After the Fall Ch. 01

Remembering Paula's warning about Michael's impatience, Mariah undressed quickly and got in the shower. It was heavenly. The temperature was hot and the water pressure was strong enough to soothe the ache in the back of her neck. The niche that ran the length of the shower's back wall was filled with soaps, shampoos and conditioners in a variety of scents. Unscented didn't seem to be an option, so Mariah chose a set that smelled like sandalwood and gardenia. As she lathered her hair, she tried to wrap her mind around everything that had happened to her over the course of a single day. And the day wasn't even over yet.

She worked the conditioner into her hair and tried hard not to think of Michael while she soaped herself. The ledge of the niche also held a razor and pumice stone. By the time she finished making use of them, she was worrying about the time. She toweled off quickly and slipped into a white terry cloth robe she found hanging on a peg. If Michael did show up, at least she'd be wearing something.

She combed her hair out and checked her part in the mirror. She touched the shadow of a bruise at the on the side of her face above her cheek. It barely hurt at all. She grinned at her reflection, remembering Michael's comment that Hawley was wishing he could hit like a girl.

She peeked into the bedroom while she blew her hair dry. Henry was still on the bed and was laying on his back with one paw stuck straight up in the air. She spotted Duncan on a windowsill, glaring daggers at her. Julia was probably still hiding under the bed. Mariah had just finished fixing her hair when she heard a knock at the door. She froze. It must be Michael.

"It's just me, sweetie," Paula called through the door. Mariah let out the breath she'd been holding in a huge sigh of relief and hurried over to open the door for her. "Don't you look lovely!" Paula exclaimed.

Uncomfortable with compliments, Mariah changed the subject by telling Paula how much she'd enjoyed the bath products. "Michael chose the scents. He's got great taste." Paula smiled proudly. She sounded like a parent whose child's artwork was chosen to hang in the principal's office at school.

Paula had food and water for Henry and the cats. Henry jumped up and put his paws on Paula's shoulders to express his slobbery gratitude. Mariah laughed as Paula tried to pet Henry and fend off his doggie kisses at the same time. She grabbed the outfit she'd unpacked, but Paula stopped her. "Did you see the closet, dear?"

"No, I was just planning on wearing this," Mariah held up the outfit in her hands.

"Well, let's have a look," Paula suggested, and ushered her toward the closet door. Paula pulled open the door and flicked on a light, revealing a closet the size of a normal bedroom. It was lined with racks of clothes on both sides, with shoes lined up on shelves beneath the clothes. The back wall of the closet was filled with drawers. Between the clothing-lined walls, there was a long, cushioned bench upholstered in light blue.

Mariah grew more serious. "Paula, where did all these clothes come from? Who do they belong to? Please don't tell me someone gave up their bedroom for me."

Paula beamed. "They're yours. They're brand new. Michael picked them out himself."

Mariah was flustered. "How on earth? Paula, I don't know what to say. I don't need all these clothes."

"I know, sweetie. Nobody needs that many clothes. But Michael really put a lot of effort into it, and he'll be so pleased if you like them."

Mariah nodded. "Of course. I don't mean to be ungracious. I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Paula patted her arm. "Don't worry. Everything will work out. Now, why don't you pick something out and I'll just check on Michael. The poor man's down in the library climbing walls. I'll be right back to show you where it is." Paula scurried off.

Mariah wandered into the closet to find something to wear, which was a bit daunting given the sheer quantity of clothes to look through. She checked a few random labels to confirm that they really were her size. She considered wearing the outfit she'd already laid out as a show of independence, but decided it probably wasn't the first battle she ought to pick. For the foreseeable future, she would have to balance the needs of Michael's inner control freak with her own need for self-determination in order to maintain a productive working relationship. She saw a color she liked and grabbed it. It was a coral sundress with flowing lines and a lace-up back.

Now for underwear. The drawers at the back of the closet were full of lingerie, and she couldn't take time to hunt through every drawer. If the first several drawers she checked were any indication, it all looked like something out of a Victoria's Secret catalog, anyway. She wondered where Michael found it, given that there was no more Victoria's Secret, or even Walmart for that matter. More disturbingly, how had he figured out her correct bra and panty size? She probably didn't want to know. She put on a white lace bra and panty set and pulled the sundress on over it. A pair of sandals completed the outfit.

When Paula returned, Mariah was halfway under the bed, apologizing to Julia with chin rubs. She scrambled out with what dignity she could muster under the circumstances. "Sorry, I was making up with my cat. She's still in hiding."

Paula nodded. "The poor little things can be so sensitive, can't they? Well, just wait until she sees all the goodies her new aunt Paula's going to get her. It won't take her long to come around. But we'd better get you downstairs. I promised Michael I'd bring you back with me."

They took the elevator down to the first floor and Paula herded her down the west wing. "Paula, where did all those clothes come from? Or the bath products? Or the ingredients Marcus uses? Where do any of these things come from?"

"That's something Michael is going to want to explain to you himself."

All too soon, Paula left her standing in front of the library where Michael was waiting. She squared her shoulders and entered, resolved to stay cool and collected. Michael stood when she entered and came over to meet her, displaying none of the anxiety she felt. He smiled, but she saw his mouth tighten when he saw the light bruise on her face.

"There you are. All settled in?"

"Mostly." She felt like she ought to be thanking him for the clothes right now, but she didn't intend to reward his presumption. She suspected they were more for his benefit than hers, anyway.

"Did you find everything you need? Did we forget anything?"

Mariah had to laugh. "Honestly, I can't imagine what you could possibly have forgotten. It was all lovely. I don't even know what to say about it all."

Michael smiled. He really did have a cute smile. There was something innocently boyish about it. "You don't need to say anything at all, unless you think of something you need. You'd be surprised what we can get our hands on, so please let me or Paula know if there's anything you want."

"I wanted to ask about that. Where do all these things come from? It's like you raided a department store, except the department stores have been empty for years. Nobody can get these sorts of things."

"That's a small piece of a much larger picture. I'm sure you remember how people started stockpiling things when the economy collapsed. Stores were completely emptied, and everyone attributed it to panicked consumers. It was true that ordinary consumers cleaned out the stores, but most of the products weren't in the stores. They were in factories and warehouses along the supply line. Plus, some of the factories kept producing for a while even after they stopped delivering to stores."

"Every crisis is an opportunity for someone. People with the means and the right connections bought everything directly from the manufacturers, so the goods never made it to the stores. They bought them as an investment. The investors believed things would start to return to normal before too long, but they expected an interim of scarcity before factories were operating again. They anticipated an enormous profit from selling their stockpiled goods until production was up and running."

"To this day, they are still sitting on huge quantities of consumer goods. Since very few people have access to them, the stockpiles are barely diminished, even after all this time. Those people are the source of most of the things you're asking about. There's much more to tell about it, and I know you have questions. As I said, it's part of a much bigger story. Tomorrow, I'll show you around the compound and introduce you to everyone. Then, I'll start filling you in on the bigger picture."

"That's disgusting! Why didn't you let anyone know it was going on?"

"Who would I tell and what could they do about it? Those warehouses are locked down like Fort Knox and guarded by people who won't hesitate to kill any unauthorized person who finds the location. Even if I had the ability to open those storehouses to people, it would be a very temporary benefit. We need to find permanent solutions. That's what I want you to help me do."

The conversation lapsed as Mariah turned Michael's explanation over in her head. He was correct from a logical point of view, but that logic did nothing to address the massive injustice. She acknowledged that right now, the most important thing was to give people tools to improve their lives. Where did justice fit into it? Surely nothing worthwhile could be built without fairness at its foundation.

She looked up to find Michael studying her intensely. "How are you doing?" he asked, his voice husky.

She fidgeted under his gaze. "I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"But what are you feeling emotionally?" Michael persisted.

She had been trying not to think about what she was feeling. The day had been a roller coaster of anger, hope, sadness, and even excitement. Not to mention the jumble of emotions she felt toward Michael personally. She resented him for imposing conditions on her life in exchange for something she felt he should be happy to offer freely.

His requirement that she offer her sexual submission to him was outrageous, and it made it even harder to process her attraction to him. When she made her to decision to accept his proposal, she planned to carefully balance and draw on her feelings toward him. After his kiss earlier, she no longer trusted her feelings. She was also beginning to recognize that her attraction might be more than physical, and that was dangerous. She needed time to let the tumult of thoughts in her head settle down so she could sort things out. Her emotions were running high and discordant, and she was afraid she would fall apart if she tried to unravel them now.

Michael was still waiting for an answer. "I'm pretty overwhelmed right now. I'd rather not to talk about it."

Michael's forehead creased, but his frown faded quickly. "Perhaps you'd like a tour of the library?" he suggested smoothly.

"I'd like that."

Three of the library's walls were lined with bookshelves. Michael explained the organizing principals of the book collection, pausing here and there as they made their way along the shelves to pull out a favorite. Many of the books were beautifully bound editions. Others were well-thumbed paperbacks. Here and there, Mariah noticed some of her own favorites, as well as some titles she looked forward to reading. She supposed that if Michael had procured an entire wardrobe for her to wear, it was safe to assume she would be allowed to borrow books.

The fourth wall held a bank of windows that overlooked a lush lawn planted with trees, shrubs and flowers. The library's central seating was a casual mixture of love seats, recliners and ottomans. Directly in front of the windows, there were a couple of armchairs and a coffee table divided from the main seating area by a cabinet displaying a collection of maps and globes. Michael led her to the windows and they looked out. "This reminds me of the library on the campus of a college close to where I used to live," Mariah remarked.

Mariah was already in Ashland when Michael's father called him home from college and locked down the compound, but he'd known she was originally from somewhere else. "Where did you live before you came to Colorado?" he asked.

"Maryland. I lived on the peninsula where the Patuxent River emptied into the Chesapeake Bay." There was longing in her voice. "Most of it's under water now," she added sadly.

"Tell me about that library."

She glanced at Michael. She hoped he meant to ask it as a question, but it sounded like a command. "It was one of the most pleasant spaces I've ever spent time in. It had plenty of windows and high ceilings, but it was proportioned and laid out so well that it felt quite intimate. The rows of bookshelves were just the right amount of musty, and the rest of the library was light and airy. The woodwork was incredible."

"On the second floor, there was a seating area with a huge picture window. It was close enough to the river that you could watch the students yachting. Outside the library, there were arbors and trellises covered in wisteria vines. There were even several peacocks that roamed around during the warm weather months. They were gorgeous, and they would come very close to people because they were used to getting crumbs."

"It sounds lovely," Michael said, picturing it in his mind. "You miss it, don't you?"

"The college?"

"The place," Michael clarified.

"Yes, I do. I'm not exactly homesick, but I miss the sights and smells and sounds of being near the water. I hadn't thought about that library in years, though. I guess remembering it made me nostalgic."

"Maybe we should get some wisteria and peacocks for the compound."

She laughed. "Too bad Lois is out of peacocks at the shop!"

"She does have wisteria?" Michael looked quizzical, as if he really thought Lois Hubbard might be keeping flowering vines in a back room.

"Not last I checked. It would be a hard product to move, since you can just go out and find some."

"You can? I assumed it would come from a greenhouse."

"Well, it did. But once people planted it, it took off. I happened across an abandoned house in the woods that was absolutely covered in it." Mariah wondered at Michael's sudden interest in wisteria. Did he actually want to find some to plant?

Michael took her elbow and guided her to the window. "See that little path going off to the left?"

"I see it."

"It leads to a pond. I can show you tomorrow. We could build an arbor for wisteria over the path, don't you think?"

Mariah frowned. Was he serious? The last thing she wanted was for him to rearrange his landscaping for her. She searched for a tactful escape from the subject.

"I'm sure it would be beautiful, but the person who maintains your grounds probably wouldn't appreciate it. Wisteria can really take over. It has to be trimmed frequently, and it sends out shoots underground that pop up well away from where it's supposed to be growing." That, she thought hopefully, should put an end to the landscaping plans. Any manpower available needed to be reserved for their project, anyway.

Michael put a hand on her shoulder and pointed to the tree line at the crest of the hill behind the house. "Look. Foxes!" A small fox emerged from the trees and crept towards the house. A moment later, five little foxes appeared, trailing their mother.

"They're coming drink at the birdbath. I was hoping they would show up tonight so you could see them."

The vixen's coat was burnt orange and white, but her kits were fuzzy gray fluffballs. Three of them followed their mother closely and imitated her movements, but the other two kept pouncing on each other. They fell behind their siblings, then caught up when they rolled down the hill, still tussling.

They watched the foxes until they had their drink and disappeared back into the trees. Michael's hand was warm on her shoulder, and she was intensely aware of how close he stood to her. It made it hard for her to think. He moved to stand behind her, and when he spoke, his voice rumbled so close to her ear that it made her shiver.

"Do you think you can tell me how you feel, now?"

Mariah sighed. She didn't want to tell him, but his nearness was making it hard for her to think. When she didn't answer right away, he asked again, softly, "How do you feel, Mariah?" His voice was even closer than before. It was making her thoughts go haywire.

"Confused," she whispered.

His hand moved from her shoulder to the back of her neck, where he stroked it lightly. "What are you confused about?"

"You," she said simply.

He kissed the top of her ear and her breath caught. Her ears were sensitive, and she shivered hard enough that she knew he must have noticed.

"Thank you for telling me," he said, so close to her ear. "In the future, I expect you to tell me how you feel. We can go to a window if that makes it easier for you to talk, but you have to tell me."

Michael's words jerked her out of the haze that was clouding her mind. She was dismayed that he had already ferreted out the fact that it was easier for to talk about sensitive subjects that way, and she was affronted by his presumptuousness.

She turned to face him. "Why should I have to tell you how I feel?"

Michael put his hand on her shoulders. "I need to know so that I can take care of you."

Mariah shrugged away his hands. "Thank you, but you don't need to take care of me. If there is something I need to talk to you about, I'll let you know, but I'm a very private person."

Michael looked hurt and a little angry. "Mariah," he started, then stopped when he saw the tears in her eyes. Mariah was mortified when a tear escaped the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek. Michael wiped it away. "It's okay. We'll talk about this another time."

"Michael, this isn't going to work. I can help with the project, but I'm just not right for the interpersonal part of this. My friend, Rebecca, would be perfect for you. She's gorgeous. She's tall, blond, has green eyes. She could be a model." Words were just spilling stupidly out of Mariah's mouth and she couldn't seem to stop. "Rebecca is really open and easy-going. She wouldn't be awkward or make things difficult like I do." Mariah finally ran out of things to say and trailed off, looking miserably at her hands.

"So, you want to sacrifice your friend in your place so you can get away from me?" Michael's voice was flat and hard.

"No! You don't understand! I want to stay. I want to work on your project with you. I could stay and work with you, and Rebecca could offer the companionship and sex you want. And it's not sacrificing her! She would be all over you. In a good way, I mean. She'd start seducing you the minute she met you."

Michael looked angry. Mariah's eyes wandered to the door. She desperately wanted to get out of this room. Michael took her chin and forced her to look at him. His expression was stony. "Mariah, I don't ever, EVER want to hear again about Rebecca or any other woman as a substitute for you. Do you understand me?"

"But I'm not any good at this. I've just gotten here and you're already angry with me."

Michael leaned closer and repeated himself, a little louder this time. "Do you understand me, Mariah?"

She nodded.

"Tell me," he demanded.

"I understand."

"Good." His expression softened. His thumb brushed over her lips. "I want you. Not Rebecca. Not anyone else. Just you." He caressed her cheek. "I'm sorry everything happened so suddenly, Mariah, but I could never be sorry you're here with me. I'm not angry with you. I'm angry that this is hard for you, and that I can't make it easier. I'm angry that I'm not better at helping you understand."

His fingers slid along her jaw and back through her hair. He kissed her gently, tenderly. All she could think was that his lips felt so good against hers, just like she'd been remembering. He kissed her again and again, slow and soft, until she was responding to his kisses. His fingers trailed through her hair to the back of her head, as he urged her into the kiss. Michael deepened the kiss as his other hand skimmed her waist, sliding up to the bottom of her rib cage.