Page 47
Story: Merrick
“With pleasure.”
*****
“It’s like a museum.” She murmured as they made their way through the winding driveway. She had called to ask him what the required dress code was, and he had told her to wear anything she felt comfortable wearing.
“In my world, that means combat boots and jeans.”
“How about dress pants and a nice sweater? I could order something from Romano’s, and you dress at my place.”
“No. I wear what I have and if it’s not pleasing to the eyes of your family, then to hell with them.”
He had not cared one way or another what she put on, but his family, especially his sister-in-law were snobs. He had told them he was bringing someone by for supper and they had been trying to find out who it was.
“It’s been in the family for several generations.”
“You moved out.”
He parked at the base of the wide porch steps and stared at the place he still considered as home. Bright lights blazed inside, giving the mellow white and gray bricks a kind of homeliness that never ceased to amaze him.
“I wanted my own space, and Maurice was starting his family. I figured he wanted space as well.”
He opened the door just as the wide double doors were flung open and a man dressed in all black, stepped out and stood waiting.
“Is that – no way! A butler!”
He grinned at her stupefied expression and she did not notice when he took her hand to help her out of the vehicle.
“He is in charge of the household and has been with the family since I was a child. His name is Boris.”
“He does not look like a Boris.”
He gave her a quizzical glance. “What does a Boris looks like?”
“Big and brawny with a lot of hair. This guy is skinny and with hardly any hair.”
“You are weird.”
“Wait!” She started to jerk her hand away, but he held fast as they mounted the steps.
“Mr. Merrick.” The man beamed at him and transferred his watery blue eyes to Margo.
“Boris, please meet my …” He turned his head towards her, a small frown on his brow.
Margo solved the problem by responding. “His sex partner.”
To his credit, Boris’ stoic expression did not change, and she had to bite back a laugh when she felt the pressure of Merrick’s fingers digging into her palm.
“My lady, Margo Sullivan.”
“Very pleased to meet you Ms. Margo.”
“The family is waiting in the main living room.” He stepped back so that they could enter the huge foyer with the soaring ceiling and Margo tried her best not to goggle. Boris took their jacketsand folded them carefully across one stiff and polished arm and stood there waiting until Merrick took her arm and led her down the hallway.
“Please behave,” he whispered.
“I cannot make any promises. This place is impressive.”
“Want the tour?”
*****
“It’s like a museum.” She murmured as they made their way through the winding driveway. She had called to ask him what the required dress code was, and he had told her to wear anything she felt comfortable wearing.
“In my world, that means combat boots and jeans.”
“How about dress pants and a nice sweater? I could order something from Romano’s, and you dress at my place.”
“No. I wear what I have and if it’s not pleasing to the eyes of your family, then to hell with them.”
He had not cared one way or another what she put on, but his family, especially his sister-in-law were snobs. He had told them he was bringing someone by for supper and they had been trying to find out who it was.
“It’s been in the family for several generations.”
“You moved out.”
He parked at the base of the wide porch steps and stared at the place he still considered as home. Bright lights blazed inside, giving the mellow white and gray bricks a kind of homeliness that never ceased to amaze him.
“I wanted my own space, and Maurice was starting his family. I figured he wanted space as well.”
He opened the door just as the wide double doors were flung open and a man dressed in all black, stepped out and stood waiting.
“Is that – no way! A butler!”
He grinned at her stupefied expression and she did not notice when he took her hand to help her out of the vehicle.
“He is in charge of the household and has been with the family since I was a child. His name is Boris.”
“He does not look like a Boris.”
He gave her a quizzical glance. “What does a Boris looks like?”
“Big and brawny with a lot of hair. This guy is skinny and with hardly any hair.”
“You are weird.”
“Wait!” She started to jerk her hand away, but he held fast as they mounted the steps.
“Mr. Merrick.” The man beamed at him and transferred his watery blue eyes to Margo.
“Boris, please meet my …” He turned his head towards her, a small frown on his brow.
Margo solved the problem by responding. “His sex partner.”
To his credit, Boris’ stoic expression did not change, and she had to bite back a laugh when she felt the pressure of Merrick’s fingers digging into her palm.
“My lady, Margo Sullivan.”
“Very pleased to meet you Ms. Margo.”
“The family is waiting in the main living room.” He stepped back so that they could enter the huge foyer with the soaring ceiling and Margo tried her best not to goggle. Boris took their jacketsand folded them carefully across one stiff and polished arm and stood there waiting until Merrick took her arm and led her down the hallway.
“Please behave,” he whispered.
“I cannot make any promises. This place is impressive.”
“Want the tour?”
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