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“What about them?” Tom tilts his head to a side, those blue eyes calm.

I sigh, noting that I need to be more direct in order to make this a productive conversation.

Before I can proceed, there’s a light knocking at the door – it’s one of the butlers signaling that dinner is ready. With a dismissive wave, Tom indicates to the older man that we’re not ready to head in just yet.

Like his brother, Gabe also sits down and gestures for me to do so as well. I comply.

“It sounds like the three of us need to have a candid talk about our situation,” he says. “Would that make you happy, sweetheart?”

I let out a whoosh of breath and nod gratefully.

“Yes, and thank you,” I murmur. “I’d appreciate it.”

But will the Costas brothers appreciate what I have to say? Or will I alienate them, and make this my last day at the manor? The only thing to do is to be open and forthright, and with a deep breath, I begin.12TomI watch Michelle carefully as she fidgets in the chair next to me. She’s breathing hard, and her cheeks are flushed. Of course, it only makes her look more beautiful in the tight, low-cut cocktail dress she has on. We’re so lucky to have her, and I share a look with my brother. What could have our gorgeous girl in such a tizzy?

I wait patiently, knowing that if we don’t clear the air, Michelle, Gabriel, and I will never move forward, although to be frank, I’m not sure what that means either.

Finally, Michelle looks ready to speak. She bites her lip and smiles hesitantly at us.

“Well, I’m just not sure that my life should be one of total luxury. I mean, I appreciate it,” she says quickly, “but I never thought that I’d accomplish nothing.”

“You are accomplishing a lot,” my brother interrupts in a low voice. “You’re being with us, and satisfying two men.”

She blushes prettily.

“I know, but it’s not a profession, at least not in the normal sense.”

I nod carefully.

“Is that what you want? A career with a big company?”

She shakes her head.

“No, not exactly. I don’t know what a regular career looks like anymore. I wasn’t hugely successful being a lawyer, and could barely even manage to pay my bills. But I have to think that that was an aberration because I still enjoy reading and writing. When I was a kid, I always loved letting my creativity flow, and in fact, I wrote my first novel when I was in third grade. It was about a dog named Fred. I’m sure it wasn’t anything special but it was sort of my first inkling that I wanted to go to college and study. Maybe even study writing.”

She looks down at her hands, perhaps to prepare herself for the next part of the story. I reach across the chair and lay my own hand on top of hers, hoping to express that my brother and I are listening and that we care. The gesture seems to work because Michelle continues talking, still staring at her hands.

“My parents didn’t go to college. And I don’t think there’s any shame in that, not at all. But they didn’t really get why I wanted to go either. Especially to be a writer.” Michelle sniffles a little, and I have the urge to scoop her up close. Instead, I keep my hand resting on hers and squeeze gently.

Across from us, Gabriel speaks up. “It’s hard when parents don’t understand your dreams,” he offers thoughtfully.

Michelle looks at him and nods. “Well, especially because they wanted me to get a job and help out with bills, and not go into any kind of debt.”

Now it’s my turn to nod. “It can seem risky, those kinds of changes.”

“Of course,” Michelle agrees. “But even when I told them that I wanted to go to law school, they refused to support me.”

“Why did you decide to go to law school?” I ask, curious. “Was there a character in one of your books who was a lawyer?”

Michelle laughs a little.

“No. I was inspired after I defended Stacy Cunnings in the fifth grade.”

Gabriel and I exchange a quick look. “What was that about, sweetheart?” I ask. “Were you her champion?”

Michelle nods.

“Yeah. There was this kid at school who kept picking on her. And she and I weren’t even really friends, but I was just so tired of this punk messing with her. Apparently, this boy had done Stacy some favor and now he was making her pay him back, but the repayment did not fit the favor, let’s just put it that way.”

Michelle shrugs. “So I offered to be her legal representation. I mean, I was ten, and I had no idea what I was doing but I’d watched enough law shows on TV that I was able to fudge some legal jargon. Scared the crap out of that bully and Stacy was finally free.”

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