Sarah inspected the table after Jack had set it, just as she always did. This annoyed Jack to great lengths, as he'd never once misplaced any piece on the table settings, but there Sarah was, with her measuring tape, making sure the silverware was placed exactly the right amount of centimeters apart from one another.
"Ma'am?" he sighed. His employer had a penchant for nervousness, which one most days he could ignore, but when she turned her attention on him, it drove him over the edge.
Sarah smiled. "I'm sorry, Jack. I know this bothers you. I am not making comments on your work, you know that."
Jack sighed again. "I know. But speaking of that, are you taking your medication?" Her medication made her sane, without it, she was a complete mess. It was nice being able to work with her when she was stable. He enjoyed her company immensely most days. But when she was like this, she'd usually spiral out of control, which was why it exasperated him. He had seen enough of her spiraling out of control to last a lifetime. And from where they were from, that was a very, very long time.
Sarah's smile faded. "Yes. Why does everything I do that you don't like have to do with me not taking my medication?"
"Because that," he pointed to her tape measure, "is a sign of your obsessive-compulsive disorder resurfacing." He was always nothing but blunt with her. Dancing around difficult subjects was for the past and they were expediting a trek into the future. He didn't have time for this.
"I am taking my medication, Jack. Every single day. Now shush," she growled at him and snapped her tape measure together and put it in her pocket.
He backed off and instead took his duster to give the room another once over before their guests arrived. "So, the boy."
"I told you last night, he's not the one."
"Yes, well, his place is still set at the table. Did you find a replacement?" He hoped she had. He really didn't want to have to clear away a place setting and start over from scratch. When Sarah had placed all the plates and silverware on the table for him to set an hour ago, he hadn't counted them right away. After he had finished, he counted and had realized the mistake. He considered not telling her, but knew if he didn't, she'd obsess all night about it. Not to mention they needed a boy for the evening's festivities. But not just any boy. The right boy. And after having Jude fail the day before, he started to wonder if the night was going to even happen.
"Yes. Emmanuel Buchannan will be bringing his nephew, Emmit." She smoothed her skirt for the hundredth time that day. Another sign of her affliction.
Jack let out the breath he had been holding. Thank goodness, he thought. He just hoped that Sarah knew what she was doing by bringing in a new boy so late in the game. He knew Jude would have eventually worked out, but they had a deadline to meet.
She reached over and rubbed his shoulder. "I know. Erasing Jude's memory proved to be harder than we anticipated. And I also know how much hard work you put in for me on a daily basis, Jack. I do ask a lot of you. But soon, it won't be necessary and everything will be in place."
Jack had worked all night into the morning trying to erase Jude's memory, taking each piece out bit by bit, but it seemed as though when one piece was removed, another would take its place. He had to erase large chunks at once, which scared him as he had never done that before on a human. He had no idea what the ramifications would be. But since Jude's brain proved to be difficult, he assumed it wouldn't do much of anything. Jack was more scared, but also secretly excited, at the thought of Jude's brain just replacing all the memories as soon as Jack was done. He patted Sara's hand. "Then everything can move forward as planned."
"That it can, my friend. That it can." She turned to the front door just as the doorbell rang. "Ahh, our first guests."
Jack nodded as he turned towards the front door. "Showtime."
"Mr. Harry Robson, ma'am," Jack announced the first guest to his employer.
"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Foster," Mr. Robson said as he gave a slight bow as he handed jack his coat and scarf.
Sarah held out her hand to her handsome guest, who took it and gave a soft kiss to her knuckles. She felt her face grow hot, but instead of ripping her hand away, she just nodded and smiled. If Sarah had learned anything in her many years on this planet, you didn't offend a guest. Especially not one you needed something from, even though she knew that Harry was overstepping his bounds, once again.
"Likewise," she replied. She gently pulled her hand back and use it to point to the table. "Please, feel free to have a seat. Your nameplate will let you know where to sit."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Assigned seats? Lucky me."
Jack pulled the third seat from the left facing them. "It's not a punishment, I assure you. You'll be busy once all the guests get here."
Sarah wondered if Jack knew what had happened between her and Mr. Robson during their last meeting. She hoped not.
The doorbell rang again and the butler left to respond to the bell. "Excuse me, sir."
Harry turned his attention to the mistress of the house. "So, you come here often?"
Sarah let out a small laugh, despite her uneasiness at seeing him again.
He motioned to the chair across from him. "Sit. Have a chat with me."
That wasn't Sarah's assigned seat. The idea of sitting in the wrong seat made her squirm. As did the thought of having a conversation with him, especially after what had happened between them the last time they were in each other's presence. But, she knew that upsetting him was not on the agenda tonight, so she pulled the chair out and smiled across the table to her dapper guest.
Harry had a large blackish-brown mustache with a twist at each end, something she only saw on the hipsters around town. Had she not already met him, she may have assumed he was one.
"So, thank you for inviting me back again. I was hoping you would." He took the glass on the table in front of him that was filled with iced water and brought it to his mouth for a sip.
Sarah blushed as she found herself staring at his lips as he did. She quickly looked down at her hands and started to babble. "Yes, well, you proved to be a good contender in this situation that we're in. You passed the first test. And now we're seeing if you pass the second."
He placed the glass back on the table. "Happy to oblige."
She looked up at him, at his perfectly manicured mustache, and then his lips again. She quickly brought her eyes up to his before he caught her staring at his mouth again. "Well, you do know what's at stake," she whispered barely loud enough for him to hear.
He nodded. "I do. Though, even if not, I would still come to dinner at your house. Perhaps even more so," he smirked.
She smoothed her skirt again for what felt like the hundredth time and then pulled her blonde hair over one shoulder to obsessively smooth it. She found herself wishing she had pulled it up into its usual bun or ponytail, which kept her from thinking about it. She was overheated and felt as though her hair was sticking to her face, which was making even her more squirmy than usual. She leaned across the table so she wouldn't be heard by anyone but him. "What happened between us last time cannot happen again, Mr. Robson. It was a mistake."
He leaned across his side of the table to stare into her eyes, which unnerved her a bit, which seemed to please him. "It was not. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."
"Mr. Robson..."
"Harry."
"Harry. You said you knew what was at stake here. So act like it." She abruptly stood from her seat and shoved her chair back into place. Harry was good at playing mind games. But this wasn't the time nor the place for it. Too much was going on. Too much could be lost if things didn't go right. And Harry better not mess this up.
"Mr. Buchannan and Emmit Matthews, ma'am," Jack gestured to their new guests.
Sarah switched her scowl to a smile and reached out to shake their hands. "Thank you both so much for coming. And you Mr. Matthews, we really appreciate you coming on such short notice. Otherwise, we'd have an empty seat at the table."
Mr. Buchannan smiled. "Well, we can't have that, can we? Ol' Emmit here was happy to come. He's never been a formal dinner before." He clapped his nephew on the back.
Emmit rolled his eyes at his uncle and pulled away from him a bit. "What my uncle means, is that I have never been to a formal dinner in such a beautiful house before. Tell me, Mrs. Foster, is this a family home?" he remarked as he glanced around the foyer hall.
Sarah looked at Emmanuel and searched his face for answers, who gave her a wide-eyed shrug. "Well, in a way, yes. It's so very complicated that we'll have to have another dinner party to explain it all. Come," she said as she gently took his shoulders and guided him to take his seat.
"Emmanuel, you obviously didn't tell him a thing, did you?" she whispered in Mr. Buchannan's ear as he passed by.
"Sorry ma'am, I knew you were in a hurry to find someone and didn't think to talk to him about it," he whispered back.
She drew in a sharp breath, knowing that if Emmit caused this entire night to not go off without a hitch, she wasn't going to be happy. But more so, she needed Jack to be happy. Tonight's outcome dictated his future. "Don't worry about it. We'll just move forward as planned."
The door rang again, this time the front door opening for four more of her guests.
"Winston Maltby, Eric Delagney, Benjamin Scott, and Clyde Cook, ma'am."
"Thank you, Jack. And welcome everyone. We are eager to get this night started so please hand Jack your coats and then take your places at the dinner table." Sarah could feel that her meds weren't working as well as usual and needed to go take something a little stronger, because her mind seemed to be spinning out of control.
She excused herself to the kitchen and placed a pill in her mouth and took a swig of water from the sink. She closed her eyes to calm herself. First Harry was trying to make something more out of their arrangement than it was. Then Emmit wasn't prepped before coming. When someone wasn't prepped, bad things can, and usually would, ensue. Just as it did with Jude. But Jude had been prepped. More than once. And still, he almost went crazy, which, in retrospect, didn't make much sense. But she had to be extra careful because before Jude, there was Nathanial. And she didn't want what happened to Nathanial to happen to Jude. And now Emmit. God, if Emmanuel would have just prepped Emmit, this wouldn't be an issue right now. But, if they waited to another night, they'd lose one of the nights of the full moon and that would seriously lessen their chances of thing going at all. Sarah wanted to scream. There was no good answer here. No good choice to make.
The bell rang again. It must be Logan Curtis, the eighth, and last, guest.
After a few moments, she heard Jake's voice from the hallway. "Ma'am, we're ready."
Well, it was now or never. "Coming," she answered back. She turned and made her way down the ornate hall that filled with gorgeously striped wallpaper and dark wood wainscoting, and then back into the dining room and plastered a big smile on her face for her guests. She could feel the Xanax easing her mind back down to normal again.
"Well now, looks like we're all here," she said in her most cheery voice. "So, let's get this party started shall we?" She motioned to Jake to start serving the courses as she took her seat at the head of the table.
But just as Jake turned to leave, the doorbell rang again. He turned to look at Sarah, who stared back at him. Both were thinking the same thing: who would be ringing the bell now? Everyone is already here. Her stomach turned in knots as went to the front door.
Seconds later, he appeared with a horrible look on his face. "Ma'am. We have another guest."
Sarah laughed nervously. "No, we don't. We're all here."
"Jude Adams, ma'am. He's come back."
Sarah had to swallow back the bile that was creeping up her throat when she saw the fileman appear behind Jake's back.
"Hey. Looks like I'm late for the party." Jude had grabbed a seat from the hallway and had pushed himself in between Winston and Clyde at the table, who's faces looked more confused than turkey who was about to be deheaded for Thanksgiving dinner. "So, what'd I miss?"
Check out Part 3: The Dinner, here!
Check out Part 1: The Octury, here!
