Deserve (6 page)

“I thought you’d like to reconnect with an old friend. I’m
sure she’d love to hear from you.”

I grit my teeth. I already know where this conversation is
going. Daddy Samuelson had made a sizeable donation and the Senator is pimping
me out to his daughter. To my father, everyone and everything is a commodity,
including his own son.

I’ll be damned if I make this easy for him. “No. Alicia and
I don’t anything in common. If we wanted to remain friends, we would have done
so over the years.”

His tone becomes curt and impatient. “Fine. Consider it as a
favor, then. Can you bring her as your date to the benefit dinner?”

I’m tempted to tell him no, but he adds, “By the way, it’s a
benefit for the NYPD.”

I can feel the smugness oozing out of his pores. Feeling
cornered, I agree begrudgingly. I resent his manipulation, but it wouldn’t be
the end of the world to reconnect with an old acquaintance. And the department
desperately needs the infusion of funds for new equipment.

The rest of dinner passes without further incident and I
stand up with a sigh of relief. “I’m going to head out now.”

“Before you leave, I have something for you.” My father
pushes away from the dinner table, his face somber. “It’s in the study.”

“Darling, I’m going to watch some TV in the den.” Gail air
kisses his cheek and then nods coldly at me.

I return her nod with just as much ice. Mystified by what he
wants to give me, I follow my father down the hall.

The study has remained unchanged since my childhood. The
large room is paneled with dark oak and the furnishings are heavy and sturdy.
The air reeks of musty books and smoky cigars. I’ve never liked the room, its
atmosphere dark and unwelcoming. As a child, I always found it strange that my
father would want to spend most of his time in this dank room instead of
running outside in the sunshine.

He heads toward his desk, unlocks his drawer, and takes out a
small blue velvet jewelry box. He places it in my palm. “When I went through
the safe, this was in the back.”

Snapping open the top, I inhale sharply and murmur, “Mom’s
ring.” It is a small flawless sapphire set among a circle of brilliant
diamonds. In terms of pure monetary value, the stones are probably not worth a
lot, but the ring itself is priceless. It is rumored to have belonged to a
French royal and has been passed on for generations through my mom’s side. The
Duquesne family is an old and respected line, with a long history tracing back
to the fifteenth century.

“Mom loved this piece. She only wore it on special
occasions.” When I was little, I told her that her eyes were brighter than the
sapphire. She had laughed and told me I had kissed the Blarney Stone. I
remember laughing along with her even though I had no idea what the Blarney
Stone was at the time.

“Yes. She said it gave her confidence when she was facing
down the snobs. She never took it off during campaign season.”

I smile, thinking about my mother wearing this like some
sort of magical talisman, which could insulate her from the ravenous press corps.

“I’m sure she’d want you to have this.”

“Thanks.” I put the box inside my inner pocket, near my
heart.

My dad puts his hand on my shoulder and looks into my eyes.
“Look, son. You may not believe it, but I loved your mom and her death was just
as devastating to me.”

I shift away from his hand and it drops limply to his side.
This is not the first time he’s tried to talk to me about her, but I don’t want
to hear anything he has to say.

Bitterness colors my every word. “You may be able to
bullshit the voters, but I see through the lies. You loved your wife so much
you neglected her while she was alive. You loved her so much you cheated on
her. And you loved her so much you remarried before she was cold in the grave.
And replaced her with the woman you were cheating on her with because it was
politically expedient. Yeah, your brand of love, I can do without.” I turn on
my heel, all of a sudden finding it hard to draw enough oxygen into my lungs.

“Sean!”

I pause without turning around.

“You’re oversimplifying the circumstances, like you do with
everything else. Not everything is black and white.”

“You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.
People live in the grey zone long enough and they can’t tell right from wrong.
I’d rather live in my simple black and white world.”

I stride out of the room without waiting for a response. It
isn’t until I drive out of the gates that I can breathe again.

I feel like a dork loitering outside the residence hall
fifteen minutes before Sean is due to arrive. I tell myself it’s because I
don’t want to keep him waiting, but I know I’m lying to myself. Despite the
stern talk I had with myself to not get overly excited about spending the day
with Sean, my heart won’t listen.

I spent an hour trying to find the perfect outfit, but when
I realized I didn’t have many options, I settled on plain capris, a tank top,
and comfortable canvas shoes. Most of my luggage had consisted of books, after
all. I had never been a girly-girl, but now I wish I had more of an interest in
fashion.

With my butt half on, half off the stone planter next to the
doorway, I exchange a few texts with my friends back in Chicago, but keep my
focus on the street entrance.

“Hi, I’m Josh.”

I startle and jerk away when I hear the voice right near my
ear. My heart thundering with fear, I hastily stand up and turn to face a
stranger.

He’s tall, at least six feet, and looks to be my age. His
face is pale and narrow. I have to suppress a shiver when I meet his dark eyes.
His irises are so black they bleed into his pupils. He doesn’t look unfriendly,
but I feel uneasy under his unblinking stare.

In the back of my mind, I calculate that he can easily
overpower my five feet five frame. As a single woman living in a big city, I
tend to consider all sorts of unlikely scenarios when I meet strangers—especially
males.

“Um…hi, are you a new student?” I ask, trying to keep my
voice friendly while I surreptitiously stick my hand into my messenger bag to
grab my pepper spray. I almost sag in relief when my fingers fold around the
canister. I thumb the notch into place, priming it for use.

“Yes, first year. What’s your name?”

Something about his intensity is off-putting, but I tell
myself I’m being paranoid. He’s probably trying to make new friends if he’s a
first-year student like me. “I’m Maggie.” I don’t share my last name.

“It’s nice to meet you Maggie. Where are you from?”

I narrow my eyes. There’s definitely something odd about
Josh. His speech pattern is abrupt and almost disjointed.

“Maggie!”

When I see my
floormate
Hannah,
come out the door, I smile in relief. Being alone with Josh, even in broad
daylight, makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My instincts are
telling me I should stay away from this guy.
Cael
may
think I’m helpless, but I didn’t survive in a tough neighborhood in Chicago by
being an idiot.

“Hi, Hannah.” I try to convey a message with my eyes, but
she isn’t paying attention to the man standing too close to me.

“Hi, I’m Josh. You’re pretty.” His black eyes are now honed
on Hannah’s face and she slants me a what-the-fuck look. Hannah’s a Jersey girl
and doesn’t take crap from anyone.

Thinking quickly, I snag Hannah’s hand and squeeze tightly, praying
she heeds my nonverbal warning. The last thing I want to do is to provoke him.

I speak hurriedly. “Sorry, Josh, Hannah and I need to be
somewhere. It was nice meeting you.” I flash a fake smile and drag a confused
Hannah out the gates. Luckily, she doesn’t fight me. I glance back and Josh is
still staring fixedly at us, but at least he hasn’t made a move to follow us.

“Maggie, what the
fuck are
you
doing? I have to meet my brother in front,” she hisses as I stride briskly down
the street until we are out of Josh’s view.

“Sorry, Hannah.
Just text your brother to
meet you here.
That guy gave me the heebie-jeebies.” I shudder, trying
to shake off the disturbing incident.

“He was weird, wasn’t he? Who the fuck tells a girl she’s
pretty like that? Jeepers creepers.” She twists her face in distaste, her brown
eyes flashing with determination. “If he comes near me, I’m going to kick his
nuts.”

I grin at the display of her tough-girl attitude. When I met
her that first night in the dorms, I knew we would hit if off. “Calm down,
Wonder Woman. He’s probably just harmless, but to be safe, avoid being alone
with him.”

“You don’t have to tell me, girl.”

Hannah taps something into her phone and I do the same,
texting Sean to meet me around the corner instead. I’m glad he didn’t witness
my encounter with Josh. He might have flipped out or worse—told my
brother.

Two minutes later, a tall, lanky guy dressed in a Mets cap
lopes toward us and instantly, I know it’s Hannah’s brother. Her features are
rounder and softer, but they share the same eyes and strong chin.

She squeals, gives her brother a hug and then turns to me.
“Maggie, I want you to meet my brother, Cory.” Hannah waves her hand at me.
“Cory, this is Maggie Jackson. She’s starting the program with me.”

“Hi, Cory,” I say and hold out my hand. “It’s nice to meet
you.”

“It’s a pleasure, Maggie.” He shakes my hand, but it feels
like he holds it for a fraction of a second too long. I start to feel
self-conscious under his stare. He’s cute in a boyish kind of way, with shaggy
blonde hair and a crooked smile. His eyes are the color of chocolate fudge.

I tug my hand out of his clasp, feeling a blush make its way
up my neck. “Did you help Hannah move to New York?”

“I actually live here. I’m doing my residency right now.”

“Oh! That’s great! Your parents must be so proud to have two
doctors in the same family.”

Hannah makes a face. “Dad is a doctor so he has been
brainwashing us all our lives.”

Cory elbows her and says, “Don’t use Dad as an excuse. You
were always bandaging up your dolls when you were a kid. I still think you deliberately
tore off Barbie’s arm so that you could reset it.”

Hannah looks at me sheepishly and giggles. “I had a whole
box of disabled dolls.”

Her brother chuckles and I join in their laughter. Observing
their teasing interaction, I suddenly miss my brother. Since my arrival, I’ve had
to be careful about communicating with
Cael
. Too many
texts and phone calls and he’d know I’m homesick. Too few and he’d freak out
that something has happened to me.

“So what are you doing today?” Hannah asks, flipping her light
brown hair over her shoulder. “Cory and I are going to bum around the city.
Want to come with?”

I look at my phone and my heart gives a little thump when I
see Sean’s reply. Only a minute more until I see him again. I shake my head.
“Um…I’m hanging out with a friend today. Maybe another time?”

“Definitely,” she says. “How about dinner tomorrow?”

“Sure, sounds like fun.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Cory says, something in his
eyes making my blush reach my cheeks.

Is he flirting with
me?
Should I flirt back?
It’s
been a while since I broke up with my boyfriend and Cory seems like such a nice
guy.

“Ready to go?”

A shiver of pleasure travels down my spine when that deep
voice rasps next to my ear and a huge grin splits my face.

“Sean!” Spinning to face him, I throw my arms around him in
a big hug. Any lingering feelings of anxiety caused by the encounter with Josh
disappear and I close my eyes, drawing in the scent of pine and soap.

Only when I feel his body stiffen do I come to my senses. At
the airport, he didn’t seem comfortable with my spontaneous display of
affection either. Embarrassed, I drop my arms and back away. There’s a moment
of awkwardness before I remember my manners. “Uh…Hannah, this is my friend Sean
Rowan. Sean, Hannah Michaels is one of the new students and this is her
brother, Cory.”

Cory is only a few years younger than Sean, but seeing them
side by side, I can’t help but notice how immature Hannah’s brother looks in
his cap, beer logo t-shirt, and khaki shorts. Sean is dressed in a snug grey
t-shirt and faded jeans that have been washed so many times, they mold easily
to his muscular legs. A low heat builds at the bottom of my belly at the subtle
display of his strength.

Don’t compare every
guy to Sean!
I mentally grimace at the sage advice. If I did that, I’d
never date again.

“Hi! Nice to meet you,” There’s a coquettish note in
Hannah’s voice as she greets Sean and I don’t like the squirmy, dark feeling in
my chest. My
floormate
is tall and pretty, with
flawless skin and long straight hair. Next to her, I look like a leprechaun.

“Likewise.” Sean has a charming smile on his face as he
shakes hands with Hannah and Cory, but there’s a small tic in his cheek that
tells me he’s annoyed by something. After a minute of small talk, he looks at
me and asks again, “Ready to go?”

Distracted by how good he looks, it takes an extra beat for
the question to sink in. “Um…sure.”

“We should head out too. We’ll see you tomorrow, Maggie,”
Cory smiles at me and nods pleasantly at Sean. “Have a good day.”

Hannah flutters her lashes and says, “Nice to meet you,
Sean. Maybe we can all hang out next time.”

Sean smiles, but to my relief, he doesn’t accept the
invitation.

Before the siblings round the corner, Cory gives me a little
wave and I automatically wave back.

“Known them for long?” Sean asks, that tight look still on
his face.

“Nope. Met Hannah last week and Cory just now.” I stuff my
phone into the outside pocket of my messenger bag and start to walk. “They’re
super
friendly.”

“I bet,” he mutters and takes my elbow to guide me in the
other direction.

“Pardon?” I ask, surprised by his sarcasm. He’s not normally
moody and I wonder if he regrets agreeing to spend the day with me. “Um…are you
okay? You don’t have to entertain me if you have something else to do.”

The smile returns to his eyes. God, they’re bluer than the
summer sky. “Of course not. There’s nothing more important than showing you New
York has the best pizza.”

I grin at the challenge in his voice. “Bring it on!”

On the ride, I chatter about my week, telling him about the
new students and classes. He listens patiently, asking a few relevant
questions. We park in a garage near Central Park. I eye the parking prices and
say, “Sean, we should have taken the train. The prices are highway robbery.”

He gives me a funny look and then throws back his head and
laughs.

I fiddle with the strap of my messenger bag and frown at
him. “What?”

I almost swoon when he throws his arm over my shoulders and
hugs me to his side. It takes everything in me not to snuggle into him and
stick my nose into the crook of his neck. He smells so freaking delicious.

“
Nothing,
Freckles. It’s just good
to have you around.”

My insides soften into mush, but I become annoyed when he
continues to chuckle, knowing it’s at my expense. I poke him in the stomach
with my forefinger and almost yelp in pain when it bounces off his hard abs.
The man is ripped. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“You do know my mom left me billions of dollars, right?”

My face reddens. Sean is so down-to-
earth,
I sometimes forget he’s filthy rich. He doesn’t wear expensive clothes or
jewelry. As far as I know, his apartment is the only conspicuous sign of his
wealth. Even his car, while nice, does not reflect how rich he truly is. It’s
to his credit that he doesn’t flaunt his wealth and make others feel
self-conscious about their lack. Although our apartment in Chicago was small
and cramped, he treated it like it was his favorite place to be.

“It doesn’t mean it’s not highway robbery, Mr. Moneybags,” I
mutter defensively.

It is an ingrained habit to be frugal. For all of my
childhood, my family was worried about money. Our mom worked constantly, trying
to make ends meet, but it never seemed to be enough. It always felt like
Cael
and I were outgrowing our clothes or shoes. Hunger
always gnawed on the edges, especially toward the end of the month when we were
waiting for Mom’s next paycheck. Since my brother had to babysit me, he also
couldn’t work a part-time job to help with household expenses.

It wasn’t until
Cael
was recruited
as a running back for the Cleveland Browns that our circumstances changed. My
brother bought us a house in a nicer neighborhood and our mom quit her minimum
wage jobs, but we continued to live modestly. After two years, my brother left
the league and joined the army. I had a feeling he would have enlisted sooner,
but he wanted to make sure my mom and I were financially taken care of. We were
extremely proud of his decision to choose his country over a lucrative career.

Still smiling, Sean says, “You’re right. How about the next
time we go out, we take the subway like real New Yorkers?” he asks and the
surge of elation at the thought of another day—
not date,
I sternly tell myself
—
with
Sean makes me feel lightheaded.

“Okay,” I say, disappointed when he drops his arm to his
side.

Before long, we are following one of the many paths
traversing the park.

“I love Central Park. Chicago has Millennium Park, but it’s
nothing like this,” I say as I watch New Yorkers lounging or playing games on
the grass. It seems everyone is out to enjoy the summer sun. Once we’re further
in the park, I can almost pretend I’m not in the busiest city in the country.
“Ooh…can we go to the Alice in Wonderland sculptures?”

“We can go wherever you want,” he says with indulgent amusement
and steers me down another path.

After a few minutes of silence, I ask tentatively, not
wanting to overstep my bounds, “So how did your mom make so much money?”
Despite the I-have-nothing-to-hide image he projects, Sean doesn’t actually
like to talk about his personal life.

“The old-fashioned way. She inherited it from my
grandfather. Ever heard of Duquesne Shipping?”