Charisma opened her eyes slowly and looked around the strange room cautiously. Damn, it wasn't a dream. She really hoped that the events of the past twenty-four hours were some type of food induced hallucinations that would make her reconsider her decision of letting Marie coordinate the procurement of their materials. She couldn't attribute it to drugs or alcohol as she did neither. But everything was real, and there was no going back.
She'd awakened to a nightmare.
The small island of shopping bags in front of the closet piqued her curiosity. How had they gotten there without her knowing? She prided herself on being a light sleeper; a grandfather clock that ticked too loudly a few rooms away was enough to keep her up all night. That she'd slept through the sea of bags being placed in the room only served to remind her of the life she'd been thrust into.
There were thousands of dollars worth of clothes, hair products, and footwear in the bags. A pair of very nice and comfortable looking sneakers that had to be the same price as her living room couch rested on the top of two other boxes of expensive shoes. Everything, down to the lacy underwear she'd blushed over was designer. Charisma knew that the men were wealthy and could probably afford to buy a few small countries, but that still made her hesitant to wear the clothes. At the same time, the clothes she wore last night were nowhere to be found. If she expected to leave the room at any point, she had to wear the clothes.
It took her twenty minutes to find the bathroom, shower, dress, and head downstairs. There had to be some kind of maid or personal shopper in residence she had to thank. The clothes, while expensive, were simple and fit her style perfectly. The hallway was quiet, giving her and odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. Charisma wasn't scared, but she knew that something was off. As she continued her walk, she chalked her uneasiness up to being in a strange home for even stranger reasons.
A small black Schipperke sidled out of a room and looked at her curiously. Charisma smiled in greeting as she said, "Good morning, Euan." Was animal form the only one he'd take, she wondered.
"Good morning."
Charisma whipped around and felt her eyes widen at the sight of Euan standing a few feet behind her. She turned and looked at the dog then faced Euan once more. He was fully clothed. "Oh."
Awkward.
Euan smiled at the deep blush that took over Charisma's face. As a partial empath, he felt a flush taking over his skin as well. "Don't worry about it."
She only nodded as she turned to continue her journey downstairs. There was absolutely nothing she could say that would potentially get her out of trouble.
"Just so you know, I prefer being golden when in animal form. And my eye color never changes."
Charisma made a mental note of the information she was given before she continued on. She shook her head as she descended the stairs. The sounds of a television game show brought her to the kitchen. A large plasma screen television set was mounted over the large entryway. Save Euan, everyone was gathered around the large island. "Hello." As the men nodded in response, she moved to the seat Jameson vacated for her. "Thanks,' she murmured.
"Are you hungry?" Draco asked.
Charisma shook her head slowly. She rarely ever ate breakfast, primarily because she didn't like breakfast food. She loved to cook everything served at breakfast, but never cared for the taste.
When Jameson's arm brushed hers, she looked up at him. The deep stare he gave her sent shivers through her body. "Um, where is your maid?" She felt another flush take over her skin when the men simply stared at her. She'd never felt so vulnerable in her life. "It's just that I'd like to thank her for getting me all the clothes." There was another moment of silence as the brothers looked from her to Jameson and back. It was then that she realized that they didn't have a maid. Another blush took over her face.
"We'll thank her for you," Alexis said. He felt the sides of his mouth quirk up at the uncomfortable look on Jameson's face. "We need to discuss strategy," he added as a second thought. The statement was directed to his brothers.
Charisma watched the men stand and knew she had to do something before she lost her mind to anxiety. "Would you mind if I cooked?"
Roman stopped short and looked at her curiously as he said, "You can cook?"
She nodded slowly in response. Cooking was the one thing she knew she could control when life got out of hand. It was her sanctuary, her emotional outlet. The more she cooked, the calmer she felt. Even if she wasn't around her superior cutlery, an opportunity to calm down was much needed.
"Go for it," Roman said on a wink.
"Just don't burn the house down," Liam added, "I paid a lot of money for the crap you see in here."
Charisma only nodded as she frowned in confusion. She waited until the men left before she looked at everything she had to work with. The refrigerator was filled with almost every ingredient found in the supermarket. There was an extensive collection of cookware and spices and bless their macho hearts, they had the best appliances on the market. This wasn't her kitchen, but damn, it was close.
The next few hours were spent delicately mixing everything she needed for the large lunch/dinner she'd improvised. She didn't know if any of the men were vegetarians or vegans, so she created sides to satisfy all consumption standards. The more Charisma cooked, the calmer she became and the more she believed everything would work out. The only element missing was the calming polyphonic sounds of ancient chanting. She'd become obsessed with the unique form of music when she helped an old friend study for a music history exam and found that if she cooked while listening to it, she would create mouthwatering dishes. Not that what she currently cooked wouldn't be mouthwatering; it just wouldn't have the extra edge the music added.
Cooking brought her mind to her personal responsibilities. Marie had to be contacted as soon as possible; there was a chance that her overly-obsessive assistant would file a missing persons report if she thought anything was wrong. There was also the task of canceling any dinners she had planned. She'd let Marie take care of that.
Thoughts of her parents flooded her brain and for a moment, she considered contacting them as well. There was something about seeing Jameson with his brothers that made her long for a sense of family and belonging. Though she'd never really felt like part of her adoptive parents' family, especially after the death of her brother, she figured that it was never too late to try again. But did she really want to involve her parents in her life after everything she'd learned? It wasn't safe for anyone, especially her. No, she would wait until things were safer before she initiated contact. Marie would be the only one she called.
