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Her auburn hair is cascading in curls over her shoulders, and she looks ethereal.
Evan gets up and approaches her first. “My, my, what do we have here? You look absolutely dazzling, Meg,” he says, kissing her cheek.
She walks tentatively into the room and eyes each of us separately. I know she remembers the other night and what that meant to us.
We were all feeling it. There were sparks and connections flying every which way. The question is, who does she feel that the strongest with?
I determine that it’s my time to make my move. It’s now or never. Either I’m going to get ahead this night or I’ll fall behind and will never be able to catch up.
I take the scotch I just poured for myself and walk over to offer it to her.
I kiss her on the cheek and offer her my drink. “For you. Don’t you look lovely? I’ve missed seeing you, Meg.”
Her eyes lock into mine, and for several seconds, it’s like we’re the only two people in the room. She takes the glass that’s now covered in condensation up to her lips and drinks deeply from it.
She doesn’t even flinch at the taste of the harsh liquid. She’s got her poker face on, and so do I.
“Hi, Paul, is it?” she asks.
She has some courage to pretend to forget my name. I know she remembers it, and I know she’s just toying with me. It’s a game that I enjoy but will definitely win at.
I take her hand and kiss her softly, “It’s Paul. Paul Richardson. How could you forget?”
She blushes at my statement, catching her in her lie, and I revel in the moment. Before my brothers have a chance to interject themselves, I offer her a chair and quickly take the seat next to hers.
Now I have her ear for the rest of the night. Of that you can be sure.
My brothers join us around the table, and we all make a toast.
Matt does the honors, and he says, “In memory of our father and of all the family dinners we’ve had at this table together. And also to our new guest, Meg. May she feel as welcome as ever.”
Meg delights in the attention, but she also seems like she feels awkward and uncomfortable. I don’t doubt as to why. My brothers and I are a lot to take, especially for one woman.
There’s a lot of testosterone flowing in this room, and she’s the only feminine energy for us to focus on. She’s definitely worth it. She gets more beautiful by the second.
Dinner is served, and it’s exquisite. My brothers and I chat with Meg, each of us sizing each other up, trying to determine who has the best chance of winning her heart, at least for the evening.
“So, Meg,” Ian is saying, “Where did you attend school?”
“Me? Oh, I went to Dartmouth College. I had always wanted to go there ever since high school, and I got in, so that’s the story with that.”
She doesn’t seem to like being in the spotlight. And I don’t blame her. With four masculine, carnal energies coming at her, it must be a lot to deal with.
“Isn’t that interesting,” I say. “Each of us has gone to an Ivy League school. I personally attended Harvard, Ian went to Yale, and Matt and Evan both went to Princeton.”
I know my brothers and I are all wondering how it came to be that Meg went to Dartmouth and yet she’s serving us as a maid.
It’s a question I put out of my mind as I listen in to what Meg is saying about her life.
“I grew up in California and have always wanted to come to the East Coast. So I came to New York City directly after school. I worked as an intern for a while, and then I developed a relationship, and that kind of took up all my time. We’re breaking up, broken up, I mean. We’re done with pretty much.”
We’re all ears at the mention of a boyfriend. There better not be a boyfriend in the picture with her. I’m happy to hear that they’re broken up or are on their way to getting there.
Whatever their status is, I don’t care. I will have Meg as my own.
“This veal is exemplary,” Matt says.
“It is, isn’t it?” I say privately to Meg over her shoulder.
