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My heels click on the tiled floor as I throw my shoulders back and hold my head high. It’s all in an effort to convey confidence, but it’s certainly the opposite of how I feel. My knees feel shaky and my palms are sweaty. If I’m going to greet these men, I can’t offer them a sweaty handshake. I wipe my palms against the fabric of my dress and look in the men’s direction.
Idiot,I think.They arenotthe handshaking type.
All three of the men are staring at me and I feel my heart pounding in my chest. I can’t just look away, pretend like I don’t see them. It would be rude. And didn’t I come over here to say hello, anyway? In what, I now realize, was in a moment of fantastically misguided bravery.
The Adonis is smiling at me again and I can see that the tall man’s eyes are a stunning shade of green. The hulk of a man is staring at me intensely, but I can’t read the expression on his sculpted face. I watch as he clenches his jaw, and it’s enough for me to chicken out completely.
I don’t know what I was thinking, as if I could actually come over here and speak to these intimidating men. Me. A little church mouse, albeit one that never fits in exactly as the reverend thinks she should.
I’ve almost reached the heavy wooden doors when the sudden movement of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome catches me off guard. He simply takes a step to swing open the door for me, like a gentleman, but that’s all it takes for me to lose concentration and stumble in my high heels. At first, my ankle wobbles, and I believe that I’ll be able to catch myself instead of performing a spectacular face-plant in front of this audience. But my body leans too far, aclassic mistake of over-correction, and in a flash, I’m toppling over to land on the tiled floor with a thud.
“Oh!” I exclaim, one hand immediately moving to the hem of my skirt to ensure that my modesty is maintained. My other hand pushes my body upright and my skin feels hot with embarrassment. I’m not ready to show my face when there’s a firm grip underneath my elbow and it feels like a jolt of electricity.
“Are you okay?”
When I lift my head, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome is holding onto my arm instead of holding the door open. I notice the flecks of gold in his green eyes, which are staring at me in concern.
“Oh, I’m fine,” I manage in a choked voice, and the man helps me to my feet. Before I pull away, I catch a hint of the smell of leather.
“Are you sure?” The Adonis asks. His lips curl into a small smile as if he’s amused now that he realizes that I’m not hurt.
Before I can reply, my father has appeared right behind me.
“Are you all right, Marigold?” My father’s voice sounds caring, but when I turn around and gaze into his eyes, I see the annoyance that resides there.
“I’m fine,” I mumble, wishing that I could sink into the floor. Now would make a fine time to disappear.
Instead, I stand there, shifting from one foot to another, waiting for my father to perform his usual act. Introductions, welcome to the church, the whole nine yards. Even if these guys look like sinners, I’m sure their money is still good. At least, my father always says so.
The Reverend Earl Bennett says nothing. His eyes move over each of the strange, dangerous-looking men in turn, but his face remains expressionless. I notice a bead of sweat forms along his brow.
“Why don’t you head on home now?” My father’s deep voice crashes the moment of silence. He’s still not looking at me and it seems that time is moving in slow motion. The atmosphere haschanged, and the air is thick with tension. When I glance over at the men, their expressions have darkened.
I'm not sure what's going on here, but I am certain that my father is getting distracted. I’m going to take advantage of it.
“Can I spend the night at Bianca’s?” I ask quickly, seizing the moment. Bianca is my best friend and I’m lucky that my father approves of her, which is only because she comes from a family of high standing in our church. He normally doesn’t approve of sleepovers, though, and after the Wednesday evening service that I’ve sat through, I need to dish with my best friend.
“Yes,” My father replies, still staring at the men.
My calculations were correct, but now is not the time for gloating. I take one last look around the sanctuary. Loretta is still blabbing to the last parishioner and my father and the men haven’t moved one muscle. For the last time, my eyes rove over the men’s bodies. I want to remember the way they look, for later.
“Okay. Bye.” I take a step towards the door, but the tall man is faster. He grabs the door handle and swings it open for me.
I’m almost afraid to look at him. I’m sure that my skin is a fabulous shade of pink. But I glance up at him when I walk through the door, ready to whisper a quiet thanks. His lips turn up into a small smile and his green eyes twinkle. I lose all capability for speech when he gives me a little wink.
But I manage to keep walking out of the sanctuary, and the door slams closed with a bang behind me.
Chapter 2
Marigold
Bianca’s house is the largest in our gated subdivision. Even after all these years, I’m still intimidated when I walk up the grand front steps and stand face-to-face with the ornate carved-wood double front door. I take a slow, deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, before I press my index finger against the glowing golden button for the doorbell. The door opens swiftly, and the housekeeper ushers me inside.
“Marigold,” Florence smiles. I notice her eyes crease around the corners much more than they used to, but they’re still just as kind. She’s like a second mother to Bianca, having worked in their home for as long as I’ve known her. When I do the math in my head, I can’t believe it’s been almost eighteen years.
“Florence, how are you?” I reach around her neck for a hug and Florence squeezes me right back. When we let go, she quickly looks around to make sure that we’re alone before catching up. Bianca’s parents fancy themselves as lord and lady. They don’t want anyone “fraternizing with the help.”
A few moments later, there’s the faint tinkling of a bell that is summoning Florence to the kitchen. She kisses me on the cheek before scurrying away, and I head up the white marble staircase to Bianca’s room.
