It was already ten in the morning when I opened my eyes. Light flooded through the glass doors, touching my skin. Nick was no longer in bed when I turned to his side. I sat up, looking for any sign of him.
The door of the bathroom opened and he appeared with only a towel wrapped around his waist. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, biting my lower lip.
Seriously? Did he have to show me this so early in the morning?
As if I needed a reminder of how hot he actually was. That toned body, those abs—they sent shivers down my spine the first moment I laid eyes on them, even back when I thought I’d never be with a guy. But now, shit! I need a cold shower!
“Good morning,” he greeted.
“Morning,” I greeted back.
He stared at me for a moment, his eyes smoldering, his lips slightly parted as if he was undressing me in his mind.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head and took a deep breath. Then he replied, “My stepfather asked me to meet one of his associates. They needed to consult with me regarding their designs. It was pretty urgent. My father, I mean, stepfather rarely asks me for a favor. So when he does, I can never say no.”
I nodded. “Okay, that’s not a problem.”
“Bee is going shopping. She said she’ll take you.”
I suddenly felt nervous. I would rather stay in bed all alone!
“Uhm, it’s okay. I don’t want to bother her,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
Nick shook his head. “Come on, kitten. I feel bad dragging you all the way here and then leaving you all of a sudden. If this wasn’t important to my father, I would have said no.”
I smiled at him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to feel bad about it. I’ll be fine. I’ll wait for you to get back.”
Nick shook his head. “No. Go change. Bee will be waiting for you downstairs.”
I really didn’t want to go, but I saw frustration on Nick’s face and I didn’t want him to feel guiltier than he already was so I nodded. One day with Beatrice wouldn’t hurt, I guess. Perhaps, I could use this chance to make Beatrice change her opinion of me. She will forever be Team Margot, but at least, she wouldn’t hate me too much.
Argh! What if Beatrice was a total bitch? What if no matter what I say or do to bond with her, nothing would change because she had already written me off? What if she was one of those monster sisters I read about, who have narcissistic personality disorders?
These people lie. They lie to make themselves look good and make others look the opposite. They lie to destroy years, even decades of friendships. They are expert manipulators. They often appear friendly, overly helpful, sympathetic, and charming. They do anything to get others to like them, so people accept them into a group—even at the expense of their family.
It’s difficult when the sister of your boyfriend is a total bitch! And it happens. Not many women have good relationships with their sisters-in-law. Because sometimes no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, the sister just can’t accept you.
They see you as a competition for everything: her parents’ attention, her brother’s affection. They hate it when you succeed because she will always feel as though you’re casting a shadow over her. She has to be the star of the show. She will envy everything that you have and will never be sincerely happy for you. She will appear nice but when given the chance, she’ll twist the truth just to destroy you.
And sometimes, it’s not even your fault. This can be a result of sibling rivalry that developed to adult envy. She’s been forever competing with her brother. And when you come into the picture, she’s pegged you for a target instead. Even if you do everything for her, care for her, and try to earn her friendship, she will always find ways to make you look bad and destroy you. Some will even make themselves look like a victim just to turn people against you.
Shit! I hope Beatrice isn’t like that! And this was not the time to psycho-analyze Beatrice. I have known her for a short time; I shouldn’t be paranoid about her attitude.
I stood up from the bed to head for the shower. Nick pulled me by the arm. I turned to him, staring at his face.
He looked as if he wanted to say a lot of things, but all he said was, “We’ll talk tonight, okay?”
I nodded. A deep part of my heart felt heavy as lead. Whatever he’ll say to me tonight, that’s it. I will accept it whole-heartedly. And I will hold no grudge against him. I will respect his decision no matter what. Hopefully, we’ll still remain friends.
I owed Nick a lot. He protected me when I was in danger. He was there for me when I had no one. And he helped me find myself, when I didn’t even know I was lost all these years.
When I came down from the room, Nick had already left. I was greeted by Nick’s mother at the bottom of the stairs.
“Good morning, dear. How’s your sleep?”
“Great, ma’am. You have a wonderful home,” I said politely.
“Sorry that my son had to run off. My husband needed him desperately. An old friend of his wanted advice on a property he was building. Nick is the only one my husband trusted to provide expert opinion,” Mrs. Maguire said.
“I’m sure he is. And it’s no problem at all. He told me that Beatrice will go shopping and I could tag along.”
Mrs. Maguire suddenly had a confused expression on her face. “But Bea just left with Margot. They were going to Westfield. I didn’t know you were supposed to go with them.”
I stopped for a moment, taking in what she just said. Well, I shouldn’t really expect much from Beatrice. She was Team Margot and the new girl his brother brought home to sleep in his bed wasn’t a threat to Margot and Nick’s reconciliation—she was one big obstacle. So I couldn’t really blame her for leaving me behind.
“They’re preparing for a huge party tonight. They have been planning this trip all week.”
I smiled at her. “It’s okay. I’m not much of a shopper; I wouldn’t want to be in their way.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I’m preparing for a small luncheon for tomorrow. If you don’t mind excusing me, too. I’d check up on you after a couple of hours. I’ll be stuck in the kitchen all day, I’m afraid. But you feel free to go around the house or swim in the pool. Just call me if you need something.”
“Luncheon?” I asked.
Mrs. Maguire smiled. “Oh yes. Nick hadn’t been home in a long time. I was planning to surprise him tomorrow. But don’t tell him, okay?”
“You’re cooking for Nick?”
“Yes. He’s not a fan of catering. He prefers home-made food.”
I smiled at her. “I’m not doing anything until Nick comes back. I can help.”
She looked at me, quite surprised. “Are—are you any good in the kitchen?”
I wanted to tell her how I was told by her son that I was more than good, but instead I said, “I’m no stranger there, I can assure you.”
Nick’s mother gave me a bright smile. “Then come along. I actually need all the help I can get. Beatrice is hopeless in the kitchen and Margot seemed to have learned about knives and ladles only a few weeks ago. So, you’re welcome to help.”
I spent the whole morning dicing and slicing the ingredients for Nick’s mother. It seemed she really enjoyed cooking for her family.
She asked me if I could prepare the sauce to glaze her meatloaf.
“You want it sweet, spicy, or salty?” I asked.
She looked at me for a moment and from the expression on her face, I could tell she was debating with herself what she would like.
“If it’s for Nick, I’ll try something,” I volunteered.
She smiled at me in relief.
I prepared something sweet, salty and a little bit sour. I’ve prepared this sauce before and I knew Nick went crazy over it. When I was done, I asked Mrs. Maguire to taste it to see if it was good enough for her.
She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them again, it was as if she was looking at me with different eyes.
“Oh my God! When I was watching you slicing, I could tell you spend a lot of time cooking. But now with this… are you sure you’re not a chef?”
I laughed. “Nick’s been pestering me to give it a try.”
“What else can you cook? I’m sorry, but now I’m not letting you get out of this kitchen until we’re done. I was afraid to admit it to my family, but I can’t cook all of these on my own. But now that you’re here, I will not hesitate to ask you for help.”
“I’m here all day, ma’am,” I said happily. “What else is on the menu?”
All day, I helped Nick’s mom cook. We made trifles, pies, lasagna, tarts, pudding, and of course the beef medallions. I made the medallions exactly how Nick loved them.
Time flew, and I was enjoying myself. Mrs. Maguire and I were chatting about everything under the sun. It turned out she was always alone in the house with her husband working, Blaze and Beatrice are always out and Nick being in the States. She was happy that for once, she was in the kitchen, cooking and chatting with another person who wasn’t on their payroll.
I didn’t realize that it was already three in the afternoon when we finished everything. We’ve been cooking for five straight hours and I didn’t notice the hours flying by.
Mrs. Maguire couldn’t believe that we finished everything at three in the afternoon.
“I thought I was going to be here until one in the morning,” she said, relief evident in her voice. “You should be a chef! And if you open your own restaurant, I will be eating there every day.”
“All done?” somebody said by the door of the kitchen.
I turned around and saw a handsome man who was the spitting image of Blaze, only older. No doubt, this was Nick’s stepfather.
“Yes, I cannot believe it, too! Mackenzie is a genius in the kitchen! You should taste the dishes she cooked.”
The man approached us and offered his hand to me. “Brad Maguire,” he said.
I shook his hand. “Mackenzie Clarke. Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
Beatrice and Margot entered the kitchen. They looked at the dishes, the kitchen countertop, me and Mrs. Maguire, and they realized what I have been doing while they left me behind.
“Bea, you were supposed to take Mackenzie with you.” There was a hint of disapproval in Mrs. Maguire’s voice. Bea looked as if she wanted to say something but chose to be quiet instead.
“It’s okay,” I said, smiling brightly. “I hate shopping.”
Mr. Maguire gave me a shocked expression. Then he said, “I hope my daughter and my wife would say the same.”
Mrs. Maguire playfully threw a ball of tissue at him. Then she turned to me. “Well, I can’t say I was sorry about it. If you went with them, I’d still be here preparing all these by myself,” Mrs. Maguire said. Then she turned to her husband. “You should taste this, darling.” She gave him one of the tarts I made.
Mr. Maguire took a bite and I saw approval written all over his face. “You should be a chef,” he said to me. “Seriously, I haven’t had tart this good in years.” He put the rest of the tart in his mouth, savoring it.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, smiling at him. Behind him, I could see Margot turning red. I could only guess that it was out of anger or annoyance. She and Beatrice must have left me on purpose after promising Nick they would take care of me. Now, I guessed their plans backfired.
“Your parents own a restaurant?” Mr. Maguire asked, taking another tart from the tray.
I shook my head. “My mother wanted to be a chef. But she passed away before she could realize her dream.”
“Your name sounds really familiar, like I heard it before.” He looked thoughtful for a while. Then he said, “Oh, my mistake. I was thinking of a hotel’s name. Marie Clarke Estates.”
I stood there in silence for a while. Suddenly, I felt my heart twisting at the painful memories I still have. For the mother I lost, and her partner, who raised me like her own.
“Are you okay?” Mrs. Maguire asked, suddenly concerned.
I took a deep breath and replied, “Marie Clarke was my mother.”
That hotel was built decades ago. It was probably built around the time my father was so in love with my mother.
“Your father is Robert Clarke?” Mr. Maguire asked. He sounded impressed. I know. My father was well-known in the business world. He was a powerful hotelier with spotless reputation in the corporate community. But only Nick and I knew what a monster he really was.
Reluctantly, I nodded.
“I only met your father once, many years ago. Good bloke. He had a good head on his shoulders. He really knows his game,” Mr. Maguire said.
That was true. Robert Clarke knew the rules of the game in the corporate world. I wish he also knew how to be a good father too.
“I guess you’ll be inheriting his position since I reckon you were his only child.”
I smiled at Mr. Maguire, trying my best not to give a hint that I have a broken relationship with my father. “We haven’t discussed that. Besides, he has a brother who also knew the name of the game and he has a son. I would be happy to turn it all over to my cousin.” True. I love Brett. And I would gladly hand him the inheritance I didn’t want.
“Well, if you aren’t interested in running your chain of hotels, then you could always start your own chain of restaurants. I’m sure you will make a name of your own,” Mr. Maguire said, taking another tart from the tray. “These are seriously amazing.” Then he turned to Mrs. Maguire. “What are you going to tell your son? If he tastes all this food, he will never believe you cooked it.”
Mrs. Maguire laughed. “I’m sure he’s familiar with Mackenzie’s cooking; he’ll know immediately no matter what I claim.”
“You don’t have to tell him,” I said. “You’ll only give him more reason to keep convincing me about opening up my own restaurant.”
“Well, I think you should listen to him,” Mrs. Maguire said. Then she turned to her husband. “Where is he anyway?”
“He still needed to go over Michael’s building designs. He was being charged by his contractors some serious amount of money and he needed Nick to look into things before he signs off the project. He will be there for a few more hours, I think.”
“But there’s another place that we needed to go to,” Beatrice spoke up for the first time since she and Margot walked into the kitchen.
“He called me,” Blaze said, suddenly appearing at the door. “He said he’ll meet us there since he’ll still be a while with Mr. Johnson. And he was expecting you to bring Mackenzie with you over at Tyler’s since you spent the whole day together, right?”
Blaze smiled at Beatrice innocently, but I could see the mischief behind his smile.
Beatrice looked at me guiltily. “Yeah, I guess. You should get ready, Mackenzie. We’ll meet you at the front door in about an hour. We’ll all go to Tyler’s bar. Big party tonight. It will be fun. Blaze and his band are playing.”
It didn’t look as if she had the intention of telling me about this party at all before Blaze mentioned it.
“Oh, okay. What type of bar is it? What should I wear?”
Beatrice and Margot looked at each other for a moment and then Margot replied, “Anything that makes you comfortable. It’s a casual bar. Just old friends meeting up.”
I nodded and gave her a smile. Then I turned to Mr. and Mrs. Maguire. “I guess I should get ready.”
“Well, thank you,” Mrs. Maguire said. “I couldn’t have done this without you.” She reached forward and gave me a hug that felt warm and genuine. I couldn’t help remembering my own mother. If only she were still alive to appreciate how good I became in the kitchen. I blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall.
I ran upstairs to Nick’s room and quickly hopped in the shower. I took a longer time to make sure I removed all the smell of food on me. I knew that Beatrice and Margot deliberately left me behind. They probably made sure I’d be in the house with Nick’s mother, to be under her scrutiny as she did seem like a perfectionist. If it was a test, I was so happy I passed that with flying colors. Margot didn’t seem happy at all. The better impression I made in this family, the narrower her chances of getting back together with Nick.
I blow-dried my hair and combed it in place. Before I flew to London, I had visited Leon with Terry. Leon had given me a layered, rounded bob cut with long side bangs. I was glad I had my hair done since there was a long-haired siren out for Nick’s attention.
I looked inside my bag and found that in spite of my protests, Terry packed me a bathing suit. There was also a chiffon halter neck dress in red orange, orange and light orange gradation, with a light orange chiffon ribbon around the waist. I would have berated her but then I thought, I could wear this for tomorrow’s event. Assuming Nick does not send me packing tonight after our talk.
I wore a pair of white capri pants, white cropped shirt, and a blue jacket. Then I wore a pair of white Stan Smith sneakers with blue accents.
I waited for Beatrice and Margot at the bottom of the stairs. When they emerged from their room, I saw that their hair was neatly braided and they were fully made up with bloody red lipstick. Beatrice was wearing a long off-shoulder dress that hugged her body to perfection. Margot was wearing a strapless tight top, a blue floral skirt that ended a couple of inches above her knees, and blue stiletto sandals. They did not look casual at all and suddenly, I felt so underdressed.
I felt like there’s something that they weren’t telling me. Like they’re cooking up something against me.
But what?