Milo...Promises

        By Pattie Lawler

 

 

            Albany stood on the curb, waffling between lobster and king crab when she saw Milo in his scarlet greatcoat emerge from the shadow of the statue of Dante before the theater. He held a single red rose in his hand and looked all his apology.

            A smile split her face. Bending slightly, she drew in a deep breath, called upon hours of bella canto training and threw her arms wide. “I LOVE YOU, MILO SCARLET!”

            “WHAT?” He bellowed back, grinning like a fool.

            Albany repeated her declaration to the amusement of those passing. The light turned red, and Milo jumped a snow bank to run across the street. He caught her in his arms, crushing her to his chest as he bent to her ear.

            “Do you forgive me, my love?”

            His kisses warmed her chilled neck, and she melted against him. “Only if you forgive me.”

            He drew back to meet her eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive, Albany. You did nothing wrong. I was a complete and total ass. I reacted without thinking. Joe’s been kind enough to forgive me, and if you to do, I can die happy.”

            “Don’t die, silly.”

            “If you say you love me, I’ll live forever.”

            “You need some new lines, Milo Scarlet. And yes, I love you.” Giddy now that she was free to repeat what was in her heart, Albany hugged him back. “I do love you. A lot, in fact. To distraction. I’ve been a blithering idiot since day one; you didn’t recognize the signs because you didn’t know better.”

            “Since day one?”

She nodded against his neck. “I fell in love with you when you suggested you might be a white slaver. I couldn’t believe that anyone would ever say such a thing.” She sobered, catching his face in both hands and leaning back to meet his eyes. “But until you knew my history, until you knew what you were getting, I wasn’t going to say anything. And you can’t imagine what a struggle it was! How often I almost slipped.” She shook her head in awe. “But that’s behind me now.” She smiled up at him. “You know everything, and I hope you understand why I did it.”

            “I was so busy being an ass, the revelation took longer than it should have, but you were right, and I was a jerk. And you should know, I don’t care, Albany. In fact, I think you’re pretty amazing and the kind of woman I want Fanny to grow into. Now tell me again.”

            “I love you, Milo.”

            “I love you, Albany.”

            “Take me out to dinner, please. I need to be fed.”

            “Not until you tell me again.”

            “I love you, Milo. A lot.”

            His smile illuminated his entire being. “Fanny is going to be over the moon.”

 <0>

            Lying before the fireplace, wrapped in Milo’s arms, Albany tucked herself under his chin and launched into the narration of her early years.

 “I was very young when my brother, David, was killed…murdered,” she whispered. “Frankly, I don’t remember him, so it’s not like I feel I lost anything. How cruel does that sound? Of course, my father was arrested and put in jail. My mother and I were placed in a shelter. After two nights…she disappeared. The note she left said she wasn’t the one to take care of me, she said she was afraid I would wind up like David.”

Milo nodded. The note was still in the file, and he had read it with horror. The concept of abandoning a child was too alien to his mind. Unconsciously, his arms gathered her closer, protecting her after the fact.

Not insensible to his offering, Albany kissed his throat. “Where she is, I have no idea. I stayed at the shelter for another week before a foster home was found. They placed me with a family of three children, and I was the third foster. Six hungry mouths to feed and more on the way. I think they thought the older ones would take care of me. That fiasco lasted about three years. When Kaye became pregnant with baby number five, the state removed me and Georgette, leaving Kurt behind.

“I was six.”

Milo knew the next chapter of the story and moved to silence her. As he drew her face up to meet his lips, he forced the police reports from his mind’s eye. Learning that the parents of her next home were sexual predators had made him physically ill. Much of the report had been blacked out, but he knew all he needed to. He also knew that both ‘parents’ were serving consecutive terms and were unlikely to be released in the next decade.

He wondered if she knew her natural father had been released from prison, only to be arrested in Arizona less than a year later and was now serving a life sentence. He had toyed with the idea of locating her mother, but now that he knew her feelings, he saw no reason to.

“I was moved to the Conklin’s when I was seven. They were elderly and saw me as a means of supplementing their Social Security checks. It was no home. It was a holding cell. I counted the days until my eighteenth birthday and saved every penny I found. Music was all I had. I don’t mean to say that they were in any way cruel; they were just disinterested.”

She fell silent, and he simply held her.

“I would prefer that Fanny never know, if we can avoid it,” she finally whispered. “I know she’s mature for her age, but I’m terrified of appearing less than human in her eyes.” She looked up at him. “And yours.”

“The person who could blame you for any of this is clearly insane.”

“True. But shame takes many forms, Milo, and mine took years of therapy to sponge away. You cannot imagine what I felt when I called Joe. The thought of bringing it all up again, of you reading…” She faltered for a second before hurrying on. “I told her to say nothing, just write down what I told her and to make sure you got the file. It was like eating slugs.”

He wasn’t surprised when she whimpered and pressed her damp cheek against him.

“While you recover, my love, I will share my own tortured past, since you don’t know it yet.”

Drawing in a deep breath, he steeled himself and hurried through his admission.

“My twin sister, Elizabeth, Fanny’s mother, was murdered, along with her husband, Franklin. I was the unlucky one to discover their bodies. My brother-in-law’s business partner shot them, over some insignificant deal, and was in the act of arranging things to make the scene look like a robbery turned sour when I arrived. He was standing there, looking at me…like nothing had happened.”

He started back from Albany’s fingers on his face. She was brushing away tears he hadn’t known were there. Catching her hand, he kissed her fingertips and placed his Fate in her hands.

“I shot and killed him on the spot.”

Albany gasped, her arms around his neck tightening.

He nodded. “I shot him through the throat. The coroner said death was instantaneous. I’ll never forgive myself for that fact. I should have shot him in a dozen different places, starting with his hands.

“Anyway, the police were very understanding, if you can believe. They insisted my involvement was self defense. They wouldn’t let me talk and handled everything.”

He paused to kiss her head and his tone lightened. “One member of the investigation team was particularly worried about me. My defenses were so shattered he led me around for weeks like a man hypnotized. And while I can’t poetically declare he saved my life, I do owe Simon more than words can express.”

“Have you killed anyone since?”

“Yes.”

She grew still. “You’re not just a collector, are you?”

“I am a collector. If our government needs me, however, I make it my business to stay on their good side.”

Slowly, she nodded and then sat up to look into his eyes.

“I said I fell in love with you the day we met, and Milo, I have to say the reason, aside from your flippancy, was the trust you instilled in me. I don’t trust people, and now you know why. You stormed my defenses like no one ever could with nothing more than a smile. I trusted you, Milo, and that trust turned to love. That’s never happened before. And what is truly amazing, is I feel it every time I see you. I fall in love with you every day, Milo Scarlet. So, thank you for telling me the worst. Just never forget, I trust you.”

“I promise.”

 <0>           

            “You’re never going to believe what’s going to the block,” Milo gushed, catching her hand and pulling her from the elevator toward the living room. His excitement was contagious and she laughed as she tripped in his wake.

            “I want you to look at this.” He dropped onto the sofa before the open laptop, and she lowered herself beside him.

            He turned the screen, “Can you see?”

            “Yes. But what is it?”

            On the screen was a small, clear glass bottle, in a padded, red velvet-lined box. That it had borne a collar or label at one point was made clear by the broken ends of blue yarn that wound around the neck. Milo minimized the screen and brought up another. It was also a velvet-lined case, but blue velvet looked considerably newer. Nestled within the box was a pair of faded, paper labels.

            “Drink Me,” Albany read aloud. “Eat Me.”

            Something between terror and awe passed over her face and she looked at Milo. “From Alice in Wonderland?”

            “More correctly, Alice’s Adventures Under Ground, but yes! I bought the labels years ago. Everyone was convinced that they were party favors, or flat-out fakes, but look!” He pointed to the Drink Me tag were it might have been tied to the broken yarn. There was telltale, blue staining at the eyelet.

            “Milo...this is incredible. It’s like a piece of history, but not like something impersonal. Not like a Japanese sword with a curse by some unknown person. We know who this belonged to! We know what this could be! This is...it’s incredible.”

            Still grinning, he brought up the first screen and pointed to the item’s description. Dutifully, she read:

Stoppered (tin, threaded screw down) glass vial in fitted, velvet-lined box (cedar), circa 1862. Evidence of labeling (lost); residual liquid in bottle, contents unknown, not considered fit for consumption.

            She sat back. “On my God, Milo. There’s something in there!”

            “Doubtless some psychotropic,” Milo agreed, his black eyes locked on the bottle.

            “What’s the opening bid?”

            “A mere £100. Joe has orders to win it.”

            “Meaning?”

            “Meaning no limit. She gets the bottle or dies trying.”

            “When’s the auction?”

            Milo glanced at his watch. “Less than half an hour.”

            Albany shot up, charged with nervous energy. “And how long do you think it’ll last?”

            “Well, a casual glance will betray little enough; a Victorian glass bottle, nothing more. I’m sincerely hoping that no one has a clue what it is and we’ll slip under the radar. This could be the biggest bargain of my career—”  

            “And the greatest success.”

            He caught her hand, tugging her down. “No. You’re my biggest success.”

            Smiling, she dropped beside him. “Sweet talker.”

            He drew closer, kissing her neck, his voice soft and rich. “I bought two things for you today.”

            “You did?”

            “Well…maybe more for me than you. One you can see now, if you’d like?”

            She shivered as his bare hand reached under her blouse to skim up her spine. “And the other?”

            “Maybe later. It depends on how the first gift goes.”

            “That makes it sound like a reward.” He pressed his hand flat to her back and made broad strokes. Albany moaned, leaning into him.  “God, you feel so good.”

“Am I as soft as you?”

“Softer.”

            He chuckled. “That’s silly.” Rising, he asked her to wait and made for the master suite.

            “Where’s Simon?”

            “I gave him the night off.”

            “So we’re alone?”

            “Until lunch.” His voice faded into the distance.

            Nodding at the thought, Albany turned her attention back to the computer. Several minutes passed before she heard his approach. Looking up, her jaw dropped.

            “That’s exactly the reaction I was hoping for.” He chuckled, looking down at the black leather pants and then back at her.

            Albany continued to gape.

            “So...” he drawled, “you like ‘em?”

            “Only ‘til lunch, huh?”

            “Hmm? Oh.” One side of his mouth curled. “Or later. Simon won’t mind.”

            “And do you mind if I ruin them?”

            Milo shrugged, the shy smile growing. “I bought five pairs, each with your name on it.”  

 

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