“What are your plans after graduation?” Richard asks.
“I’d like to get a job with a not-for-profit, hopefully establish my own someday and work with children in foster care.”
“That’s wonderful and something we’d love to expand our foundation to be involved in,” Richard says, genuinely interested. My eyes widen.
“Foundation?” I ask.
“It’s nothing large-scale, of course, but something we established a few years back. Right now it’s mainly focused on children of parents who’ve lost their lives serving, but we’d love to expand.”
I glance at Kam, who’s smiling at me expectantly. I can’t believe he never said anything but Kam’s not a gloater and I don’t know how he could have brought up his parents’ foundation humbly.
“I’d absolutely love to be a part of that,” I say, trying to contain my excitement. The rest of brunch goes smoother than I ever could have imagined. The food is fresh and delicious. I don’t have to say much because Katie and Carolyn are both natural conversationalists, easily guiding the conversation from stories of Katie and Kameron’s childhood to catching up on mutual acquaintances, making sure to include Blue and me in various anecdotes. I’ve seen the phrase lovely in books before and never really understood it, but having met Kam’s parents they truly are lovely.
How can you be part of a charity when you’re a little charity case?
“George, you’re here!” Carolyn exclaims. I turn to see a tall large man approach. He has Carolyn’s features but is tall like Richard.
“You couldn’t keep me from Elie’s brunch,” his voice booms. We all stand.
“Megan, this is my Uncle George,” Kam confirms with a tight smile, and I wonder why it doesn’t reach his eyes. I glance over to Blue and notice his face has become rigid, and think back to his earlier words. Kam’s parents are wonderful, but the rest of them…
“Why, aren’t you striking!” he says, his eyes surveying me as he takes his hand in mine.
“Where’s Aunt Marilyn?” Katie interjects.
“Some charity thing,” he says, almost dismissively. His gaze is still on me and it makes me uncomfortable. Kam wraps a protective arm around my waist.
“Yes, our Kam certainly has excellent taste,” he continues. I give an awkward smile. George has changed the energy in the room. The conversation went from easy to more formal; luckily, he takes up the majority of the conversation talking about business. He and Kam’s dad both work in the financial industry and while Richard is humble like his son, George relishes in his success, boasting of their accomplishments they’ve made this year—which according to George is in the seven-figure range. Blue and I exchange unspoken words. This is what we think when it comes to the rich, proud, pompous, and so entitled it’s almost suffocating. There’s a break in the conversation and I begin to excuse myself to the bathroom.
“Megan, I have to say you look familiar. Maybe I’ve worked with your parents?” he asks, his eyes narrowing in on me. I swallow down my anxiety. The last thing I’d want to talk about with this man is where I’ve come from.
“I don’t think so George,” Richard interjects for me.
“You know I have an excellent memory, Richard. And with a face like Megan’s, she wouldn’t be one I’d forget.” There’s almost an innuendo behind his words.
“You’re mistaken Uncle George. Megan’s family isn’t in finance,” Kam answers, his voice stern.
“You’re a full-time student? Have you done work in the city before?” George asks, studying me.
“No, she hasn’t,” Kameron answers, his tone harder and his glare on his uncle almost menacing.
“Have you given Megan a tour yet Kameron?” Carolyn’s tone breaks the tense energy in the room.
“No, I think I’ll do that now,” he says, back to being my sweet Prince Charming.
“We’ll join you!” Blue adds, standing. Katie excuses all of us and we head into the house. I can’t help but glance back and see George’s eyes still on me.
“You have to excuse my uncle, he’s a bit of a prick sometimes,” Katie says once we’re in the kitchen.
“Sometimes? I thought he was meeting us tomorrow,” Kam adds rigidly.
“I thought it’d be easier to talk to him about the bar today,” Katie admits apologetically.
“But we’re not going to let him ruin our day,” Katie perks up, and leads the tour of the house. It takes a full thirty minutes due to its size. It’s magnificent and large, but full of character. I’m glad Kameron grew up here, that his childhood was wonderful. Seeing all this and meeting his parents helps me understand how he’s turned into the wonderful man he is today. After using a bathroom that’s twice the size of my bedroom, I exit to see Blue waiting for me.
“They went to talk to Uncle George,” Blue exaggerates, and I smile.
“Hey, you know I’ve been thinking. We’ve never really talked about it but, have you ever thought of finding your parents?” he asks almost reluctantly. My heart flutters in my chest.
“Every day.” The words spill out. He nods, his brows furrowing together.
“I can maybe help with that,” he says and my eyes widen, his tone so confident and assured.
“My records are sealed.”
He gives a shrug and a half nod.
“I have ways,” he says, our eyes locking. My heart is teetering, almost breathless. Is it possible? Could he? I’ve given up on the possibility of learning about my parents years ago, resigning to the fact that there are things I’ll just never know. But in this one minute it changed, a flicker of hope that has long been put out starts to burn.
“I need some time but let me see what I can do,” he says, and before I can mutter a “thank you” Katie and Kam come rounding the corner.
“All clear,” she announces happily. Blue approaches her, throwing his arm around her and leading her down the hall. Kam looks at me with a easy smile. I approach him and kiss him softly on the lips.
“Want to see my old room?” he says suggestively and my entire body tingles.
“Absolutely.”
Ian
She’s so freakin beautiful. Last night she became mine, at least physically, but it’s her mind that I want, her thoughts. I’ve never cared about that stuff before but it’s important to me now. I half expected to wake up and she’d be gone, but she’s still here—naked and beautiful like an angel. But she’s more than that. She’s not perfect, even though she looks like it, and I want to know every imperfection she has. This mystery woman. She stirs and I shift my gaze to the ceiling.
“I already caught you staring.” Her voice is lower than usual and husky, and I immediately want to hear it again.
“Can you blame me?” I ask her teasingly. She smiles widely and pretends to think. “I guess I can’t blame you for that,” she says, the lightness in her voice returning.
“How you feeling?” I ask, trying to hide the awkwardness in my voice.
“I haven’t melted and turned into a witch if that’s what you’re implying,” she says with a playful role of her eyes, sitting up in bed. I chuckle. She’s kind of funny.