quietly. 

 

“Say it.” 

 

“23-56-92-03,” she said without hesitation. 

 

“Good.” He nodded his head but kept his eyes fixed on the ground. “Do not come back until 7:00am,” he said firmly. 

 

“You’re going to be in here all night?” she asked concerned. “Will you be okay?” 

 

“I’ll be fine,” he shifted his weight around nervously. “Don’t come back until the morning. Understand? Not until 7:00.” 

 

“I understand,” she said as she walked around him to leave the room. When she had exited, she closed the door, letting the loud clanking of metal ring down the hallway. 

 

As she made her way back to her room, something inside her told her that everything about that situation was unusual and that she should just leave. She should want to get as far away from Joshua McGuire as possible. But still, a very small part of her wanted to stay. She wanted to feel his touch again; she wanted to be close to him again. She couldn’t get him out of her mind, and the more mysterious he became, the more she wanted to know him. 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

When her alarm went off at 6:45 the next morning, she felt a momentary lapse of confusion. Why was she getting up so early? Then the events of the night before came flooding back to her. Joshua! He’s still chained up in the small, dark room at the end of the hall. 

 

Pushing herself out of bed quickly, she hurried across the room to the large three-sided mirror to observe herself. She contemplated changing out of the over-sized T-shirt and shorts that she always wore to bed into something more appropriate. But, if she did would it look like she was trying to get dressed up for him? She didn’t want him to know that she was attracted to him—he was her boss. But for that same reason, wouldn’t it be inappropriate for her to go see him in her pajamas? 

 

She leaned forward and squinted at her face in the mirror. She looked tired, and her hair was tossed around messily. She hurriedly reached for her brush on top of the dresser and ran it through her hair. She stepped back to look at herself again. She was almost convinced that she should change her clothes when she caught sight of the clock on the nightstand next to her bed—6:59. 

 

She didn’t have time to change. She rushed out of her room, still barefooted and half asleep. When she reached the metal door at the end of the hall she hesitated for a second. Her hands began to tremble as she typed in the four-digit code. Thankfully she had remembered it correctly, and she heard the metal rods in it the shift around, and then the door popped open slightly.

 

Pushing it open, she almost let out a loud gasp at what she saw. Joshua’s body was hanging limply, held up only by the chains suspended from the ceiling. And he was completely naked. She noted the muscles running along his back, and his tight, defined legs. His clothes were lying on the floor around his feet, ripped to shreds. She ran around him quickly, taking his face in her hands. 

 

His eyes were closed, and his face had become scruffy with hair overnight. There was a fine layer of sweat covering his brow. His breathing was labored and heavy, and his body seemed to be shaking slightly. “Joshua,” she said to him softly, still holding his face in her hands. 

 

He opened his eyes quickly. They were bloodshot—it looked like he hadn’t slept at all the night before. “Margaret,” he said, his voice weak and barely a whisper. 

 

“What happened to you?” she asked as she began undoing the restraints on his wrists. She tried not to look, but she couldn’t help but notice his strong chest, covered almost entirely in dark hair. Something about him seemed so rugged. She had never thought of him that way before. He was so professional and sophisticated, collected and refined. But now he looked strong, tough, and brawny. 

 

In an effort not to let her gaze wander further over his naked body, she lifted her eyes to his. His eyes were the same deep blue they always were, but in that moment, they seemed to be filled with a sort of fire. The air around them suddenly became filled with tension and heat. She had to catch her breath before she could continue working on the strap wrapped around his wrist. 

 

When his hands were free he slumped to the ground. Not wanting to be too close to him for too long, Margaret quickly knelt down and undid the bindings around his ankles. “Seriously, Joshua. Are you all right? What happened?” she asked as she pushed herself up. 

 

He reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her before she could get to her feet. “Don’t go,” he said firmly. 

 

His hand was wrapped tightly around her wrist. She turned her face away from him as she let him pull her down onto the floor next to him. “Joshua,” she tried to ask again, “please tell me what happened. Are you okay?” 

 

Again, he didn’t answer. He just reached his hand up and placed it under her chin, turning her face to his. Her stomach turned to knots, and the room felt like it was beginning to spin. He ran his hand through her hair, sending a shiver run down her spine. 

 

Something about him was just so captivating to her. She couldn’t pull herself away from his touch; she couldn’t force herself to stop as she reached her hand out to wrap it around the back of his neck. 

 

Almost simultaneously they pulled each other close. When he pressed his lips against hers, she felt an overwhelming sensation of both satisfaction and longing at the same time. He wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling her closer to him. In one swift motion, he had grabbed onto the edge of her T-shirt and lifted it off over her head. At the same time, he leaned back onto the floor, pulling her down on top of him. She felt his bare chest against hers, and her heart began to beat strong and harder. 

 

He intertwined his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back, and kissing her neck passionately. She pressed her hands against his chest. His breathing was fast, and his heart was racing. He released her hair, and moved his hands down to her hips, feeling the curve of her body, and keeping her body pressed close to him. 

 

She sat back, and ran her fingers over his chest, outlining his muscles. His eyes weren’t as fierce as they had been before, but as they moved up and down her body, drinking her in, they were still filled with lust. He reached up and ran his hands slowly up her sides, running his fingers over her chest, and sending a tingling sensation bolting through her. 

 

He pushed himself up so that his face was once again close to her. Still sitting on his lap, she leaned in to kiss him again. The surge of passion that spread between them caused him to wrap his arms around her, and spin her around so that she was lying on her back next to him. He reached down and pulled at the ties of her shorts. After she slipped them off, he began to kiss her passionately. Her body ached with desire for him. 

 

The feeling of being with him sent pleasure surging throughout her body. She pulled him down onto her, wrapping her arms around him, and wanting to keep him close. 

 

But something in the back of her head stopped her suddenly. This was wrong—she knew it was wrong. He was her boss. She wanted to be with him; she wanted to feel him close to her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she gently placed her hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly. 

 

“We can’t do this,” she said softly. 

 

“What?” he asked her breathless. 

 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she said again regretfully. 

 

He rolled onto his side, and she sat up quickly, grabbing her clothes, which were lying around her and holding them to her body. “I’m sorry, Joshua,” she began. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she felt her face burning red from both passion and embarrassment. “It’s just that, well, you’re my boss, and I just don’t think…” 

 

“You’re right,” he said standing up quickly and collecting the scraps of his clothes and trying to cover himself as best as he could with them. “I’m sorry,” he said remorsefully. His voice sounded hurt, sad, and vulnerable. “It’s just,” he sighed deeply, “when I saw you, I had to kiss you. I had to reach out to you. Being near you helps me.” 

 

“Helps you?” 

 

“It calms me. It calms my anger.” 

 

“Anger?” she repeated the word quietly. 

 

“It won’t happen again. I promise.” He didn’t wait to hear her response. He walked quickly towards the door and pulled it open, disappearing into the hallway. 

 

What did he mean by “anger” she wondered to herself as she stared at the empty space where he was just standing. Her heart was still racing, and her hands shook as she tried to pull her shorts back on. Did he have anger problems? Is that why he needed to be locked up? Was he dangerous?

 

Although a part of her was somewhat scared by the thought, she couldn’t get the feeling of his skin pressed against hers out of her mind. His touch was delicate—not that of a man who would ever hurt her. Something inside her told her that she didn’t need to be afraid of him. She didn’t need to be scared to be near him—she didn’t want to be scared to be near him. 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

After working with Joshua McGuire for three weeks, Margaret found herself no longer uncomfortable around him. The qualities of him that she found usual at first had merely become part of her routine. Every night at 11:00 she would chain him up, and every morning she would return to release him at 7:00. Some mornings his clothes would be shredded and ripped off, sprawled out on the floor at his feet. Others, he would be standing, dressed as elegantly as he was when she locked him up, waiting to greet her with a smile when she pushed open the large, heavy metal door. 

 

She realized that his schedule kept him in the house constantly. After being freed, he would normally go to bed, and sleep from 7:00 until 12:30, maybe later. When he woke up, he had lunch. He always invited Margaret to join him. They would eat in almost complete silence. Occasionally, he would make a comment to her, usually, something she didn’t completely understand. 

 

“Would you consider yourself a strong person, Margaret?” he asked her one day as they ate. 

 

“Physically?” She set down her fork and looked at him, confused. 

 

“Physically, emotionally, mentally… whatever,” he replied calmly. 

 

She thought for a moment before answering. “Physically I don’t consider myself overly strong, but I wouldn’t say I’m weak either,” she began. “Emotionally? I suppose you could say that I am, and mentally… Isn’t that the same as emotionally?” 

 

“Not at all,” he disagreed with her. “Emotional strength is tied to how much you let your emotions show. How much you let other people have an impact on what and how you feel.” 

 

“And mental strength?”

 

“Mental strength is taking that a step further. Not only refusing to express your feelings openly but in essence refusing to feel them at all.”  

 

“Is that possible?” she asked as she resumed eating. 

 

“If it is, I haven’t figured out how to do it.” 

 

That conversation, and others like it, often left her feeling like he was trying to tell her something—something personal about himself. But she couldn’t figure out what it was.

 

After eating lunch, Joshua often locked himself away in his office, where he stayed for the next five or six hours. When he was done doing whatever it is he busied himself with, he would have dinner. Again, Margaret would join him, and they would eat in silence. After dinner, she would lock him up, and the entire routine would start again the same way the next day. 

 

When she wasn’t eating with him, or sleeping, Margaret found other ways to busy herself. He showed her the large library, and she spent a lot of her afternoons reading. Some days she would help Henry with the chores around the house, and others she would just lock herself away in her room, practicing lines from some of her favorite plays. 

 

She never understood why Joshua was paying her and giving her a place to live if he really only needed her to lock him up at night and let him out in the morning. And if that’s all he really required of her, why couldn’t she leave during the day? 

 

One morning, after releasing him from the small room, she decided to ask him. She waited outside his bedroom door just long enough to be sure that he had dressed completely. It had been one of those mornings that she found him naked, exhausted, and visibly upset. 

 

“Joshua,” she said, knocking softly on his door. 

 

It took a moment, but eventually he appeared, pulling the door open quickly and looking at her sleepily. “Yes, Margaret?” he asked her. 

 

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said nervously. Maybe coming to talk to him at this time was a bad idea. She should have waited until he got to rest a little.

 

“It’s okay, Margaret,” he said stepping to the side and motioning for her to come in. “You’re never a bother.”

 

She walked into the huge room slowly. The bed in the center of it was even larger than her king-sized bed, and on the wall in front of it was an enormous flat-screen TV. The far wall was made up entirely of windows, like a lot of the rooms in the house, and there were two doors—one leading to his closet and one to his private bathroom. 

 

On the opposite side of the bed, in front of the window was a small sitting area. She made her way there and he followed her. “I just wanted to talk to you about my work and living arrangement,” she said softly when they were seated across from each other. 

 

His face flashed with worry, but he quickly collected himself before speaking. “What about them, Margaret?” 

 

“Am I trapped here, Mr. McGuire?” she asked him quickly. Once she had said the words out loud she turned her focus out the window, not wanting to see his reaction to her question. 

 

He shifted his weight around in the chair and let out a deep sign. “Why do you ask that, Margaret?” he said finally. His voice sounded hurt. 

 

“It’s just that I can’t leave, or at least I never do leave. You said you want me here at all times, in case you suddenly need me for something, but the only thing you ask me to do it lock you up at night and release you in the morning.” 

 

“You’re right,” he admitted. “For the last few weeks, I have only needed you at night and in the mornings. But there may come the day that I need you in the afternoon, or in the middle of the morning, or at virtually any hour. There’s no way to be sure.” 

 

“So yes?” she said turning to look at him sadly. “I am trapped here?” 

 

“Margaret,” he said, sounding angry all of the sudden. “It was part of the job. You being here was part of the job. You accepted the job.” 

 

“I didn’t think it meant I had to be here all day every day!” she said in her defense. “I thought I would at least be able to have some sort of a life outside of the house!” 

 

“Where is this coming from?” he asked her almost aggressively. “You never complained about the arrangements before. Why now?” 

 

“Because I’ve been here for three and a half weeks! Three and a half weeks without being outside, even once!” 

 

He stood to his feet quickly, his face red and his hands clenched into fists. “Then go!” he shouted down at her. 

 

His aggressive stance scared her. She had never seen him like that before. She didn’t think he could ever be like that! She remembered his comments about anger and controlling his emotions. Flustered, she pushed herself up, almost knocking the chair backward as she did so. “Go?” she asked softly. 

 

He stepped towards her, and she stepped back. With that the chair did clatter to the ground, causing her to jump. “No,” he said, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. “No, I didn’t mean that. Don’t go. Or do. Whatever you’d like, Margaret.” 

 

“I don’t want to leave,” she said softly. “I just want to know that I’m allowed to if I ever do one day.” 

 

He reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry I spoke to you that way,” he said, sincerity heavy on his voice. “And yes, Margaret, if you ever decide to leave, you can. I don’t want you to feel like you’re a prisoner here. I want you to be here because you want to be.” 

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

Two days after their argument, the tension between Margaret and Joshua was still strong. It wasn’t in an aggressive sense, though. It seemed like that moment between them somehow sparked up the same passion that had clouded their judgment the first morning she released him from his chains. 

 

When she went to see him that morning, he was still dressed and greeted her warmly. “It’s always good to see you in the mornings, Margaret,” he said to her kindly as they exited the room with the metal door. 

 

“I have to admit, Joshua. I enjoy seeing you in the morning as well,” she said sincerely as he pushed open the door to his room. 

 

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” he said as he let the door close between them. 

 

She made her way to the kitchen where Henry had her breakfast prepared and waiting. As she ate, she couldn’t get her mind off of Joshua. She scolded herself mentally, reminding herself that he was her boss. There could never be anything between them. 

 

It was almost as if the universe were trying to give her a sign that she was right, because just as Henry was collecting her dishes her phone began to ring. She didn’t recognize the number.

 

“Hello?” she picked up. 

 

“Maggie?” the voice on the other line asked. 

 

“Yes. Who is this?” she asked, perhaps a little too standoffishly. 

 

“Michael,” the voice answered. There was a pause, and she felt bad because she knew he was waiting for her to remember him. “I’m Carrie’s friend,” he finally said. 

 

“Oh!” she exclaimed, a little embarrassed. “Of course! Michael! From the audition, right?” 

 

“Yes,” he said, relief in his tone. “I asked Carrie for your number. I hope that’s okay.” 

 

“Oh, sure,” she replied. “That’s fine.” 

 

“I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink or something tonight? Maybe dinner?” 

 

She let out a soft giggle, quickly clapping her hand over her mouth, hoping he didn’t hear it. It had been a long time since she had been on a date, at least as long as she had been in the city. “Are you asking me on a date, Michael?” she asked, not letting her real excitement come across. 

 

“If you’re interested,” he answered. 

 

“Well,” she tried to sound like she was considering the offer a lot more than she really was. “I suppose it would be nice to go out for a drink or something,” she finally agreed. 

 

“You have to be here tonight,” she heard Joshua’s voice say from behind her. 

 

Her heart stopped. She turned to look up at him. The expression on his face was one she wasn’t very familiar with. She hadn’t seen him look that way since the first day he brought her to the room with the metal door—he looked hurt. 

 

“I’m going to have to call you back, Michael,” she said quickly, ending the call before hearing his response. “Were you spying on me?” she accused Joshua as she stood up to address him. 

 

“Spying on you?” he asked laughing a little. “Margaret, you’re in the dining room. It’s not like you’re locked away in your room or somewhere where I would have to actually spy to overhear your conversation.

 

“I thought you were sleeping.” 

 

“I couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged walking over and taking a seat at the table. “So, let’s talk about tonight,” he said motioning for her to sit next to him. 

 

“Are you going to tell me I’m not allowed to go?” she asked as she took her seat. “Do you think you can somehow control my life and what I do?” She noted a sense of disdain in her voice. She had never imagined she would talk to him like that. She wasn’t sure where the frustration was coming from. Maybe it was being stuck in the house all day, every day. Or maybe it was having to be so close to him constantly, feeling her attraction towards him grow on a daily basis, and not being able to act on it. 

 

“I don’t want to control you, Margaret,” he said his voice still calm, although the look on his face was still one of hurt. 

 

“Then why can't I see Michael?” She wondered if it was because he was jealous. 

 

“You can,” he said after thinking for a moment. “Bring him here.” 

 

“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

 

“I have a home cinema. You can both come here, watch a movie, and you’ll just have to slip away for five minutes at 11:00 to fulfill your duties.” 

 

“I don’t know…” she said contemplating the option. 

 

“I need you, Margaret,” he said reaching out and placing his hand on hers. “Please.” 

 

Her heart fluttered in her chest. Hearing him say he needed her had more of an impact on it than it should have. “I’ll ask him,” she said quietly. 

 

“Thank you.” 

 

She went to her room to call Michael back. This time, if Joshua had anything to say about her conversation she would know that he really was spying on her. 

 

“Michael? Hi, it’s me,” she said nervously when he answered the phone. 

 

“Hey, Maggie. So, we on for tonight?” 

 

“Actually, about that,” she started, although she wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed. “I completely forgot that I told my boss I would stay around the house tonight. He needs my help with something.” 

 

“Oh,” he sounded a little upset. “Maybe another time?” 

 

“No!” she said quickly. “It’s not that I can’t see you. It’s just that… Well, you see…” She hated this situation. She felt awkward and wasn’t sure how to explain something she didn’t even understand herself. “Joshua has a theater here. He said we can use it. So, if you’d like…” 

 

“Joshua who?” he asked quickly, cutting her off. 

 

“Joshua McGuire.” 

 

“What?” he said loudly. “You work for Joshua McGuire?” 

 

“Yes,” she said unsure of how he knew about Joshua.”

 

“You work for one of the richest men in the city?” he continued to speak with amazement. 

 

She had never realized exactly how much money Joshua had. She had never asked or even thought to. “How do you know that?” she questioned Michael. 

 

“Everyone knows about Joshua McGuire!” His tone made her feel stupid that she didn’t know about him before working for him. 

 

“Alright,” she said wanting to change the topic. “So, are you up for that? Coming back here and watching a movie or something?” 

 

“Hell yeah!” he said excitedly. “What time should I be there?” 

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

            Margaret couldn’t believe how nervous she was waiting for Michael to show up. She tried on at least three different outfits, spending at least fifteen minutes in each in front of the three-sided mirror, spinning around, and scrutinizing every inch of herself. Eventually, she settled for a floral print dress that was snug on the top but flowed out in a soft ruffle through the skirt. She decided on a pair of strappy wedge heels, and a subtle pearl necklace. 

 

            When she walked out of her room and into the sitting room, Joshua stood to greet her but seemed to be left speechless upon seeing her. “Margaret,” he said in an airy voice. “You look…” 

 

She blushed, looking down at her dress and pulling at the skirt nervously. “Thank you.” 

 

“What time will he be here?” Joshua asked, taking his seat again, but not moving his gaze off of Margaret. 

 

“At 9:00,” she answered. 

 

“So, any minute now. I’ll be sure I’m out of your way for the night,” he added. 

 

“I don’t want you to feel unwelcome in your own home!” she objected. 

 

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” he smiled up at her. “This is your home too now, Margaret. I want you to feel like it is at least.” 

 

His words sent her heart racing the same way it always seemed to do when she was around him. “That’s very sweet of you.” 

 

She wanted to continue talking to him, but she couldn’t think of what to say. The air in the room was filled with nervous, uncomfortable tension. She wasn’t sure if it was coming from her or from him. He looked a little out of sorts. He kept shifting his weight around in his chair and stealing occasional glances in her direction. 

 

When the buzzer rang through the room, it caused her to jump a little. Joshua got to his feet and walked across the room. “I’ll see you at 11:00,” he said to her as he disappeared down the hall. 

 

She heard Henry answer the intercom, and just a few moments later the elevator opened and Michael appeared. “Whoa!” he exclaimed as he stepped out, looking around the room. 

 

She laughed a little as she walked towards him. “It’s pretty impressive, huh?” 

 

“You can say that again!” His eyes were wide, as if they were trying to absorb everything he saw. He scanned the room three or four times before looking at her. “You look nice,” he said to her smiling. 

 

“Thank you,” she said. She didn’t blush the way she did when Joshua looked at her. She didn’t feel her heart quicken or her hands start to shake. “You do, too,” she replied. He did look nice. He was wearing a pair of jeans with a red button up that made his dark blond hair almost seem to have a strawberry color to it. 

 

“Mr. McGuire said to show you two to the cinema,” Henry said in his usual dry manner. 

 

“Thank you, Henry,” she said turning to him. He led them down a different hall than usual. It was tucked away next to the elevator, and she had never actually noticed it before. Maybe because all of her attention was on the hall that led to her room, Joshua’s room, and the room with the metal door. 

 

This new hall only had one door at the very end of it. When they walked through it, she was left as impressed as Michael. It looked like they had actually walked into a miniature movie theater. There were six rows of theater chairs, an enormous screen, and even a small concession area in the back. “This is awesome!” Michael yelled out as he ran into the room. His actions reminded her of those of a child. She tried to push that thought out of her head, though. She was determined to have a good night. 

 

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything, but my shift ends at 10:00, so after that you’re on your own,” Henry said as he left them alone. 

 

“So, how does this work?” Michael asked, spinning around to look at her. 

 

“What?” she asked confused. 

 

He plopped himself down in one of the seats as he continued speaking. “You are working here. Do you get to live here as well?” 

 

She laughed a little as she walked over to sit next to him. “Yes,” she answered. “I live here.” 

 

“That’s so dope!” he yelled excitedly. 

 

“I suppose you could say that,” she answered quickly, not letting her true reaction to his outburst come through. 

 

“And what do you do exactly, to get put up in a kick-ass place like this?” 

 

The way he talked continued to turn her off. It was so superficial and almost juvenile. “Well, I basically serve as Mr. McGuire’s personal assistant,” she replied. She didn’t want to go into the details of what that entailed, however. 

 

“Well, I’m glad we didn’t go out in the end,” he said chuckling. 

 

“Why is that?” 

 

“Because! Why would I pay to take you out when we have this whole place to hang out in?” 

 

She furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him, taken aback by his statement. “Well, it was very nice of Joshua to let us use this place for the night,” she agreed, but apprehensively. 

 

“I’d say so!” Michael continued to speak loudly. “I mean, waiting tables is enough for me to get by, but I have to keep a pretty tight budget.” 

 

“Have you gotten any acting jobs recently?” she asked him. 

 

“A few things, but nothing major. A part in some stupid way way way off Broadway musical, and a spot in a local commercial.” 

 

“That’s great!” she said jealous of his success. As minimal as it was, it was still better than what she had gotten. 

 

“It’s a start, I suppose,” he shrugged. “Why don’t we pick a movie?” 

 

As they flipped through the selection of movies, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander back to Joshua. What was he doing at that moment? Was he thinking about her? No! That’s ridiculous. Why would be he thinking about her? She tried to keep her attention on Michael, but every time he opened his mouth, she found him more and more immature. Compared to Joshua he was completely unrefined and brazen. 

 

After they had made their choice, they took their seats in the front row. She snuggled up in the chair next to Michael and let him put his arm around her. She kept trying to slyly check her watch, waiting for 11:00 so she could escape to see Joshua again. She didn’t even notice what movie they were watching, but from time to time Michael would burst out laughing, so she did the same. 

 

As the time got closer and closer, it became harder and harder for her to focus on what was going on around her. She kept her eyes fixed on her watch instead of the screen. When a loud explosion from the movie startled her, she looked up quickly. She hadn’t realized how close Michael had gotten. He was leaning to the side, his face only inches from hers. His left arm was still around her shoulders, but his right hand had somehow ended up on her leg. 

 

She giggled nervously as she tried to adjust herself, hoping to pull away from him slightly. He kept his arm tightly around her, though, not letting her move. He turned to look at her, his green eyes glaring into hers. “What’s wrong?” he asked her. Something about the tone of his voice let her know that he was only feigning concern. 

 

“It’s just getting a little hot,” she said still trying to wiggle free of his hold. 

 

“I don’t think so,” he said as he leaned in closer to her. “But we can get it really steamy in here if that’s what you want.”

 

“No,” she said quickly, reaching up to push him away. “I don’t think…” She couldn’t finish her sentence, because as she spoke he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her face towards him, pressing his lips against hers. 

 

She let out a muffled yell, but he didn’t stop. He moved his hand from her leg to her chest, grabbing at her greedily. She pushed against his chest as forcefully as she could, but she couldn’t move him. He shoved his hand down her top, sending a feeling of disgust running through her. 

 

He pulled away from her quickly, leaving his hand on her chest, and keeping her pinned back against the chair. He reached down with his free hand to begin undoing his jeans. “Come on, Maggie,” he said in a deviant voice. “You know you want this.” 

 

“No!” she yelled out, but before her screams could be fully articulated he reached out and cupped his hand over her mouth. “Don’t yell,” he ordered her. “It’ll be quicker if you don’t yell.” With is pants undone and shoved down to his thighs he leaned back in to press his lips to hers, more to stifle her yells for help than to kiss her. He reached his hand down and slid it slowly up her skirt. 

 

She felt like the room was closing in around her. She couldn’t breathe, and her heart felt like it was pounding so hard that it would explode out of her chest any moment. 

 

Suddenly, something happened. Something came bursting into the room. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it was dark and covered in hair. The beast looked like a gorilla! Michael turned to look at it, his eyes large with fear. The beast rushed over to them, ripping Michael away from her. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. As she watched the animal throw Michael back against a wall and then lunge forward to attack the room began to spin faster and faster around her, until all of the sudden everything went black. 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

When she regained consciousness, Margaret wasn’t sure where she was. She kept her eyes shut tightly, afraid to open them. She was lying on the ground. She must have fallen forward when she blacked out. The images of the night flashed through her mind. 

 

She was with Michael. They were watching a movie, and then he tried to rape her. That much she was sure of. But what happened next was too strange to be true. She remembered a gorilla. A gorilla? That couldn’t be right. It couldn’t have been. But something did come in the room; something did save her. 

 

She reached her hands up and ran them through her hair, taking a deep breath before opening her eyes. When she did, she looked around the room. Everything seemed to be in order. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. She tried to push herself up to her feet, but as she did she saw him. 

 

In the far corner of the room was a gorilla. It was large—larger than any gorilla she had seen before. It was huddled into a ball, but its eyes were fixed on her. 

 

She ducked back down quickly, trying to hide, but it was too late. She heard the animal begin to move towards her. Under the seats, she could see its massive hands and feet getting closer. When it got to the front row, standing only ten feet away from her, it stopped. 

 

She began to feel dizzy, and she was afraid she would pass out again. She forced herself to take deep breaths. If she lost consciousness there’s no telling what the animal might do to her. She had to stay alert. Maybe she could at least attempt to defend herself. The gorilla stared at her but didn’t move. 

 

The look on its face seemed like one of sadness. It tilted its head to the side and took one hesitant step forward. As it did she backed herself up, trying to keep the distance between them. It took another step, and she scooted back again. After only a few shuffles backward she felt herself hit the wall. She was trapped! The animal continued coming towards her, though. 

 

When it reached her, it sat down abruptly. When it leaned forward she wanted to scream, but before she could, he rested his head gently on her chest and looked up at her. 

 

The eyes! There was something about his eyes that seemed familiar to her. She looked at them closely, and as she did she felt her hands stop shaking and her breathing become steadier. They were the same dark blue eyes that she had looked into for the last month. It was Joshua! 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

“I don’t understand,” she said more to herself than to him. “How… How is it possible?”

 

They were no longer in the theater. They were in his room. When he transitioned back to his human form, the scene was so intense that it caused Margaret to pass out again. She tried to replay the images in her mind. In one instant she was sitting in the corner of the cinema, with a gorilla resting his head on her lap. And then, almost in a flash, the animal began to shake violently and right before her eyes, transformed into the man she had come to have feelings for secretly.  

 

He had carried her back to his room, where he dressed quickly and waited for her to come to. When she did, she was lying on his bed, and he was sitting next to her, running his hands through her hair. 

 

“I don’t know why it happens,” he said to her remorsefully. 

 

“How long?” she asked softly. 

 

“My entire life,” he answered slowly, letting the words wash over her. “For as long as I can remember, at least.” 

 

“Is that why I have to chain you up every night?” she said, finally putting all the pieces together. 

 

“Yes. The shifts—they’re becoming more intense, more frequent. I can’t control it,” he admitted.

 

“Does it happen every night?” she asked. 

 

“You already know the answer to that.” 

 

“So, the mornings that I come in and you’re… you’re naked?” 

 

“Yes. Those are the nights that I shift.”

 

“But that’s almost every other day!” 

 

“It didn’t use to happen so often. In the past, I could even control it. I could decide when I changed. But now, it seems like the beast inside me is controlling me, not the other way around.” 

 

“That’s what you meant when you were talking about being mentally strong,” she said as everything fell more and more into place. 

 

“Yes,” he admitted. “It’s something I wish I could take hold of. But sometimes I just feel so filled with rage and anger that it consumes me.” He stood to his feet quickly, covering his face with his hands. He let out a soft groan, almost like saying the words was causing him to feel the rage right then. “It’s ruining my life, Margaret!” he exclaimed loudly. 

 

She pushed herself up and rushed over to his side. “What do you mean?” she asked, putting her arm around him, trying to comfort him. 

 

“Everyone thinks I’m losing it!” he continued to speak emphatically. “I had to sell my company! I couldn’t risk going into work every day. The high-stress and constant fights with clients were starting to make it too dangerous.” He turned to face her. His face softened slightly as he looked down at her. “I’ve had to lock myself away here. I haven’t left my home in years,” he said in almost a whisper. “They’re written articles on me, I’ve seen them. ‘Billionaire loses his mind and his company’ was probably the worst of the headlines.” 

 

She took him by the hand and led him back to the bed. “Is it really that bad?” she asked. 

 

“Last night was the worst,” he said quietly. “Your date…”

 

“Michael,” she said under her breath. “What happened to him?” 

 

“I can’t tell you.” He turned away from her as he spoke. 

 

She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her again. “Tell me, Joshua.” 

 

“I killed him, Margaret.” As he said the words a cold shiver ran up her spine. “I don’t know what came over me. But I saw him on top of you like that, and I just… I just lost it! I had to protect you. I had to save you somehow.” 

 

The mixture of emotions she felt left her speechless. She was grateful for his actions, but at the same time the realization that he killed someone was still heavy on her heart. 

 

“I understand if you want to leave. If you don’t feel safe here anymore,” he said reaching his hand out and running it along her chin. 

 

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said looking him deep in the eyes. She couldn’t ever be afraid of him. She knew him. He was kind, and gentlemanly, and sophisticated. He didn’t scare her—her made her feel safe.

 

“Maybe you should be,” he whispered as he leaned in closer. 

 

She didn’t answer. She just wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled his face to hers. As they kissed passionately, her body began to ache for him. She ran her hands down his back, feeling his strong, defined muscles. He pulled away slightly and lifted the shirt off over his head. She slowly removed her dress, her whole body trembling with anticipation. When they came together again, they collapsed into the bed in a rush of passion. 

 

He delicately kissed her body, moving from her neck to her chest, then to her stomach, sending a tingle down her spine. With each gentle peck, her body surged with desire. She ran her fingers through his hair, her hands shaking. 

 

When he looked up at her, his eyes were filled with a spark of excitement. She pulled him back up to her, and as he kissed her neck, she nibbled at his ear. His hands ran up and down her body, feeling her soft skin under his fingertips. She pushed him up off of her and onto his back. She positioned herself on top of him, letting the sensation of being with him fill her completely. She let out a soft cry of pleasure as he reached up and pulled her down on top of him. He pulled at her hair, and she sank her teeth into his neck. Their bodies moved as one, the experience becoming more intense and passionate as they let themselves become lost in the moment. 

 

There was no regret. There was no holding back. She gave herself to him completely. His strong arms and muscular frame enveloped her, making her feel completely safe. The feeling of being with him left her overwhelmed with passion and comfort. She didn’t want the experience to end. She wanted to be with him forever, to always have his body close to hers. Everything about being with him was absolutely perfect and left her wanting more. 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

When she woke up the next morning, she felt like her life had somehow changed. Something inside her had been released. She didn’t feel like the shy, awkward girl who came to the city with nothing. She felt renewed, strong, and confident. But when she rolled over to wrap her arm around Joshua and pull him close, all those feelings left at once. He was gone. 

 

She sat up quickly, searching the room. He was nowhere to be seen. A sinking feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach as she dressed and slipped out into the hall to look for him. She found him where she knew she would—in the sitting room. “You left,” she said softly as she walked up behind him. 

 

“We need to talk, Margaret,” he said to her coldly, not turning to address her. 

 

The feeling in her stomach became more intense as she walked around to the front of the couch and sat down next to him. His eyes were fixed on the floor, but she could still see that they were filled with sadness. “What is it?” she asked nervously. 

 

“What happened, between you and me last night, it shouldn’t have,” he said, sadness and remorse heavy on his voice. 

 

Although she had an idea of what he would say, hearing the words vocalized still sent her world crashing down around her. “I don’t understand,” she said, trying to keep the tears from escaping. 

 

He turned and looked at her slowly. “It’s not safe for you, Margaret.” 

 

“But I told you, I’m not afraid of you. I trust you!” 

 

“You shouldn’t.” He took her hand in his. “I don’t trust me.” 

 

“But you said,” she tried to interject. “You said that I calmed you, right? That being with me helped to relax you?” 

 

“You do, Margaret. Honestly, you do.” 

 

“Then why…?” She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

 

“Because,” he said letting out a long sigh. “Because, like I told you, it’s getting more intense—harder to control. Being with you helps for now, but in a month?” He reached out and brushed the tears from her face. “I can’t risk hurting you. If I ever did anything to you…” his voice cracked slightly. “I couldn’t live with myself if I ever did anything to hurt you.” 

 

“You wouldn’t do that!” she exclaimed. 

 

“I would like to think that, too,” he admitted. “But after what happened with Michael, I’m not so sure I can believe it. I don’t know who I am right now. I haven’t for a long time.”

 

The room fell silent as they sat, staring into each other’s eyes. Margaret couldn’t stop her heart from aching. “So, what now?” she said in a hushed tone. 

 

“There’s only one option.” He looked away from her as he spoke. “I’m sorry, but you have to leave, Margaret. The arrangement between us needs to end.” 

 

She wanted to argue with him; she wanted to change his mind, but she couldn’t find the words. His mind was made up, and there was nothing she could do about it. She stood without saying anything and began walking towards her room.

 

When she got to her room, she stood motionless for a minute. Where did she go now? What did she do? She looked around the room and an overwhelming sadness filled her. It wasn’t because she had to leave the high-end penthouse or the lifestyle she had let grow on her. It was because she had to leave him. “Do you need help?” she heard Joshua ask. She hadn’t noticed that he had followed her down the hall. 

 

She turned slowly to look up at him, the tears flowing freely from her eyes. “I don’t have anywhere to go,” she sobbed. 

 

“What?” he asked, a look of concern and hurt crossing his face. 

 

“I came here, to the city, with nothing. I have no friends; I have no life, no money, nowhere to go!” As she spoke he reached his arms out and wrapped them around her, pulling her into his chest. She buried her face into him and cried softly. He ran his fingers through her hair, trying to calm her. 

 

She pulled back slightly and wiped her palm along her cheeks, trying to dry her tears. “When I came here I wanted adventure. I wanted to find something new and exciting. And I did. I found it with you.” As she spoke she saw the pain in his eyes. “You’re the only person I can really trust,” she said quietly. 

 

“Can I tell you something?” he asked her softly. 

 

“Of course,” she replied. 

 

“You’re the only person, besides Henry and my family, who knows about me. I’ve kept my secret hidden from everyone—my colleagues, my friends. I’ve never felt so completely comfortable with someone as to share that side of myself with them.” 

 

“Then don’t make me leave,” she begged.

 

“I’m very sorry. I wish I could do something to fix all of this. I wish I could be someone else for you. But I can’t, Margaret. I can only be who, or what, I am.” He held her out at arm’s length. “I will arrange for you to stay in one of my apartments in the city.”

 

“No,” she replied firmly. “I can’t let you do that.” 

 

“I insist,” he said pulling her close to him again. “Like I said. I just want to know that you’re going to be okay. Please let me do this for you.” 

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

“I know, mom! I’m really excited. The play is great! Everyone loves it!” Margaret exclaimed into her phone. “You and dad will be able to come see it, right?” 

 

It had been three months since she left her position working for Joshua McGuire. At first, adjusting to life without him was harder than she thought it would be. From time to time she still found herself instinctively looking down at her watch when 11:00pm got close. And in the mornings, she still woke up at 6:45, even though her alarm wasn’t set to go off until 8:00. 

 

The apartment he put her up in was nice. It wasn’t as extravagantly elegant as his penthouse, but it was still much more than she could have ever dreamed of getting for herself. It was in a great neighborhood, and right down the street from that acting agency that Joshua hired to represent her. She didn’t expect him to do that for her. He didn’t even tell her it was him who did it. When she got the call, she was completely in shock. She could never afford to hire an agent, especially one as top-of-the-line as the person she was speaking to! But when they told her they got her information from a reliable and notable source, who believed in her so much he was footing the bill for their services, she put the pieces together. 

 

“Closing night is on Friday,” she continued speaking to her mother. With the help of the agent, she was finally able to land her first officially paid acting job. Rehearsals had been long and intense, but she loved every minute of it. She had even made a few friends who were also performing in the play. 

 

“Great! I can’t wait to see you both!” she said as she dropped the last of her items into the cardboard box in the center of the now empty bedroom. The acting role she got had paid so well that she was able to get her own place. It was smaller than where she was currently living, but it was going to be hers. 

 

“Love you, too. Bye.” When she hung up the phone she stepped back to take in the moment. She had a sense of accomplishment. Everything in her life was going perfectly. Still, one thing was missing—Joshua. He was constantly on her mind. She worried about him. She just wanted to know if he was okay. She had considered calling him a few times, but her better judgment prevented her from actually going through with it. 

 

She pushed the thoughts of him from her mind and continued to move from room to room, making sure that all of her things were packed up. When she reached the kitchen, the chime of the doorbell stopped her. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Confused, she walked over to the door and pulled it open. 

 

What she saw made her heart leap into her throat. “Joshua!” she exclaimed as she stepped back quickly, stunned.

 

“Margaret,” he said formally. “Can I come in?” 

 

“Of course!” she said, stepping to the side and motioning for him to enter. “Is everything okay?” she asked. She didn’t expect to see him ever again. Maybe he was here because something was wrong?

 

“No,” he said when they reached the family room. He took her hands in his and pulled her down onto the couch next to him. “Nothing is okay.” 

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, scared and worried. 

 

“I was wrong to send you away, Margaret. I need you.” 

 

“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her heart began to beat faster.

 

“I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the day you left. I feel hopeless, almost lost without you! I tried to force myself back into my old routine, but it didn’t work. The house feels so empty without you. I feel empty without you.” 

 

His words slowly consumed her, making her feel light-headed. She wasn’t sure if she was really hearing what she thought she was hearing. Could this be a dream? “What are you saying?” she asked, not wanting to let herself get too carried away without being sure she understood what he meant. 

 

“I want you to come live with me, and not as my caretaker. I want to start a life with you. I want to spend every minute of every day with you.” He looked at her intensely. She could sense that he was speaking with sincerity. It was in his eyes—he felt what he was saying down deep. “I love you, Margaret.” 

 

Her emotions overtook her, and she felt her eyes burning with tears. “I think you can call me Maggie now,” she smiled at him as she reached out to throw her arms around his neck and pull her to him. 

 

He laughed, reaching up and placing his hand on her cheek. “I love you, Maggie,” he whispered. 

 

“I love you too, Joshua,” she said as she leaned in to kiss him. In the instant their lips met, she knew she would never have to say goodbye to him ever again. She knew that there was nothing else she needed in the entire world. There, in his arms, she was safe; she was happy. And she would be for the rest of her life.