Mark stood in the center of the room and turned a slow circle, frowning. Luxurious tapestries covered the walls in delicate colors and subtle patterns, the floor was carpeted deep enough to smother in, and the furniture was all quietly expensive. Glaring darkly, he stalked over to a doorway and looked in. It was a bedroom, done up in what looked like green silk and velvet, with polished dark wood furnishings. Mark leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms, and stared.
The four-poster bed was huge, and high, and far too wide for one person.
Mark growled under his breath and flipped his hair back, pulling the hairband off his wrist to trap it in a quick ponytail. He kept his hair long because he liked it that way, liked the way girls looked at him, liked the wary glances some of the old folks slid his way, but sometimes it made him feel way too girly. Some guys reacted weird to a long-haired boy – like he was half girl or something. He’d been ignored, mocked, come on to, and beat up, and preferred to avoid the question altogether. They didn’t really notice so much if it was in a tail, and he’d gotten into the habit of putting back his hair whenever he was feeling less than in control of a situation.
Grinding his teeth, Mark stuffed the tail down the neck of his shirt and shook his head so it fell down straight. Now would definitely classify as one of those times.
Conner was doing him a favor, that was undeniable. He just hadn’t asked for this much, and he was wondering what the payback was going to come out of.
They’d known each other for a while now, he reminded himself. He’d known that Conner was rich, that was why he’d asked him for help in the first place. He just hadn’t expected such a dramatic response.
I only need a place to stay while I put my life back together, not a private suite in a penthouse.
It wasn’t a penthouse, just an end of
one wing of Conner’s English mansion, but that didn’t help. Of course the man had others, one in
Restlessly he paced into the middle of the room, ran a hand across the plush pine-green bedcover, thumped a fist into it. His fist sank unexpectedly into a thick feather eiderdown and he tipped forward for a second. Recovering his balance, he turned back to the doorway and stopped. Fancy carved wooden doors – was that a walk-in closet over there?
Heart doing something odd in his chest, he walked over to it and opened one door. Indeed it was, and filled with immaculate clothes. Frowning, heart beating faster, he stretched out a hand and poked a black silk shirt, turning it on its hanger toward him. Couldn’t be. Just to be sure, he pulled it off the hanger – Conner wasn’t going to mind – and stripped off his own shirt.
Naturally there was a full-length mirror on the inside of the other door, and he tried on the silk in front of it, turning back and forth as if a different angle could change the answer. The silk was tight, but not too tight, and it fit him perfectly. Mark had long arms and a short torso – it took a tailor to make a shirt fit him this well, and he hadn’t been to a tailor since high school graduation.
His heart was trying to bruise his ribcage, clearly, but he wasn’t sure why, couldn’t tell if he was more pissed or freaked out.
How the hell’d that son of a bitch get my measurements?
Hit with a sudden premonition, he glanced back at the rows of clothes and felt his heart sink. Conner wasn’t the type to do something halfway. If the shirt fit perfectly, so would the rest of the closet.
Bloody son of a bitch!
A private, elegant suite to himself, fully furnished with the best amenities, might be understandable if Conner was just being generous. An entire wardrobe, tailored perfectly for Mark Alexander Freedman? Not exactly standard tuxes and t-shirts, either, he confirmed, poking around further in the rows of garments. There was the black leather he liked to dress up in occasionally, pre-ripped and mangled street clothes to hang out in, silks fit for a high society costume party, and more, all of it far better make and style than he could ever afford.
What the hell was Conner thinking? He hadn’t asked for charity, hadn’t been looking for presents! He hadn’t even given the man pitiful looks for sympathy! Except that, wait, Laura had just broken up with him, so he probably had looked pretty pitiful anyway.
Abruptly too weary to care about the mysteriously aquired wardrobe, Mark wandered over to the bed and flopped down on his stomach. The feather comforter attempted to smother him. He appreciated the effort, but foiled it anyway, folding both arms underneath his chin and staring at the wall.
A while later he realized he was brooding. It was a bad habit, but that didn’t seem to make any difference. He’d tried to stop himself before and it never worked, he just wound around in circles til he landed right back in the deep grey bog.
Why’d she leave?
It wasn’t like he didn’t have anything else to do. He should call his sister, tell her he found a place to stay, notify Jenner & Brown that he wasn’t going to be coming back, call his parents. Tell them what happened.
Had it been something he’d done?
He rolled over on his back, stared up at the mottled green canopy of the bed. It somehow gave the effect of overlapping foliage, treetops above treetops, without using anything so vulgarly obvious as a leaf shape. The bed designer was quite an artist, because when he looked closer, the bedposts too had a subtle barkish look to them without looking either frontier rough-whittled or artificially patterned. He would bet anything they were carved by hand.
Had he neglected to do something she wanted, failed to fulfill some critical need?
“I hope you’re not dwelling on that bloody girl again.”
Mark twisted around to see Conner lounging in the doorway, lean and insouciently elegant. Touseled brown hair fell over one blue eye, giving him a rakish, rumpled look.
Mark glowered at him. “What if I am? I think I have a right, all things considered.”
Conner sighed dramatically, folding his arms and looking up at the ceiling. “Marcus, dear boy – ”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What?” Conner looked startled. “But you are a dear boy – ”
“No, Marcus. Only policemen and my dad call me that. My name is Mark.”
“Hmmm. We’ll have to come up with something else, then.” Conner looked thoughtful for a moment and Mark frowned.
“Can’t you just call me that?”
“Call you the same thing as everyone else? I don’t think so! You’re my housemate, after all, you need something special.” He grinned. “I give everyone a new name, you see, and sometimes it catches on and everyone else calls them that too. That’s rather fun. My valet’s name is actually Terence, but I call him Takkan, which he prefers now.”
His housemate? That sounded almost possessive, not to mention this crazy renaming thing. “What if I prefer Mark?”
“Oh, come on, I’m not about to call you Ebenezer or something! I’ll find something you’ll like.” Flipping his hair out of his eye, Conner smiled confidently. “Oh, by the way, speaking of my valet, he’ll be by in a little while to see if you need anything. I’m putting him at your complete disposal, so if you have the slightest need, don’t hesitate to call on him. I won’t be needing his services except in the evenings.”
Mark raised an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to call him Terence or Takkan?”
“He answers to either, but he does prefer Takkan. I told you,” he shrugged, smiling as he moved into the room, “I choose names that fit the owner, so people like them. And speaking of fitting – ” He leaned against one of the carven posts of the bed, eyes scanning Mark’s chest, and Mark suddenly realized he was still wearing the black silk.
“Ah, damn!” He sat up and started to pull it off, apologizing and kicking himself inwardly for assuming that just because it was in the suite, it was for him. “Sorry, forgot I was wearing this, I just tried it on cuz it looked like –”
“It would fit you? Excellent! Looks like it does quite nicely! I just thought you might like a little suite-warming present.” Conner grinned, and Mark blinked enviously at his perfect teeth.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. I mean, look, Conner, I know you’re rolling in it, but this whole thing’s a little crazy!” Folding the silk shirt carefully, he laid it aside and gave Conner an exasperated look. “An entire new wardrobe for a little gift? For that matter, an entire suite just for me? I only need two rooms at best! And I don’t need your personal valet waiting on me, I don’t even need a maid, I can pick up after myself! Honestly, I’m not trying to disrupt your whole household, you didn’t need to go to all this trouble!”
Conner looked hurt. “But I didn’t go to any trouble! I’m just trying to be hospitable. Did I screw it up?”
Mark stared at him for a moment, then got to his feet and took the silk shirt back to the closet. He put it back on its hanger and retrieved his own shirt, pulling it over his head, and tried to twist his head around to the viewpoint of the extremely rich.
After a moment he shook his head and shrugged, going back over to the bed. Sprawling across the coverlet once more, he gave Conner a cheerful half-grin. “Hey, who am I to argue with perfect teeth? You didn’t exactly screw it up, just puzzled the hell out of me. If you really wanna do this, I’m not gonna turn it down, it’s just… You’re not just doing me a little favor, you’re giving me stuff, and I’m gonna owe you big time. How’m I supposed to pay you back?”
“You’ve already paid me back!” Conner said earnestly. “You’re staying here. I get a housemate! What else do I need?”
“Conner, are you telling me you’re lonely? I know you’ve got friends! Where are they?”
He shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I don’t know anyone willing to spend a few days here.”
Mark frowned at him for a moment, leaning up on his elbows. “So you’re trying to buy some companionship, is that what I’m hearing here?”
Conner looked horrified. “No no no, you can do whatever you like here! You can stay in here and lock your doors, spend your days out somewhere, whatever, I don’t mind, it’s just… There’s someone else living in the house. That’s all I want.”
There was a long period of silence as Mark regarded his host with some sympathy. At least some of those symptoms he could identify with – the desire not to be alone, and stronger, the empty feeling of absence.
“Your parents are still around, right?”
“Technically. They’re in
Mark pondered this. “Sounds like you need a girlfriend.”
Conner snorted. “I beg your pardon, I do not. I’ve seen where girlfriends get people. Either broken-hearted or into humongous amounts of trouble.”
Mark held up a warning finger, sitting up. “If you’re thinking of Larry and Stacia, I’ve got to state for the record that that girl is totally out of the normal realm of behavior. I mean, she’s really got something going on, psychosis or something. Larry only gets into that much trouble cuz he doesn’t pay attention to what she’s up to.”
“Yes, well, do you really think I’d be likely to do any better?” Conner spread his hands, inviting comment. Mark looked at him for a long moment before the snigger escaped and he turned it into a cough.
“Point,” he admitted, smirking.
“How am I going to do better than a live-in houseguest? Besides, if you don’t want to stay holed up in your rooms, segregated from all human company, there’s so much we could do! There are parties to crash, clubs and bars to visit, theatres to attend –”
“You’re not going to make me believe that you have to crash parties,” Mark pointed out. “You’re probably invited to every party ever conceived of.”
“Maybe. You might be surprised,” Conner grinned. “At any rate, if you’re willing, we could have a lot of fun.”
Mark smiled at his enthusiasm, considering it. God knew he had to occupy himself somehow to keep his mind off Laura… And with an ecstatically bouncy Conner at his side, dragging him from one activity to another, he probably wouldn’t even have time to remember why he had to live with Conner in the first place.
“Sounds good to me.”
“C’est magnifique! Wonderful, thank you!” The guy practically danced to the doorway, turning there to beam back at him. “Takkan will come by shortly; if you’re hungry, he can get you anything you want. You can eat dinner with me in the dining room or here by yourself, whatever you like. Have a good afternoon! I’ll see you later!”
“See you,” Mark said, grinning bemusement as his delighted host vanished into the other room, humming something he didn’t recognize. The humming faded from earshot as Conner left the suite, and Mark lay back on the bed, smiling thoughtfully. In the circle of their mutual aquaintances, the rich boy had always seemed witty, urbane and knowledgeable, with an informed opinion on everything, or at the least a piece of new information for the company to chew on. Now it seemed that there were areas where he was not only lacking, but seriously clueless.