The Summer Of Sunshine And Margot

She still couldn’t believe she was going to live there. Everything about the glorious old structure appealed to her. She was going to check with her host and get permission to do some exploring. And the garden! The little she’d seen of it was magical.

After cleaning out the refrigerator and double-checking that all the faucets were turned off, Margot loaded her car with two suitcases, a briefcase and a couple of boxes. She was bringing her printer, along with a box of books that might be useful. She made sure the front door was locked, then drove toward the old section of Pasadena, heading north into the foothills.

Once again she pulled into the driveway and stopped in front of the impressive gates that kept out the world. She smiled as she pressed the button on the panel, thinking there should be a secret password.

“It’s Margot Baxter,” she said.

“Right on time,” an unfamiliar woman said. “Come on in and we’ll get you settled.”

Margot waited for the gates to swing open before driving to one of the parking spaces. Before she’d had a chance to get out of her car, the front door opened and a middle-aged woman walked toward her, pulling a utility cart behind her.

“You must be Margot,” the woman said, holding out her hand. “I’m Edna Stojicic, Alec’s housekeeper. He told me why you were here. I think we’re all in for an interesting time.”

Edna wore a simple short-sleeved green blouse over black pants. Her dark hair was short, her eyes brown. She looked sensible and competent, with a friendly smile that made Margot feel welcome.

Edna motioned to the cart. “To help with the unloading process.”

Together they emptied the trunk and backseat. Margot wheeled one of her suitcases toward the house while Edna pushed the loaded cart. When they reached the front door, Edna pointed to the keypad by the handle.

“This is how you’ll come and go from the house. Your six-digit code is in your bedroom. I’ve also left you a clicker for the front gate. There’s a security system, but it’s more about monitoring than alarms. There’s no setting it or turning it off.” She chuckled. “It’s always watching, so no dancing naked in the halls.”

“Not really my thing,” Margot murmured, then wondered if that was a problem with Bianca. Oh well, she’d known the job would be challenging when she took it.

Once they were inside, they left everything by the front door while Edna took her on a tour of the house. To the right of the foyer was the huge kitchen. Margot saw every appliance known to man and some she didn’t recognize.

“My staff and I clean on a schedule,” Edna told her. “Alec prefers to know where we’re going to be on any given day. You’ll find that information up in your bedroom, as well. Scholars come and go, studying the old documents Alec collects. They keep to themselves and won’t bother you. Let’s see. What else? Ah, meals. A chef is here by six every morning. There’s a hot breakfast put out in the dining room at six-thirty. We take it away at eight. You can eat there, or take your meals to your room.”

“I’ll be taking them to my room.”

“I’ll let everyone know so there’s a tray left out for you.” She pointed to the refrigerator. “Help yourself to anything in there. There’s a big freezer in the pantry, along with plenty of other supplies. Again, take what you’d like. If you use the last of something, there’s a grocery list on the counter in the pantry.”

Edna led the way to the formal living room with twenty-foot ceilings. The woodwork was incredible, as were the statues along the east wall. Margot would guess they were original, left behind when the monastery was decommissioned or whatever it was called when a church was no longer sacred.

She saw the staircase leading to the second floor and beyond that a media room with a huge sectional sofa and massive TV mounted on the wall.

“You’re welcome to use this anytime,” Edna told her. “The remotes are in the coffee table drawers, as are instructions on how to make it all work.”

She pointed to a set of double doors just beyond the media room. “That’s Alec’s private suite. Best not be going in there.”

“Of course not.”

They walked back the way they’d come. There was a second staircase, far less grand, going into the basement.

“There’s an old root cellar and some musty rooms down there,” Edna told her. “A portion of it has been converted into a wine cellar.”

They stepped outside to the covered walkway that ran the length of the house. The cloisters, Margot thought. Was that the right term? She would have to look it up.

They passed Alec’s office and then went back inside. Edna showed her two archive rooms and a file room where hundreds of ancient documents were stored. At the far end of the hall was a small chapel.

There were beautiful stained glass windows lining two walls, along with wooden pews.

“It’s all original,” Edna said proudly. “Alec’s great-uncle bought the place in the 1930s and started converting it to a private residence. When Alec inherited the property, he updated much of it but they both wanted to leave the chapel in place.”

They walked back to the pile of luggage at the front door and carried the first load to the second floor. The landing at the top of the stairs opened up to a large lounge area. It was furnished with a couple of sofas, a big desk against the far wall, a TV, a small refrigerator and a microwave.

“Much more my speed,” Margot joked as she glanced around.

“The guest lounge. You’re welcome to use this, as well.” Edna winked. “I agree. It’s nice up here and a lot less complicated than anything in the media room.”

Margot followed her to a pleasant guest room with an attached bath. The walls were a pale gray and the queen-size bed looked comfortable.

“This is perfect. Thank you. I’ll set up my computer and training materials in the lounge.”

“Bianca’s room is at the end of the hall. It’s the bigger guest room.” Edna’s tone was apologetic.

“Not to worry. I have everything I need.”

They carried up the rest of her luggage.

“Is there anything else before I leave you to get settled?” Edna asked.

Margot had seen the Wi-Fi password next to her door entry code and the clicker for the gate, so she had that. Honestly, this was the most organized household she’d ever been a part of. She was impressed.

“I’d love to explore,” she said. “What are the ground rules?”

“Stay out of Alec’s study and bedroom and don’t disrupt his routine. Otherwise, go where you’d like. Oh, don’t touch any of the old papers. Most of them are kept safely away, but if it’s paper and it looks ancient, don’t touch it. Alec does love his musty old scraps.”

Edna thought for a second. “The cleaners will be taking care of your room on the days listed, so don’t worry about changing your sheets or washing towels. You can do your personal laundry in the utility room in the basement. You’ll see Borys around. He maintains the place, especially the wood. He has a few people who help him with big projects but he does all the woodwork himself.”

“I would imagine it takes a village to keep a place like this running. But what an amazing house. I’m looking forward to admiring it all.”

“Good. Make yourself at home.” Edna pointed to the papers on the dresser. “My cell number is there, if you need to reach me.”

“Thank you.”

Margot quickly unpacked her clothes. The closet was large and well organized and she had more space than she needed.

She set up her laptop and printer in the lounge, along with the books she’d brought. She’d already put together a preliminary workbook for Bianca, which may or may not be something her client was interested in. Still, she would give it a shot. Everyone was different and Margot did her best to accommodate individual learning styles.

She’d also downloaded a fair amount of research on Cardigania. She’d learned the basic history of the country, the size of the population and which industries provided the most revenue. She knew that Cardiganian wool was famous for being both soft and durable and that their chocolate rivaled the best from Switzerland—but there was more to glean from the country’s rich history.

Margot had also done a little more study on Bianca’s past. Once she’d accepted the job, she’d requested a detailed background check on her new client. Not that she was expecting to find a couple of felonies or anything earth-shattering, but it was always good to have more information, rather than less.

By four-thirty, she was settled and ready to begin her job in the morning, which meant it was definitely time to start exploring.

Chapter Four

Alec Mcnicol did not like having people stay in his house. When visiting scholars came to study any of the ancient texts, they worked in one of the archive rooms during the day, then retreated to a hotel at night. The same with the household staff. Edna Stojicic, his very sensible housekeeper, brought a team of cleaners to tend to the large building and worked her magic in the kitchen before disappearing long before 5:00 p.m. There were weeks he never saw her at all. The gardeners rarely needed to speak to him and he communicated with Borys, the full-time woodworker/handyman the old Spanish building required, via text.

On a good day, Alec saw no one, spoke to no one, and that was how he preferred things. He loved his life just as it was. His routine was predictable and that made him happy. Only now he was not dealing only with his mother—there was a stranger to contend with.

At least Margot appeared to be a restful sort of person. She wasn’t loud or garish, nor did she seem the type to always want his attention. Even now, as she moved her things into one of the guest rooms upstairs, he couldn’t hear her at all. Of course, given the solid construction of the monastery, she could be rehearsing with a rock band and if the door was closed, he wouldn’t hear her. The thought made him smile. The smile retreated when someone knocked on his half-closed door.

“Yes?” he called, hoping against hope it wasn’t Bianca come to discuss how he should create a turtle refuge in his backyard, or help her with an application to join SETI. With his mother, one never really knew what to expect.

He was relieved to find Margot in the cloisters hallway, only this was a different Margot than the businesswoman he’d met the previous week. Gone were the sensible glasses, the gray suit, the plain black pumps. Instead she wore dark jeans and a deep purple twinset. As before, her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but unlike last time, her face didn’t have on a lick of makeup.

He could see freckles on her nose and a soft, natural color staining her cheeks. She looked young and impossibly beautiful. With breasts.

He drew in a breath. What in God’s name was wrong with him? He never noticed breasts or any other part of a woman. He wasn’t visual and he certainly didn’t think about size or shape or nipples. Yet thoughts of all three were firmly stuck in his brain. His mother’s trainer, or whatever it was he was supposed to call Margot, had breasts and he had acknowledged them. Only to himself, but still. It was a calamity.

“Hi,” Margot said with a smile. “I just wanted to take a second and tell you I’ve moved in. Edna showed me around. You have a spectacular home. The remodeling job makes the space comfortable while retaining the essence of it being in a monastery. The windows, the carvings around the door. Your home is a wonder.”

Her words calmed him. He managed to nod and motioned for her to enter his office. Keeping his gaze anywhere but her chest, he led her to his desk, where they both took a seat.

“Yes, the work was carefully planned and executed. I, too, am pleased with the outcome.”

“I wanted to confirm the ground rules,” she said. “Edna explained about the door lock code and I’ve seen both floors.” Her mouth curved up at the corners. “Not the basement yet, but I’m so going to explore that. Edna said I was free to go anywhere in the house with the exception of your office and bedroom, of course.”

She put her hands on her lap, resting them calmly. Margot didn’t fidget. He liked that.

“The guest lounge upstairs is comfortable and certainly has everything I need,” she continued. “I’ll use the desk for my work and I’m thinking it would be easier if Bianca and I conducted most of our classes outside.”

He nodded, not sure what any of this had to do with him.

“I prefer to take my meals in my room.” Margot’s tone was firm. “I’m not a member of the family and there’s no need to act like I am. I’ve found it’s much easier on everyone if we all remember that. There’s no awkward conversation and if I have a bad day with your mother, the last thing she would want would be to have dinner with me.”

“Bianca is gone most evenings,” he said. “She often goes to see Wesley or to spend time with her friends.” In fact, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t had dinner with his mother since she moved in nearly two weeks ago. Which was odd considering how it seemed she was always everywhere.

“No matter. I’ll collect my meals from the kitchen and take them upstairs if it’s all the same to you.”

“Excellent. Anything else?”

“Your mother and I begin in the morning. As my contract is with her, I won’t be providing you with updates.”

“I believe I will be the first to notice if you make any progress.”

She studied him. “You still don’t think I can help.”

“I’m not sure anyone can help. My mother answers to no one. She is like a leaf on the wind—she goes where she likes.”

“I thought leaves went where the wind said.”

“You are correct. A poor analogy.” He tried to think of another, but the only thing that came to mind was how much he wanted to look at Margot’s breasts and that certainly wasn’t anything he could mention.

“Tell me a story from when you were little,” she said with a smile. “About your mother.”

The request surprised him. “What kind of story? A good story or a bad one? Are you trying to learn something specific?”

“Not really. I’m just curious and I’d like to get a feel for her. Can you give me one of each?”

He nodded. “When I turned seven, she rented out an ice-cream parlor and treated my entire class to an afternoon there. We played games and ate as much ice cream as we wanted.”

“That is a good story.”

“Yes, until all the children started throwing up because they’d had too much.”

“Oh. I suppose I can see how that would happen. And the other story?”

“When I was seventeen, she slept with my best friend.”

Alec immediately wanted to call back the words, but it was too late. They hung out there in the late afternoon, echoing in his large office. Margot’s eyes widened.

“I was away at a Swiss boarding school,” he added, realizing he had to explain. “She came to visit and took the two of us to Paris for a long weekend. I went for a walk one afternoon and when I came back, I saw him stepping out of her room.”

He remembered the sense of betrayal—that his mother would come between him and a friend. She’d always known he didn’t make friends easily and to get in the middle of that, to change it into something uncomfortable, had made him furious. And sad.

“I’m not gay,” he said. “It wasn’t that I was in love with him, but it wasn’t something she should have done.”

“No,” Margot murmured. “We’ll leave the fact that she slept with a minor for another time.” Her mouth twisted. “I’m sorry. You must have felt betrayed by both of them.”

“I did. He and I never spoke of it.” Not a word, he thought. But everything had changed. The next year Alec had gone off to University of Oxford and he and his friend had lost touch.

Until then he’d known his mother was impulsive, but he hadn’t realized how the flaw affected other people. He’d always kept fairly tight control on his emotions, but that incident had solidified his determination to let his mind dictate his actions. There would be no hasty decisions, no wild flights of fancy. It was a rule he lived by, regardless of circumstances.

Margot worried her lower lip, drawing his attention to the shape of her mouth.

“My mother abandoned my sister and me when we were little,” she said quietly. “Her mother had abandoned her the same way. The Baxter women are not known for their good choices in the men they fall for or how they raise their children.”

He appreciated her attempt to level the emotional playing field. It was a nice gesture and spoke well of her character.

“You haven’t abandoned any children.” His tone was firm.

“No, but I’ve been unwise about men.” She wrinkled her nose. “Or rather, one man.” She drew in a breath and met his gaze. “But that’s behind me now.” Her mouth turned up in an impish smile. “Because unlike you, I believe people can change.”

“It’s not people so much as my mother. Still, she wants this. She does love Wesley.”

“You sound surprised.”

“She’s never been so devoted to someone. He’s not her usual type, so perhaps that’s the reason.”

“Or he’s the one she’s been looking for all along.”

He raised his eyebrows. “A romantic, Margot? I would not have expected that.”

“Not a romantic, but I remain hopeful.”

He wondered about the man she’d been foolish with. What did that mean? Alec made it a point to never get involved with a woman. Not seriously. If he let down his barriers, if he gave his heart, well, he didn’t know what would happen, but the worry that he could turn into his mother was enough to keep him comfortably solitary. He didn’t like a lot of drama and emotion in his world. He’d created the life he wanted and he was content. There were no highs, but also no worries that he would become unhinged.

She rose. “I won’t keep you any longer,” she said. “I just wanted to say hello and make sure we were both clear with the ground rules.”

“Of course.” He stood. “Have you discussed them with my mother?”

“I will and I’m confident she’ll be in favor of them.”

He allowed himself a slight smile. “We’ll see.”

“I can be stubborn and disciplined.”

“I’m sure that’s true, but Bianca has a way of making things happen that are more to her liking. She swoops in and rearranges until you’re left wondering how exactly things got that way. It’s a gift.”

She laughed. “You mean it’s a curse.”

“Not for her. Just us lesser mortals.”

“I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to proving you wrong.”

“I am rarely wrong, Margot.”

“Neither am I.”

By nine-thirty that night, Margot was nearly giddy from her excitement about the house. She’d spent an hour in the small chapel, only leaving when it got dark. She’d checked out the empty guest room, the guest lounge and most of the kitchen. She’d made herself a sandwich for dinner and had discovered that the cookie jar was full of cookies. Homemade cookies with frosting or chocolate chips, all soft and gooey and if this kept up she was going to have to up her exercise routine. Or buy bigger pants.

Later in the week, when she had some free time, she was going to explore the gardens. The grounds were extensive—at least three acres—and she wanted to discover every inch.

It was late enough that she knew she should head to her room, but she just wasn’t ready. Bianca had gone out and Alec was somewhere—possibly his office or the media room and she planned to avoid both—so it was as if she had the entire house to herself.

She thought briefly about heading into the basement, but decided that might be too much for her first night. At some point she really did have to get some sleep. Just not quite yet.

She walked to the stairs leading to the second floor and told herself to be a responsible adult and just go to her room, only to hear someone coming up behind her. She turned and saw Alec leaving the kitchen. His gaze met hers and they both froze.

She recovered first and smiled. “It’s just me. I’ve been exploring.”

“Did you find anything unusual?”

“Not yet. What would count as unusual?”

“Old documents would be excellent. Artifacts, that sort of thing.”

“I doubt there are many hiding spaces left. The guys doing the remodel would have found them all.” She laughed. “What about a skeleton?”

“No, thank you.”

“Because it would creep you out?”

“Because it would bring too many people here.”

“Of course. The police, the coroner, reporters. You want something intriguing that won’t set off an invasion. I’ll do my best to make that happen.”

“Thank you.”

She expected him to excuse himself but instead he gestured toward the living room. “Would you care to join me for a cognac?”

She wasn’t sure a man had ever invited her “for a cognac” before. “Thank you,” she said, and followed him into the living room.

While Alec walked over to the wet bar against the far wall, Margot took in the high ceiling and clerestory windows across the entire east side. She would guess they had once been stained glass, no doubt removed when the property had been sold. Converting the monastery into a home must have been quite the job.

She took a seat in one of the wingback chairs by the sofa. Alec handed her a glass, then took a seat opposite her.

“Any ghost sightings?” he asked.

“I’m not sure I believe in ghosts. Do you?”

“I have yet to see one.”

“And seeing is believing?”

“When it comes to ghosts, yes.”

She took a sip of her drink. The cognac was rich and smooth.

“Edna mentioned something about ancient texts,” she said. “That if I saw anything that looked like old paper to not touch it.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “I assure you, you will not find ancient texts lying around. They are all cataloged and protected.”

“Whew. Because I was really worried. I wouldn’t want to get a sweaty glass ring on the one document that could further our understanding of a language.”

“That would be a tragedy. Now you can rest easy.”

“So is that what you do? Study languages?”

“I’m more interested in what the texts say than the language itself. What was considered so important that it had to be captured in the written word. Five thousand years ago, there weren’t any sticky notes. Back then a written message was deliberate. Paper had to be made by hand and it was a laborious process. Ink had to be created and then you had to find someone who knew how to read and write.”

“I never thought of it that way, but of course you’re right. Today language is careless. We think nothing of writing something down.”

“Exactly. There are still languages that we can’t decipher. One of my hobbies is trying to translate Indus script. The civilization existed from about 2600 BC to 1900 BC in the area of what we know as Pakistan and northwestern India. They were a thriving people with an export trade and several large towns, and then they were gone, leaving behind a written language we have yet to understand.”

“I didn’t know there were any written languages that hadn’t been translated.”

“There are several. Every year or so I take a few weeks to see if I can make any progress on Indus script.”

Okay, that was impressive. Her goal on the hobby front was to learn how to knit.

“Tell me how you do your work.”

She smiled. “That’s a very generalized question. Every client is different and I do my best to customize my approach for the situation. A businessperson wanting to learn cultural norms for a business trip to China is a very different proposition than someone who might be moving to Argentina for a promotion.”

“Do you know much about living in Argentina?”

“No.” She laughed. “That was an example. I could teach a basic course on business practices in Argentina, but I don’t know the nuances necessary for someone moving there. We have experts.”

“On Argentina?”

“On nearly every country. I’m more of a generalist.”

“Ah. You get the unusual requests.”