Julia
Sitting in the library with the fire roaring in the fireplace and surrounded by Donovan’s life as reported by others, I was lost down a rabbit hole of his business endeavors dating back to about fifteen years earlier. In what I was reading, the acquisition of Sherman Brothers Department stores was still fresh and raw. From what I read, it appeared as though Donovan was drowning in lawsuits that claimed everything from improper business practice to the theft of the employees’ retirement savings.
I’d heard this story directly from Van but reading through it in chronological order was nerve-racking. If it were a book, I might skip to the last page to make sure Van succeeded. I didn’t need to flip to the end. I was sitting in his opulent home on his large estate and knew that he hadn’t been taken down by the litigious attacks or the bad press.
There was a lot of bad press.
Submersed in those thoughts, I jumped at the chime of the doorbell.
That’s what I assumed it was. In all the time I’d been here, no one had ever come to the door except for my family, and they were expected. Laying the article upon the stack with others, I stood. As I made my way to the front door a sense of trepidation came over me.
Who would come to Donovan’s home?
I was halfway to the door when the chimes rang again and at the same time my phone buzzed in the pocket of my soft pants. Pulling out the phone, I saw Van’s name.
Instead of saying hi, I jumped to the matter at hand. “Someone’s at your door.”
“Our door,” he corrected. “I meant to call you sooner. It’s Margaret. She picked up a few things and asked if she could bring them by today.”
I exhaled in relief. “I was afraid it was my parents again.”
“I’ll be home soon.”
“Really?” I asked. “It’s only two in the afternoon.”
“Everything is still closed because of the holiday. I’ll explain when I get home.”
I was now to the doors to the entryway. “Okay, see you soon.”
“Julia…”
I waved to Margaret through the sidelight. “I’m letting Margaret in. What is it?”
Van seemed to hesitate before he said, “You’re the best fucking thing I’ve ever done. I just wanted you to know that.”
His words made me smile, filling my cheeks with warmth. As I reached for the doorknob, I saw the marks his belt left on my wrists and pulled the sleeve of my sweater lower to my hand. The marks from the belt weren’t my only souvenirs of last night. My hips bore marks from the edge of the kitchen table.
“Hi,” I said, opening the door wide as momentarily frigid air swirled around us. “Goodness. Come inside.”
Margaret’s arms were filled with shopping bags. It wasn’t food she was delivering but bags with names on the outside I recognized—Saks, Nordstrom, Neiman Marcus, Bloomingdale’s, Henri Bendel. Those were the ones I read as Margaret kicked off her boots and carried the bags into the living room.
“Merry Christmas,” she said with a grin. “I hope you like everything, but if you don’t, I can return it.”
Although this was only our second meeting, I took a moment to look at Margaret, not as someone who works for Van but at her. She was probably younger than my parents and older than I. There was a genuine sweetness to her smile that drew me in and made me feel as if she didn’t judge me.
I lifted one of the bags. “Is there a Saks Fifth Avenue in Ashland that I missed?”
“No, but we have some great boutiques. Donovan asked me to order these things online.” She lifted one bag as the blush in her cheeks deepened. “If I hadn’t realized you weren’t Olivia before, this little bag of lingerie would have been a good hint.”
“Olivia?”
“Donovan’s sister.” Her eyebrows danced as she held the bag.
Taking it from her, I peered inside. Each item was wrapped in tissue paper. The first one was a pair of lace panties. “Oh. I guess this was a good clue.” Warmth crawled from my chest to my neck. “How did you know my size?”
“I guessed. Again, everything can be returned.”
I motioned toward the living room. “Would you like to stay?”