The Summer Of Sunshine And Margot. Susan Mallery
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“Good. Make yourself at home.” Edna pointed to the papers on the dresser. “My cell number is there, if you need to reach me.”
“Thank you.”
Margot quickly unpacked her clothes. The closet was large and well organized and she had more space than she needed.
She set up her laptop and printer in the lounge, along with the books she’d brought. She’d already put together a preliminary workbook for Bianca, which may or may not be something her client was interested in. Still, she would give it a shot. Everyone was different and Margot did her best to accommodate individual learning styles.
She’d also downloaded a fair amount of research on Cardigania. She’d learned the basic history of the country, the size of the population and which industries provided the most revenue. She knew that Cardiganian wool was famous for being both soft and durable and that their chocolate rivaled the best from Switzerland—but there was more to glean from the country’s rich history.
Margot had also done a little more study on Bianca’s past. Once she’d accepted the job, she’d requested a detailed background check on her new client. Not that she was expecting to find a couple of felonies or anything earth-shattering, but it was always good to have more information, rather than less.
By four-thirty, she was settled and ready to begin her job in the morning, which meant it was definitely time to start exploring.
Chapter Four
Alec Mcnicol did not like having people stay in his house. When visiting scholars came to study any of the ancient texts, they worked in one of the archive rooms during the day, then retreated to a hotel at night. The same with the household staff. Edna Stojicic, his very sensible housekeeper, brought a team of cleaners to tend to the large building and worked her magic in the kitchen before disappearing long before 5:00 p.m. There were weeks he never saw her at all. The gardeners rarely needed to speak to him and he communicated with Borys, the full-time woodworker/handyman the old Spanish building required, via text.
On a good day, Alec saw no one, spoke to no one, and that was how he preferred things. He loved his life just as it was. His routine was predictable and that made him happy. Only now he was not dealing only with his mother—there was a stranger to contend with.
At least Margot appeared to be a restful sort of person. She wasn’t loud or garish, nor did she seem the type to always want his attention. Even now, as she moved her things into one of the guest rooms upstairs, he couldn’t hear her at all. Of course, given the solid construction of the monastery, she could be rehearsing with a rock band and if the door was closed, he wouldn’t hear her. The thought made him smile. The smile retreated when someone knocked on his half-closed door.
“Yes?” he called, hoping against hope it wasn’t Bianca come to discuss how he should create a turtle refuge in his backyard, or help her with an application to join SETI. With his mother, one never really knew what to expect.
He was relieved to find Margot in the cloisters hallway, only this was a different Margot than the businesswoman he’d met the previous week. Gone were the sensible glasses, the gray suit, the plain black pumps. Instead she wore dark jeans and a deep purple twinset. As before, her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but unlike last time, her face didn’t have on a lick of makeup.
He could see freckles on her nose and a soft, natural color staining her cheeks. She looked young and impossibly beautiful. With breasts.
He drew in a breath. What in God’s name was wrong with him? He never noticed breasts or any other part of a woman. He wasn’t visual and he certainly didn’t think about size or shape or nipples. Yet thoughts of all three were firmly stuck in his brain. His mother’s trainer, or whatever it was he was supposed to call Margot, had breasts and he had acknowledged them. Only to himself, but still. It was a calamity.
“Hi,” Margot said with a smile. “I just wanted to take a second and tell you I’ve moved in. Edna showed me around. You have a spectacular home. The remodeling job makes the space comfortable while retaining the essence of it being in a monastery. The windows, the carvings around the door. Your home is a wonder.”
Her words calmed him. He managed to nod and motioned for her to enter his office. Keeping his gaze anywhere but her chest, he led her to his desk, where they both took a seat.
“Yes, the work was carefully planned and executed. I, too, am pleased with the outcome.”
“I wanted to confirm the ground rules,” she said. “Edna explained about the door lock code and I’ve seen both floors.” Her mouth curved up at the corners. “Not the basement yet, but I’m so going to explore that. Edna said I was free to go anywhere in the house with the exception of your office and bedroom, of course.”
She put her hands on her lap, resting them calmly. Margot didn’t fidget. He liked that.
“The guest lounge upstairs is comfortable and certainly has everything I need,” she continued. “I’ll use the desk for my work and I’m thinking it would be easier if Bianca and I conducted most of our classes outside.”
He nodded, not sure what any of this had to do with him.
“I prefer to take my meals in my room.” Margot’s tone was firm. “I’m not a member of the family and there’s no need to act like I am. I’ve found it’s much easier on everyone if we all remember that. There’s no awkward conversation and if I have a bad day with your mother, the last thing she would want would be to have dinner with me.”
“Bianca is gone most evenings,” he said. “She often goes to see Wesley or to spend time with her friends.” In fact, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t had dinner with his mother since she moved in nearly two weeks ago. Which was odd considering how it seemed she was always everywhere.
“No matter. I’ll collect my meals from the kitchen and take them upstairs if it’s all the same to you.”
“Excellent. Anything else?”
“Your mother and I begin in the morning. As my contract is with her, I won’t be providing you with updates.”
“I believe I will be the first to notice if you make any progress.”
She studied him. “You still don’t think I can help.”
“I’m not sure anyone can help. My mother answers to no one. She is like a leaf on the wind—she goes where she likes.”
“I thought leaves went where the wind said.”
“You are correct. A poor analogy.” He tried to think of another, but the only thing that came to mind was how much he wanted to look at Margot’s breasts and that certainly wasn’t anything he could mention.
“Tell me a story from when you were little,” she said with a smile. “About your mother.”
The request surprised him. “What kind of story? A good story or a bad one? Are you trying to learn something specific?”
“Not really. I’m just curious and I’d like to get a feel for her. Can you give me one of each?”
He nodded. “When I turned seven, she rented out an ice-cream parlor and treated my entire