His Glorified Maid

Thirty

Carlos eyed the bright red door. It may have been Luke's home, but Michaela's touch could be spotted in the details. It was bright, fiery, and made you smile despite yourself. Just like she did. He wondered what colour his door would be painted if she gave him a second chance. Not if, he repeated. When. He was used to getting his own way and this time would be no different.

When he brought his hand to knock on the door, he was disappointed to see Luke. He didn't have a chance to do or say anything as Luke slammed the door in his face. Actions spoke louder than words, he thought.

Knocking again, but this time with more force, he tried to keep his impatience at bay. He knew things would be smoother if he had Luke's forgiveness; a stepping stone to gaining Michaela's forgiveness for his insulting behaviour.

The door opened again. "I'm sorry if I wasn't clear when I slammed the door in your face. I'll be more direct. You are not welcome here."

Carlos saw the heat behind Luke's eyes and guessed he had his work cut out for him. Good thing he was an excellent negotiator. He put his hand up to stop Luke from shutting the door on him again.

"Stop. Please."

Carlos could see Luke considering him and he wasn't sure what he saw in him. He was used to giving away very little of his real thoughts, and yet he had the uncomfortable feeling that Luke saw everything.

He breathed a sigh of relief when after a tense few seconds Luke stepped aside to allow him entry. He guessed Michaela wasn't home, otherwise Luke would have stepped outside.

Carlos followed him past the lounge and into the kitchen. While his step never faltered, he took a silent moment to relive a past memory of Michaela dancing in the lounge. She had been mesmerising, lit with a freedom and joy that shone from her like a visible light.

First things first he thought and turned his mind back to the man in front of him. "Get it out," he demanded of Luke.

"You don't get to order me around in my home, Mr Everton."

"You didn't let me into your home to hear what I have to say."

"So smooth, aren't you? The celebrated bachelor whose arm has been adorned by so many frivolous beauties. You had a chance at something real, something tangible and lasting and you let it go. You let her go like an idiot."

Carlos heard the words, the same spoken by his own brother. He felt the disappointment under the derision and was lost. This was not the confrontation he had expected, had prepared for.

"And clueless too," Luke snorted in contempt. "You kept knocking down the boundaries she set and once she let you in, let herself fall in love, you crushed her with baseless accusations."

Love. There was depth to the simple word. She loved him. He could feel it in her look, in her touch, and when they'd finally come together. That was not just sex. God knows he had had his share of just sex. So why had he so readily believed the worst of her? He knew the answer to that too. He didn't trust that things could be that simple.

He broke her heart, he knew. Had seen it in her eyes despite her efforts to appear strong and it was that break that had hurt the man before him. He was going to make it right, he reminded himself.

"So, what are you going to do about it?"

"I can fix this," Carlos answered honestly. "Tell me where she is?" he asked softly. Carlos felt Luke's eyes on him as he considered the question, considered the worthiness of the man asking, and considered the ramifications of telling him.

Then he started talking. Luke was angry with him, but he hadn't closed the door on his efforts of pursuit, and he would forever be grateful. Michaela was tucked away at a summer camp working with kids. She was wonderful with Tyler. She'd be an amazing mother.

An idea started to form in his head. He needed to make some phone calls, needed Lawrence and Jenny's help and for the first time in days, he smiled feeling energised with the unshakeable belief that things would be all right.