He sniffs.
'With respect, Marguerite, you—' He pauses. 'I remember how you were at school, the tantrums, the throwing stuff around… killing my friend.'
'I didn’t do that,' I say faintly, kind of shocked that he's talking about it so openly.
He throws his hands up. 'Well, the cops thought you did it. My father thought you did it. Hell, even your own mother thought you did it.’
I say nothing.
‘Why are you here?' he asks, folding his hands and putting them on his desk. 'What do you hope to achieve from this meeting?'
‘I don't?—'
He gets up from the desk and walks around the office. I sit up straight. I don't look at him. This is some kind of intimidation tactic, isn’t it?
And then I hear it. The metronome. He's flicked the needle, and now it's making the tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick sound. The sound of it hits me viscerally, because I didn’t expect it, didn’t know it was coming.
'I don't want this guardianship,' I grind out, trying to block out the noise. 'I don't need it. I am an adult woman, and I donothave mental challenges.'
'I disagree,' Andrew says, coming to stand behind me and putting his hands on my shoulders lightly. ‘I mean even the sound of that little box is driving you crazy. I can see that it is and, no matter what my brother has made you believe about yourself, it isn't normal, Marguerite.’
I recognize this. It’s something John would have done, and did do, when I was younger to make sure I knew my place, to make me doubt myself, question my abilities, and to humiliate me.
I immediately stand and turn to face Andy, making sure I’m on equal footing and I get the sense that I’ve surprised him, but still, he presses on.
'There's a reason you were in an institution for ten years. I mean, I'm sure that they've helped a little,' he says, giving me a tight smile that makes my eyes narrow. 'But let's be honest, you're not a normal girl and you don’t really belong in the real world. And then my brother,’ Andy rolls his eyes. ‘He’s filled your head with nonsense about being a scientist, or something. I mean,come on.'
He chuckles as his eyes roam my face. 'Did you think I didn't know about that? Yes, I'm aware that you're not doing English Lit. I'm not actually sure what you are doing, but I know that Applegate and your father were friends, so I can only assume that this is some kind of a nepotism thing. Not that I'm against that.’
'Is that why he's lost his job?' I ask.
'Applegate?’ Andy waves a hand. ‘That's just business.’
‘Like Mav losing his grant?'
Andrew shrugs. 'As I said at dinner, my father had let a few things slip past the net. I'm just getting my new house in order. Mav’s a smart guy, but there's no real market for his drug right now.'
'How can you say that?' I ask. 'People overdose and get addicted to opiate-based painkillers every year. People die.'
He lets out a light chuckle. ‘Let’s get back to the subject at hand.’
He takes hold of my wrist, tightening his grip justenough to convey a threat when I try to pull it out of his grasp.
‘You are under my guardianship, and I take that very seriously. Now, you might think that you’re equipped to handle the world, but I know you're not, and so does Jack, in reality. I'm not sure why he's throwing out all of these fantastical ideas of—well, I don't even know what. But the fact of the matter is, you're marrying into the Bandervilles.’
‘I’m not,’ I snort. 'Marcus is horrible. Just like his brother was.'
Andrew shakes his head, giving me a condescending smile. 'The things you come out with. He's just a businessman, Marguerite. He'll make sure you're taken care of and safe. You're marrying him. End of discussion. Now, I have work to do. It would be best if you stayed here at the house instead of wherever my brother has you living. I won't make you, but where are you staying? Just so I know.'
'The KIP House,' I lie.
'Okay. Well,' he checks his watch and goes to the door. ‘I have a call in about two minutes. I'll have Pinkers see you out. Good talk.'
He leaves the office, closing the door.
Sighing, I glance up at the camera. It’s on. There's no way that I can go through the desk again just in case I missed something before.
I stand up and make a show of looking around the room at all the encyclopedias and the books while I wait for the butler. I note one that looks the same as the others but also different. Not as dusty. There's no other defining characteristics, but why would John touch it all the time if it wasn’t important? I take it down from the shelf, carefully keeping my back to the camera. I shove it inside my coat, whichPinkersnever took because he’s a sucky butler.
