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“Whatever. My point is, you’re there to sort out your sister’s shit, so do that then hurry home to me, but don’t go making yourself miserable why you’re there. Hit the beach. Salivate over the eye candy dangling right in front of you. Make the best of it.”
“Careful. You almost sounded like my mother. Can we stop talking about him now? What about Meg?”
“I knew her less than you did, and you didn’t know her at all. If you wanna know anything about your sister, you’ll have to find a way to ask Alaric.”
I groaned. “I think that may be easier said than done. He shuts down almost every time I bring her up.”
“Well, if they had separate rooms things couldn’t have been all peaches and cream between them. It’s probably a sore subject.”
“Yeah. You’re right.”
A spicket came on from her end of the phone. “I gotta start getting ready for work, text me though. K?”
“Alright, thanks for listening to me bitch.”
“Anytime,” she laughed.
I ended the call then tossed my cell down beside me. I felt a bit out of sorts, and not simply because I was in a strange new place, but because of the man who lived there. I didn’t know what to make of him or the way he made me feel with a simple look.
The past few days had been filled with more excitement than I’d had in over a year. This wasn’t a good thing—not for me. I stretched my arms above my head and got off the bed.
Maybe after a shower my head would be a little clearer.
I couldn’t take anymore.
Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I surveyed all the boxes I had yet to open. Of about fifteen, I’d gotten through four. I hadn’t discovered anything interesting and I knew no more about my sister than I had before arriving here.
I lied.
I’d come to realize that Alaric and Meg may not have been on the best terms, but she and his bank account got along just fine.
Of the boxes I’d gotten to, three were filled with designer purses. One was just bags of vacuum sealed heels.
The shoe thing I could understand. I knew some women loved to switch things up daily, but who the hell needed so many handbags? I only had two.
I stood from my spot on the floor, arching my back to loosen some kinks. It’d taken me forty-five minutes to accomplish this meager amount of progress. I had emptied every box and peeked inside each purse to make sure nothing important would be donated or sold to whoever ended up with Meg’s things. I think I deserved a break.
I surveyed the room before leaving, retallying the boxes that remained just to be sure. The space was so impersonal. There weren’t any feminine touches or signs someone had ever actually slept in here.
As I made my way down to the kitchen, I kept an eye out for any pictures of Meg on the walls. There weren’t any—of anyone, not just her. Only more of the same from what to be a costly collection.
Stopping to examine the image at the top of the stairs. Seeing it again had me thinking of Alaric’s comments from the previous day.
He said art and insanity went hand in hand, but there was something to be said about a man who found beauty within it and the woman that agreed with him. Pulling my gaze from the erotic painting, I continued down the stairs. If not for the waves rolling in the nearby ocean, there would be absolute stillness inside the large house. I wasn’t used to it.
Back home I had Hamtaro and the steady flow of traffic a few feet outside my front door.
All Alaric had was the sea.
Such a stark contrast, one that I could see growing on me. Knowing I would never have the companionship so many others were fortunate to find--having issues forging new relationships in general, I’d become a fan of solitude. Where others may find anguish in being alone, I found an escape.
It was hard to imagine Meg living here in such a way. I got the feeling; we were complete opposites in our interests just as were in looks. Meg was Caucasian and had cherry blonde hair. I couldn’t say what her body looked like, but I knew she was smaller than I was and clearly liked to shop. She probably enjoyed being social as well.
In the kitchen, I dug through the fridge, finding a small block of cheese, a bag of apples, and some carrots.
I pulled everything out and used them to make a small platter, adding a cold glass of water. It wasn’t until I was done eating and had finished cleaning up my mess that my curiosity returned to the basement door.
I didn’t see the correlation in Alaric wanting seclusion to work and being a surgeon. I reached out and touched the door. The tempered glass was thick, cool too. Cooler than the rest of the house. Leaning a little closer, I examined what I thought was a thermostat the night before, now seeing it wasn’t.
