Finding Maggie

Chapter Nine - Breaking Mikhail

Chapter Nine - Breaking Mikhail

Mikhail took a seat on Maggie's sofa while she disappeared into her bedroom. Several minutes later she returned, wearing a pair of comfortable yoga pants and matching top. Without a word, she marched into her kitchen and yanked a bottle of wine from her refrigerator. After grabbing two glasses and her cork screw, she returned to the living-room and took a chair across the room from Mikhail. She'd need some distance if she were to stay ahead of his charms.

Maggie poured out two glasses of her favorite zinfandel and set one glass on the coffee table for Mikhail to take if he wanted it. The other glass she kept for herself and slowly sipped it while she reorganized her thoughts. "Mikhail," She finally began, setting her wine glass down next to the other on the table. "I want you to tell me what's going on and I want the truth."

"Of course, Margret. I have never once lied to you and I don't plan on ever doing so."

"Be that as it may, there is some weird stuff going on with you and I deserve to hear it."

"Then ask away." Mikhail slowly unbuttoned his tuxedo jacket and slipped it off before he casually draped it over the back of the sofa.

"Who are you, really?" Maggie forced herself to not stare at Mikhail's chest and remain on target.  "Some sort of royalty, I assume?"

"Mikhail." He replied, giving her a cocky smile.

"Yes, Mikhail. But what is your last name?"

"If I had a last name, I suppose it would be Morningstar. Although I never use it." Maggie nodded and stashed his name away in her mind for later use. Finally, she felt like she was getting some real answers.  "What makes you think I'm royalty?"

"Your friends call you 'Sire'.  There must be a reason."

"Indeed."

"And just what exactly is it that you do for a living, Mister Mikhail Morningstar?"

"I have my hand in many things, Miss Margret Anne Sellers, too many to name off at the moment."

"Try." Maggie hated it when witnesses stalled on the stand but she had always had enough patience to wear them down.

"I dabble here and there in law, religion, politics, social justice, really I suppose I do whatever I want, when I want, for however long I want."

"That's pretty vague."

"I prefer to be a pretty vague person."

"And I'd prefer it if you weren't."

"Margret, I don't want to hurt you." His voice turned slightly pleading. He wanted to beg her to shut up. Stop asking so many questions. He was so damned close! "But, I'm afraid, that for the moment, you are not yet ready to deal with the sort of person I am. While I'm thoroughly enjoying our little chat, you'll have to accept my answers for what they are. I'm only trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?" Maggie was starting to get that itchy feeling in the back of her head. Usually it only came around when she was close to finding out the truth to one of her cases, and Maggie never ignored it.

"There are some things in this world most people do not accept as . . . justifiable. And, while I have nothing but the utmost respect and admiration for you Margret, I refuse to be the one to hurt you. That Jake fellow of yours obviously did quite a number on you already. I will, however, warn you now that the nagging feeling in the back of your head is correct."

Maggie faltered, unsure how to respond to Mikhail's words. Had she mentioned Jake to him already? She didn't think so. She never talked about Jake. Not ever. And how the hell did he know anything about her tingly senses? Maggie grabbed her glass of wine back off the table and took a long drink before pouring herself another. "Tell me who you really are."