D:CM Dream Reader

PREVIOUS (Interlude: Matchmaker)
Amy hesitated at the door of the Head of Group’s study, looked between Valerie’s now carefree figure dancing down the back stairs and the sheaf of papers annulling her marriage. Amy had thought Sherman and Valerie were just two very-like minded jerks. What if that had been Jeriah and her in a few years?
She looked back at Grandmother, who was still waiting for her to leave to call her grandchildren in for the second part of the surprise. “Martin mentioned I should try the maze sometime. Could I?”

“Be my guest. Do you have a contact number if you get lost?”

She almost checked, then tucked her phone away. “I don’t need one. He’ll find me.”

Grandmother smiled. “If he does, I hope you will still come around for our walks.”

“I will.”

That had been an entire quarter hour ago.  

What if he just doesn’t care enough? 

She wandered down the path around the garden that she had taken with Grandmother only yesterday. Anxiously, she glanced at the time and then back in the direction of the Mansion. Grandmother had said she had other things to discuss, and was giving her a bit of a lead—but how much? Maybe Grandmother had already told him, and he just didn’t care. Gareth’s words a few weeks back haunted her: 

He’s in love with his work, Amy. There isn’t room for anything or anyone else.

She wandered into the maze, turning the corners without regard, more concerned that she was lost in her depressing thoughts than in a garden maze.

Suddenly, a wonderful birdsong came to life—not from the bush beside her, but from the phone in her hand. She picked up immediately. 

“Hello?” 

“Amery, thank goodness. Where are you?”

She could hear him running as he asked and the relief in his voice the moment she picked up.

“The maze behind the mansion. But uhm… I-I’m a bit lost,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Have you run into any landmarks? Anything stand out to you?”

She turned a corner, and just down the path was a small clearing with a giant cherry tree in full bloom around her. 

“Cherry tree,” she said in a daze, wandering into the canopy of pink. 

“Stay there.” 

She plopped herself on a bench at the corner of the clearing and watched. Her phone was silent at her side, but she was no longer anxious, just staring at the sky and watching the birds overhead. Her heart had grown little fledgling wings in her chest. The sky was clear, obscured only by the lively pink of the cherry blossoms. The sun was warm, and the wind was a gentle breeze—just enough to cool and refresh, but barely enough to flutter the cherry petals. It would be a wonderful place to bring a book out. 

“Hey.” 

She glanced up, and her heart leapt into her throat and tears sprung into the corners of her eyes. She smiled.

“I’m getting a sudden sense of deja vu,” Jeriah said off-handedly, sitting down next to her.

“Why’s that? I’m pretty sure you’ve never had to come searching for me before.”

“I think our reunion after high school went something like, ‘Amy was birdwatching and tripped over a sleepy college student doing his readings out in the park on campus.’ Old acquaintances reunited, instant chemistry, proposal, annoying cousins, meddling grandmothers, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure I wrote it more eloquently,” she retorted.

He was gazing at her with an incredible grin, like he was happy just to see her again. She hoped that was what he thought as well.

“Here,” he said, handing her a dream-reader headset. 

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t have a compact dream-reader on you in the backstory.” 

“I forgot to return it,” he answered the question behind the comment. “And it happened to be in my bag today.” 

“Are you sure I have permission to read this data?” She really didn’t understand him. First thing after chasing her down after his grandmother’s scheme was to talk about work? He really was a workaholic.

“Permission given,” he said carelessly. That was when she noticed that there wasn’t a memory card in the reader at all, and that the other end was linked up to him. 

“Ready?”

The last time she had touched a dream-reader machine just to read someone’s mind, she’d gotten her boyfriend convicted of animal abuse, sexual harassment and manslaughter. She had still loved him then—thought she’d loved him. 

Jeriah isn’t Cyril, Amy reminded herself. She cleared her mind as best she could and with her heart thumping loud enough to drown out her other thoughts, she pressed the start key. 

After a few initial questions about basic profile information just to calibrate their thoughts, she turned to the question as to what they were doing:

“Ok. What do you want me to ask you?”

“Anything.” I just want you to be able to trust what I say. I had seen your dream-reader interview; it’s only fair.

“Oh.” Amy paused. She had started tapping notes out on the the emotional valence chart, marking what she could for ease of future readings. 

“No one’s going to read this afterwards,” he commented. “It’s not being saved.” 

Amy stopped correcting mental referrals with names with the realization and just focused on the thoughts and emotions showing up. What questions did she have for him? She had stopped wondering what she would ask if she could to hear their inner feelings on it as well. Finally, she found something innocent to start with: “Who did the interior decorating at your apartment?”

“What?” That’s what she wants to know?! What in the world. Is this another calibration test?

Amy offered an explanation: “The only thing Ryan ever said about you was that your apartment has great interior design. I guess I should ask what you talked about that time she was over, but—“ She was rambling. She stopped, and started listening to the thoughts and reading the valences showing up on the screen in front of her eyes. 

I guess I should say Lynna? “Lynna did, technically. I did make a general request.” Bookshelves, desk. Ryan and I only talked about what Amy and I had talked about earlier. 

“Right. And how’d you get here so fast?”

“I explored a lot of the maze when I was a kid.” Thankfully you didn’t wander anywhere I didn’t recognize and remember. And is this seriously the only kind of questions she’s going to ask?

Amy laughed at the partially perplexed, partially exasperated tone his thoughts had. Then she remembered something serious. 

He tensed up, feeling the feedback in her change in mood.

“Where are you on Tuesday evenings when you get back late?” 

“Tuesday evenings?” He didn’t seem to feel guilty, just surprised. His thoughts traced through a typical Tuesday, from home to the lab, from lab to dinner, and dinner down to South district—“Oh, data collection.” She got glimpses of a memory—the apartment, computers. Her eyes—Amy was surprised she showed up in the trace at all. “Remember that time I brought a trace home and you helped me translate it? I thought it was some kind of social anxiety but you looked at it and recognized PTSD right away?”

With the help of the memory glimpses, she remembered. “The night I asked why you wanted to be Head anyways.” 

Amusement. Guilt. Resolution. They flickered quickly over the emotional valence measure before he responded. “Yeah. There was a participant that had injured her legs but really wanted to finish the experiment. So Dr. Syis asked someone to take one of the compact dream-readers out to finish.”

There were glimpses of the South district streets, and the inside of the house she had seen. There was a memory of a beautiful girl with bronze skin in a wheelchair. She was hooked up to the dream-reader and had tears on her face as she talked. Your ring— are you married?

I’m going to be. She caught a glimpse of herself. There was a rush of pride and affection. Then confusion at his own feelings.

I always wanted to get married. But like this…I don’t think I can. I hope you’re happy together. 

Thank you. His thoughts hesitated. At least, he was happy? He couldn’t speak for her.

The memory continued, but Amy cleared her mind before she felt like she was intruding more. She’d seen enough to answer her question. He noticed a fresh feedback loop and stopped the memory.

“Why? Where did you think I was on Tuesday nights?”
She realized she was blushing and pressed the hold key on the dream-reader to avoid sharing her reaction with him back through the link.

“Nothing, nowhere, it’s…Gareth and I had the wrong idea.” She looked for something else to talk about before releasing the key. 

“Amery, did you really think I was frequenting a brothel?”
She didn’t reply but knew he could feel her embarrassment.

Is that really the image I give off?

“Anyways, where did you think I was the nights I got back late?”

“Meetings? Hanging out with friends? I didn’t want to pry.”  Amy’s too honest to do what she thought I did. 

“Kinda. I went on walks with your grandmother.”

“Oh.” 

His mental surprise was so alarming and in contrast to his soft utterance that Amy chuckled at the traitor thoughts.

She stared at the trace on the screen of the headset, fascinated by the valences and side thoughts. Being inside his head was like learning about someone new. The thoughts were so familiar, yet the emotions that held them together were so overwhelmingly strong and unlike him. She traced the emotional valences. “Did you have anything to ask me?”

There was a question in his mind, but he wasn’t putting it into clear terms.

“Go ahead.” 

“Who’s Cyril?”

Amy steadied herself and reversed the link to show him her own memories. 

“My ex.”

She showed Jeriah the story: how Cyril used to flatter her, buy her gifts, adore her—or at least act like he did. Then she’d convinced him to let her hook him up to a dream-reader. 

“It was my fault. I broke my own fantasy.”

She showed him the dissected woodpecker Cyril’d given her for their anniversary, and the tall tales he spun. And then how he’d set fire to the lab and nearly killed someone. So she had stood in front of a jury, and testified against him. The last time she had seen him, it was through the bars of a courthouse 
jail cell, and it had been to break things off formally. 

She finished, and realized how simple it was to sum up her relationship with Cyril. She’s shown the counselor the story and the police his crimes. Ryan had known from being with her through it all. But it had never seemed so simple to explain to someone what still hurt and what didn’t. She felt a sense of relief. 

“You were looking for stability,” Jeriah realized. She was watching his feed again. That’s why the money doesn’t matter. There was another trace of a feeling—realization, sympathy. “I’m sorry. What happened to you.” You didn’t deserve that, and you didn’t do anything wrong. Yet…I’m glad you’re here now. There wasn’t pity in the thoughts though, and her catharsis felt better. She didn’t want pity. She wanted a fresh start. And she’d finally been able to explain it without confusion or tears or anger.

“What are you going to do now?” she felt lighter.

“That depends.” On what you’re going to do.

“I didn’t take your grandmother’s money,” she pointed out.

I know. Please. I know it’s selfish, but read me. I just want you to know that I wish it wasn’t an act anymore. There are feelings behind them now. 

Read him? Wasn’t that what she was doing? She traced her eyes along the emotional valences that were fluctuating through his mind now. Nervousness. Excitement. Anticipation. The willingness to accept whatever answer she had for him.

Amy closed her eyes and pressed the end button. She slipped the gear off her head.

“Amery?”

“You call me Amy in your thoughts.”

“Yeah.” 

She knew what he wanted to tell her, and she wanted him to know that she trusted him enough to hear him just say it. Words should be enough to carry their message. She heard him pull off his headset and abandon the machine in a little pile of wires between them. She opened her eyes, not to screens and lines and graphs, but to the clear gray color of his irises. 

“Amy.”

“Jer. What did you want me to hear?”

He hesitated, then took her hands in his own and tugged her gently close to him. 

“Would you stay with me?”

“Yes.”

Notes:
Final Word Count: 20,510
I originally wrote out the entire chase sequence in which they kept missing each other and finally ended up finding each other on campus because they realized they were both workaholics. But I realized that it really did nothing in terms of pacing because we know he went to look for her and that she was waiting for him to. So phone to the rescue!

The idea with the dream reader was actually written early on and then edited for this scene. I’m actually really satisfied with the way it came out ^^


Anyways, that’s the end of Contract Marriage! Comments, lingering questions, anything would be appreciated! :D

D:CM Interlude: Matchmaker

PREVIOUS (Better Deals)
“I sent them away.”

“What?”

Sherman stared at the divorce papers and the ring in the envelope. He sighed with resignation. 

“What did you offer her?” Sherman asked, a smirk on his face. 

“I offered them credit cards. All charges paid for, no expiration or blackout dates.”

 Jeriah was stunned in place, his breathing suddenly shallow. “Amery didn’t take it,” he breathed, more to convince himself than anyone else. No. She couldn’t have. Had he overestimated? He hadn’t told her yet—had he been wrong to wait?

His grandmother handed him the envelope he had been to scared to open. 
He was going to wait until after the announcement was made. When it was all over, and she knew he had no more reason to lie. He cut the envelope open and a rose-gold ring with inlaid diamonds fell out. 

He remembered the day they’d gone to get the ring resized. Gareth had teased him about getting his own fiancé’s ring size wrong. Amery had giggled at their banter. Was he never going to hear that lilting laugh again? 
Behind him, Gareth snickered at his distress. Lynna shushed him with bated breath. 

Behind the ring was a burgundy and gold card, entirely untouched. He could almost hear her voice that morning: It’s not about the money, Jer.

“Where is she?”

“She just left… oh, about 15 minutes ago,” Grandmother commented nonchalantly.

He was gone, his phone against his ear before he was out the door.

Behind him, his grandmother’s face glowed with warmth and fondness.

“I never knew you liked to play matchmaker, Grandma,” Lynna commented. 

“I never knew it how much fun it was. Maybe since I’m retiring I can do more of it and make sure my grandchildren don’t have terrible marriages like my children do.” Grandmother’s eyes were soft as she gazed outside the window. 
“Now, about you and Ms. Norton….”

NEXT (Dream Reader)

Notes:
Ok I know this is just cheese now, but this was also really fun to write. 

D:CM Better Deals

PREVIOUS (The Head of the Krovstoff Group)
Valerie and Amy walked tensely side-by-side behind Grandmother. The moment they were in the study, Grandmother handed them both burgundy-and-gold credit cards. Amy turned the card in her hand over. All charges paid for, no expiration or blackout dates. She could never want for anything again. 

“Thank you Grandmother,” Valerie said, taking the card and a sheaf of forms with it. Amy caught word “Divorce” written in bold legal print on the forms as Valerie signed her name and slipped her wedding band into the small envelope on top of the signed forms.

“A car to the airport has been arranged. Simply tell the pilot where you wish to go.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Krovstoff.” They shook hands and Valerie turned to Amy. “If we run into each other again, I hope it will be over a bowl of ice cream or something friendly, Amery.” 

“O-Of course.” They shook hands. Valerie waltzed out of the back door to the room, and Amy felt like she only finally understood why Grandmother had called Sherman and Valerie the two-faced couple.  

“Amery? Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

“No, thank you for everything,” she said, sliding her envelope onto the table.

NEXT (Interlude: Matchmaker)

Notes:
This scene was really fun to write, and was my version of “money or love?”.

D:CM The Head of the Krovstoff Group

PREVIOUS (Interlude: Guilt)

The next morning, Amy tried to pretend everything was normal. She felt a drag in her step, and her fingers trembled as she tried to do her hair after breakfast.

“Here.” Jeriah sat her down by the couch and brushed his fingers softly through her hair, pulling it into the look she had been following a guide for. 

Amy leaned quietly against his leg as he did her hair, savoring this moment together. Would this be their last time sitting here like this? They watched A Murder Most Fowl from here, and discussed transliteration graphs together from here. So many memories had taken place around this small apartment over the last month. 

“Done,” he said finally, quietly. His fingers lingered on her head, and she didn’t move away. She tried to compose her face before she looked up at him. He glanced down. “What do you have that look for?” 

“Lynna said you used to do her hair and nails as well,” Amy said, covering her worry up with a joke and a smile. 

“Lynna’s saying unnecessary things again,” he remarked after a pause. 

“But you just did my hair.”

“It was all a long time ago.”

“I think you’re just shy,” she said with a playful grin. “Come on, it’s nice.”

He turned his face away, but couldn’t hide the blush entirely. “Not everyday ok?”

She wondered if he’d be able to keep that promise. 

“Jer?”

“Hm?” He didn’t seem to notice the change. 

“Even if…things don’t work out. I’ll be here, ok?”

“Listen, if things don’t work out, pawn your ring for cash. Sherman and Gareth have both promised to make my life miserable, so there’s nothing in it for you.” He sighed, like he had finally gotten something off his mind. She knew there was another reason for it, but for now, all she could feel was hurt, like she’d been rejected. 

Gareth burst into the room, groaning and stretching. “Are you guys flirting this early in the morning? Give me a break, Amy, de—I mean, just Amy. Give me a hand with my tie, would you?” He was dressed nicely too, and he seemed very awake, if a bit nervous.

“I’ll do it.” Jeriah moved away from her and went to help his cousin. Gareth made a few teasing remarks that neither of them heard or paid attention to. 

Amy spent the rest of their time at the apartment trying to engrain the sight of light speckled on the scene and the warmth in her heart. She double checked to make sure she had the spare key and her phone in her bag. Then, in a last effort, she tried to cover her forlorn heart with a smile over her face. “We should go.” 

The three of them made their way to the family mansion in silence, too tense to really talk. Jeriah stared out the window of the near-empty train, his gaze focused on something in the distance. His hand lay open, palm up on his leg. She took it, lacing her fingers through it.

“It’s not about the money, Jer,” she whispered. He glanced at her, surprised, but squeezed her hand affectionately. 

They arrived at the mansion, where there was already a small crowd of reporters. A few reporters looked up eagerly, but Martin, standing guard by the door, had obviously already told them that anyone who harassed the family members coming earlier would be dismissed and banned from covering the event.

 The family gathered in a large conference room. Most of them were already gathered. 

“Lynna!” Amy greeted, seeking out her friend in the silent room.

“Hi Amy! Hey Jer. Gareth, you look so grown up,” Lynna chuckled. Amy took her hand and noticed Lynna was shuddering slightly. From the surface though, Lynna was the same, enthusiastic girl that Amy loved and everyone else seemed to not. 

“What are you doing here?” Gareth asked, more confused than upset. 

“I’m allowed to attend family events,” Lynna teased. 

“What he should have said was, why’d you bother coming?” a snub voice commented beind them. Sherman and Valerie had joined them. “We’ve got this Head business taken care of. You young ones can go play or something.”

“It looks like everyone’s here, doesn’t it?” Amy said nervously in response. She looked around for Martin, who should have followed the last people in. 

“Everyone, please be seated.” a majestic voice commanded, sweeping into the room. The family gathered around the table, standing at attention as Grandmother entered. She took a stance behind a podium and greeted everyone in turn. Grandmother ran through the orders of business quickly and briefly. 

“And of course, the matter of the next Head of the Group.

“I had made this decision quite a while ago actually, and certainly before arriving here.”

The family members bristled a little. Amy glanced around and caught sight of Sherman and Valerie looking entirely too sure of themselves. 

“Lynna, if you would stop by afterwards, I’d like to sign everything over sooner rather than later.”

Sherman’s smile froze on his face. 

“Yes, Grandma.”

Gareth’s face was almost comical. “Lynna? But she’s—you pulled her access to the accounts long ago!”

“And I restore them all now. Lynna was never exiled from our family, as many of you seem to have forgotten.”

“But Grandmother, surely you should pick someone the family is used to working with. Someone who has had experience with the group, and someone who we can esteem.” 

“And what, hand my company over to someone who would destroy the foundations I built it upon or someone who would drive it to the ground with nothing but good intentions?” Grandma scoffed. “Lynna has proved her capacity in business as well as her character. You should learn to esteem her for that.” 

Grandmother turned to Jeriah, who Amy noticed had been equally surprised, but whose smile was getting wider by the word. “And you—I’ve seen your publications. There is no need for you to leave a field you so clearly thrive in. And I do believe this accomplishes what you were after anyways.” 

Jeriah looked like head was about to burst into peals of laughter. “Yes, Grandmother,” he answered. 

“Good. If anyone has objections, you may form a queue by my study. I will address questions before the press conference. First, I would like to speak first with Valerie and Amery, then the rest of my grandchildren.”

NEXT (Better Deals)

Notes:

>:D #LynnaForHead!

This is also the wonderful deus ex machine ending I came up with XD

D:CM Interlude: Guilt

PREVIOUS (Walk in the Park)
“It’s called guilt.” Ryan handed Jeriah a sentence with the ice cream. “Maybe you’re finally starting to feel bad about what you’re doing to her.” She hung her apron uniform inside the kitchen and called to her dad that she was heading out. “I’ll walk you to the station, Krovstoff. I’ve got some bugs to fix with you.”

“It’s like I’m a program,” he joked nervously, following her. “Bugs to fix.”

“Hah. Did Amy tell you that one?”

“No?”

Ryan considered it as she led him along a shortcut. “Maybe she’s rubbing off on you. She told me the same thing before.” Ryan glanced to the side. “Ice cream tastes better when it hasn’t melted.”

“Right.” He took a spoonful nervously. “What did you want to know?”

“You had a few conditions for Amy when you started this whole contract. Do your conditions apply to you as well?”

“I guess? I mean, why would I need her to be my fiancé if I had an actual girlfriend? I’m pretty sure you’re not asking about my educational plans either.”

Ryan considered this carefully, scrutinizing him as they walked. They were nearly to the train station. 

“I’ve heard some things about your cousin’s…business endeavors.”

“They’re over,” Jeriah assured her firmly. “And Gareth’s definitely learned from his mistake.” He wasn’t actually sure of that, but he wasn’t going to let anyone know his uncertainty. He’d talk with Gareth later.

“Of course. I’m just questioning if it’s a trend in the family.”

“I work in a lab,” he told her flatly. “Lab manager in for Fair Ridge’s Dreams Lab, department of psychology.”

He wasn’t sure that that was all about, but Ryan seemed to accept it.
They were at the station. “I’m not going to get in the way of your act,” Ryan said in parting. “You don’t seem like a terrible person. But I think Amy would appreciate if you told her a bit more.”

The train pulled in with a roar, and Ryan waved goodbye before he could yell a question back to her. On the train back, he puzzled over Ryan’s advice before storing it in the back of his mind for later musing. 

With Grandmother publicly announcing her intention to retire and the heir to the Krovstoff Group tomorrow, the quiet murmuring of the various relatives had turned into full-on squabbling, making the now almost nightly dinners or meetings even more difficult.

Last evening he’d talked to Grandmother, confirmed that he was interested in taking over, and had a patient discussion with her about plans and policies. It didn’t really matter to much to him; his first actions as Head would enable him to relinquish most of that anyways. The press though, had other ideas. He, Gareth and Sherman had been coaxed into interviews. There had been plenty of parties to stand and smile though, and when he got to work the next morning, he still had to deal with finishing treatment sessions for the projects he was on at work.

Jeriah trudged back to his apartment with a furrow in his brow and unlocked the door with a sigh. The  living room was empty, but another pair of shoes told him that Gareth was lurking around. He glanced at the clock. Amery was late out. 
He hung his bag up and washed his hands in the kitchenette sink. 

“Hello, Amy!” Gareth waltzed into the room. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“This has been the 6th time or so. I ought to stop assuming its her,” Gareth mumbled. He grabbed a bottle of beer and seated himself on the island counter, watching Jeriah get dinner ready. “You can cook?”

“Not usually. Kevin cooked when he was around, and Amery said she cooks when she’s stressed.”

“Wow. She deserves so much better than you.”

“She really does.” 

Lynna’s verdict on Amery had been pretty clear too: 

“She’s cute. I like her. But Jer, why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?”

He had fidgeted like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. “Lynna, our relationship isn’t exactly a typical engagement….“

“Never mind.” She had seemed to understand what he meant before he even mentioned it. Lynna had seemed hurt too. “Did you choose her?”

“Yes.”

“And did she accept you?”

“I think so.”

“Then that’s all I need to know.”

Maybe Lynna had a point. Whatever happened afterwards, as long as they continued to walk side-by-side…that would should be ok, right? Was it impossible that he’d end up actually loving for the woman he intended to marry just for show?

Or maybe he should just let her go. She was too nice to leave on her own. But she deserved so much better than someone like him, and he recognized it.
But there was something that had to be done. And thanks to Grandmother liking Amery, that goal was so much closer to being accomplished. Even that thought didn’t completely squash his guilt anymore though. He really ought to call it all off and assure her he’d figure the rest out somehow. But part of him wished that she would stay around. 

“Cousin.”

“What?” He’d forgotten Gareth was in the room with his thoughts.

“Give up.”

“No.” Jeriah sighed. “Not as long as your conditions stand.”

“I’m still cutting off your research funds, if that’s what you’re still on about.” Gareth replied coldly. “And as for Lynna…I’d be doing her a favor. No one in the Group’s talked to her for years. She hardly comes to family functions anymore. As is she’s only a freak smearing the family name.”

“Lynna was never exiled from the family,” Jeriah replied. “You know that. I’ll make them recognize her.”

“By what? Crashing the rest of the Group?”

“And what about you?”

“At least I can manage a hotel.” 

“Really. I thought that was a brothel. An illicit, just-off-campus brothel 
manipulating underfunded girls.”

“Hey, I gave them a way to make money. There were flexible schedules, and everyone’s identity was tightly secured.” Gareth glared him down. “I just can’t believe you told Grandmother about that and got it shut down. Think of the poor employs who suddenly lost their income! And I was making profit off of it.”

“You need to stop thinking like that. It hurts the group’s name.”

“Do you know what you sound like? Everything’s about the name, and not the individual people do you, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. It’s individual people who are getting hurt when you think you’re doing them a favor, and individual members of the family that are feeling the effects of stains to the name. That’s the only reason why it matters.”

“And only individual people like me who are slighted when people tattle on them to the head.” 

For a while, there was only the sound of the stove. Jeriah drew a thin breath. “I didn’t tell her.”

“You…didn’t?”

“I don’t have time to be reporting every little thing to Grandmother, believe it or not.” 

“Who’d you tell then?”

“Lynna. But do you really think Lynna would go reporting to Grandmother?”
Gareth glowered at the island countertop. 

The door opened to reveal the best resident of the apartment. “I’m home!”

“Welcome back.” Jeriah glanced over, and something seemed off about her. Her mascara was a little smudged. Had she been crying? She hung her bag up next to his.

“Hi Jeriah, Hi Gareth! Are you guys making dinner?” 

“Yeah. Nearly done. You can relax.”

“Do I have time for a quick shower? I’m kinda sweaty.”

“Go ahead.” He glanced over again as she disappeared into his room with an extra bag in her hands. Oh, that was it. She’d changed from the clothes she was wearing at work. The shirt-slacks combo was a little more formal than what people in the Dreams Lab usually wore. He wondered where she had gone. A meeting? 

Amery was probably dead tired after a long day at work and a meeting afterwards, but when she got out of the shower, she greeted everyone with a smile again before heading straight for the economics textbook.

Jeriah really admired that— the way she always put on a brave face and showed him a smile. He couldn’t imagine she had things easy, work and then studying whenever she wasn’t being dragged out to dinner with some relative or another. He remember how cold his parents had been and how downright rude Sherman and Valerie had been. He was used to it, but Amery didn’t deserve any of that abuse. 

What did he expect? That his parents would suddenly be warm because he brought a girl with him? That his relatives wouldn’t be so hostile if it was someone outside the Group? Amery would mumble a few choice things at home, but she always kept a patient face on outside, and she always found time to check up on him. 

Amery was so distracted over dinner, she didn’t seem to notice the silence between the two boys that she usually did. 

“Thank you for the meal,” she said. Her smile was forced. What had happened? 

“Leave it. I’ll wash,” he offered. 

“No it’s ok, you cooked.”

“I don’t mind.” He poured hot water over a portion of tea leaves he’d set out before. “Here. Just relax tonight.”

“O-Okay. Thanks.” Amy perched on a chair by the kitchenette island. She sipped nervously, shuffling nervously in her seat.

Jeriah searched for something to fill the silence. “I talked to Ryan today.”

“Really?” Amy perked up.

“Well, I went to get ice cream.” 

“Oh.” Amy giggled, seeming more relaxed already. “Thanks. For trying to get 
along with my friends.”

Jeriah was a little caught off guard by how quickly she saw through him. “Not that it did anything. She doesn’t talk about herself at all. She seemed well enough though.”

“Yup! She’s been really excited to be working with Lynna on Passion Fruit stuff.”
Gareth interrupted. “Ryan’s your trans friend, right?” He scoffed. “They would get along. Qu—”

“Gareth, kindly remove yourself if you can’t manage to be civil.”

“What do you mean?” Amery asked.

“Let me guess. Miss Norton also happens to be gay.”

“No, she’s bi. What does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” Jeriah seethed. Gareth laughed. 

“Amy, darling, my cousin never told you why his sister isn’t part of the running for Head of the Group, did he? Well, before you decide to marry this uncommunicative jerk—“

“Wait.” Amery help up her hand, stopping him. “It’s late, I’ve had a long day, and I’d much rather not deal with your family drama right now. I’m going to bed, and Jeriah can tell me when he thinks I need to know.”

She got up, leaving both boys stunned where they were. 

“Amy, cupcake, you’re making a mistake. Why do you keep siding with him?”
She whirled. “I am not your cupcake, darling, dear, sweet, or whatever other terms of endearment you have. Leave. Us. Alone.”

Gareth stared after her. “Did Amy just…get mad?”

Jeriah stifled his laugh and moved to follow her. He was probably going to get harangued the moment he walked through the door, but right now, he was swelling with pride. “Isn’t she great?” 

Amery was crawling into bed when he entered the room. 

“Hey?”

“Oh. Hi.” She held up a candle that had been waiting for her on top of the made 
blankets. “Did you make the bed and leave this for me?” 

“Yeah. Who else would have?”

“Good point. Thanks. I like this scent.”

“No problem. I get discounts at Passion Fruit.”

 “Right…” she shifted from foot to foot nervously. 

Jeriah was surprised she wasn’t angry. “Just let me brush my teeth and get a shower. Don’t fall asleep.” 

She crawled onto the bed and pulled her textbook onto her lap. “Ok.” 
Jeriah tried not to take his time showering, but he used the time to figure out how he was going to say tell her the story. He didn’t need a dream-reader to know she’d be livid when she heard it. “Sorry I took so long.”

“No problem.” She set the book aside immediately and he sat on his cot. 

“I’m just going to be direct.”

“Please do.”

“Lynna came out about 5 years ago. The older folks in the Group didn’t think too highly of that. Grandmother didn’t exile her from the family, but she did pull her access to most of the Group’s funds. You asked me why I was gunning for the Head position so much despite being in a different field.” He shrugged. “The Head controls most of the assets to the Group, so they get to make some pretty arbitrary decisions about the family: who gets what access, who’s in charge of different divisions,  who has to be married or graduated before they can contend to be the next Head….”

She understood. “…Who’s welcomed at family reunions and to be respected.” 

“Exactly.”

“And Gareth has something against Lynna, I guess.”

“Something like it. He thinks she should just cut ties with the family altogether. And if she doesn’t do it, he will.”

“What about Sherman? He’s also a popular contender, right?”

Jeriah scowled. “Sherman hates all of us. Anyways, Gareth and I would both 
hate him as Head.”

“I…see.” Amery pulled the covers around her, thinking things over quietly. 
“That’s why you’ve both been so excited that Grandmother likes me.”

“It contributes to it,” he admitted. “I’m mostly just glad you’ve somehow found 
someone to like in all of my family.”

“I like Lynna,” she pointed out quietly. “And I like you.”

They stared at each other for a heartbeat, not sure how to interpret it. She liked him? Actually liked him? He—spoiled rich kid who couldn’t be dragged out of his lab or apartment for anything else— was likable?  He wasn’t sure which of the words to emphasize. The entire concept seemed ludicrous. Yet he felt happy about her choice of words, and very confused at his giddiness. 

He picked up his book. “Get some rest. We’ll be seeing her tomorrow and then it’ll all be over.” Maybe if he didn’t tell her, she wouldn’t realize that she was off the hook if he wasn’t made Head. After all, there was no way he could pay for everything on his own. Maybe if he didn’t tell her…no, that was terribly dishonest.

“Yeah.” She turned away from him. “Good night, Jeriah.” 

“Good night, Amery.” 

The book in his hand remained closed as he watched her drift off to sleep. This was why he thought it would be a good idea to just never get in a relationship. This was why he’d thought it was better to make a contract marriage: He never wanted someone he actually loved to have to deal with his family.

NEXT (The Head of Krovstoff Group)

Notes:
I wasn’t sure if I wanted this from Amy’s PoV once she got back from the walk, but I ended up going with this perspective to give Jeriah and Gareth a chance to talk.

I wanted more page-time to develop Lynna and her tensions with her family before this, but I wanted to stick with a short story and every attempt to do more wasn’t working out well.


So…who would you support as Head of  the Group? Jeriah? Gareth? Sherman? Should Grandmother just work on an immortality potion because she can’t seem to find worthy progeny?

D:CM Walk in the Park

PREVIOUS (No One Watching)
For about three weeks—about a week after the luncheon— Amery had been going to the Krovstoff Mansion almost every other day. Today was one of those days. She had changed into a nicer shirt and slacks and coupled them with comfortable—but stylish—walking shoes Lynna had bought her on their day out together.

“Miss Dahla, my lady will be downstairs shortly,” Martin the butler greeted, now familiar to her appearances at the mansion.

“Hey Martin. How did the meeting go yesterday? Did everything work out with the contact?”

“It did.” He told her about the company that had wanted a rather biased contract, and how Grandmother had brokered a more fair arrangement. “They promised to uphold the deal with the new Head as well.”

“That’s great news!”

Martin stopped by elevator. “Will you be walking around the property again today?”

“Yes, through the viewing garden down to the maze.”

“The maze is quite beautiful itself, if you ever get a chance to play it,” Martin replied as the elevator rang. “My lady. Please remember your hats today,” he said, bidding them farewell.

“Martin, if any of my children or grandchildren stop by tell them they can talk to me tomorrow morning before the family meeting. I leave the rest of the preparations for tomorrow to you.”

“Yes, my lady. Have a pleasant walk.”

Grandmother and Amery headed out. For a elderly lady, Grandmother was brisk and light on her feet, and her gaze was perpetually sharp around her. Amery started with their usual topics: work, the latest going-ons in the Krovstoff Group, the status of their relationships with other companies, the status quo.

The entrance to the maze was already in sight when Grandmother suddenly changed her tone. “Miss Amery Dahla, I rather like you.”

“I’m glad you say so, ma’am.”

“People make their livelihoods, their businesses and their careers with Krovstoff Group.” The wrinkles at the edges of her eyes crinkled affectionately. “My husband and I aimed to found more than a chain of hotels. We wanted to create a community of business that operated on integrity and mutual benefit.” Grandmother sighed quietly. “I’ve done my best to keep with those ideals, and to run my family in a way that mirrored those. I hope can only hope my business had succeeded in that regard, for my family certainly hasn’t.”

“Ma’am…” Amery tried to think of something comforting to say. “I only really know Jeriah and Lynna and Gareth, but I can attest that they’re wonderful people.”

Grandmother make a very unladylike noise. “You comfort me, Amery. “Gareth has not been acting like a Krovstoff. We are more than just people with a lot of money. And we should act like it.” Grandmother crinkled her eyes at Amy.

“What do you mean he’s not been acting like a person of high status?” Amery furrowed her eyes, thinking of the way Gareth threw money around.

“He acts like a brat with a lot of money. I would not trust him with the legacy of my entire family. Not yet. He has some growing to do.”

They reached the lake and sat on rocks by the shore. The wind whistled through their hair and for a moment Amy could almost remember spending time like this with her grandmother. If things worked out, this would be her grandmother.

“I will be frank,” Grandmother said resignedly. “Your arrival came at a suspiciously opportune time. I had told Jeriah that to be a contender to inherit the family group, he would need to be in a long-term relationship. Does it concern you that he may be deceiving you?”

Grandmother was not supposed to be so honest. Amery had always been   prepared to defend her nonexistent feelings for Jeriah, point to both real and fake evidence of their relationship, but she hadn’t rehearsed for this. Amery was afraid her surprise was written over her face. She was too nervous to even try laughing it off, but she tried to force a hopefully- believable smile.

“No.” Amery paused, not certain where to cite her confidence from. She had her doubts, particularly from the last few Tuesdays. She had Gareth’s proposition, but there was something else in her heart now.

She was thinking about last week, when they’d fallen asleep on the couch together. When Amy woke up, she realized that Jeriah had thrown a jacket over her. She had slept in the crook of his shoulder with his arm wrapped protectively around her. She looked up, rubbing her eyes.

His brow was furrowed into a deep V and his mouth was set in a little front that could almost be called a pout. She knew he was stressed from projects at the lab, the business with his family, and with acting with her on top of all of it. Yet he never seemed to be cross with her.
She didn’t want to doubt him anymore. If she was making another mistake trusting him, she would deal with it later. Jeriah wasn’t Cyril. For now, all she wanted was to be able to do something to ease the tension that he carried even in sleep.

Amy searched for the words to convey her resolution. Finally, she shook her head in defeat. Either way, Grandmother didn’t seem to be interested in her explanation.

“I have watched him grow up. I know he is not above making surreptitious deals to get what he wants.”

What a nice way to say bribery, Amery noted.

“It’s obvious you care a lot for my grandson. Even if your relationship did not start out entirely honestly, I suspect there is something there now. I won’t oppose your marriage if you don’t want to do this, but I have a request.”

Amy tried to gauge Grandmother’s perpetually pleasant mask. How much did Grandmother really know, and how much was a bluff to test her? Slowly, Amy nodded.

 “I would like you to leave him.”

Amy’s heart nearly stopped. Everything in her body turned to stone at the suggestion. After all her worry? What was the point of her being a convenient fiancé if his family didn’t like her after all?

“W-Why?” her voice sounded cracked and weak, even without acting.

“Entertain an old woman. I have never seen Jeriah passionate about anyone. He loves his work enough, but if he is going to stay by your side for the rest of his life, I want to know he loves you. I’d like to know that there’s at least one relationship in this family that isn’t built on how much money one party has.”

Grandmother faced her knowingly. “And I’m sure you’d like to know the answer yourself.”
They were only standing at the entrance of the maze, yet Amery felt like she had gotten lost in it already and trapped herself in a corner, with Grandmother on one side and her own curious, traitor mind on the other. “What did you have in mind?”

NEXT (Interlude: Guilt)

Notes:
This comes from a bunch of snippets of Grandmother woven together. I got the idea for this scene when I went to a semi-formal banquet at my university, celebrating some elementary school students that had drawn art for their walls. Most of the families there were from a very high SES society. One of my friends was talking to a dad. He was a former manager and very wealthy, but also very well read. He and his wife kept up-to-date with a lot of research and it struck me that while they had a lot of resources to do what they did, they were also very informed and they expected highly of themselves. 

At one point a grad student came over to shake hands with the man. He greeted the man with something like “Mr. Ellis, it’s good to see you.” And Mr. Ellis (obviously not his actual name) was just like “Have we met?”
“Yea, I worked for you/ your team for a few years ago.”
“Oh. Are you still there? I’ve been retired for a while.”
“No, I quit. I’m doing a PhD here now.”
“I’m glad it worked out for you then.”
The wealthy man was kind of confused and formal, but he seemed to come across as both snobbish and polite.

The encounter was in no way a pleasant one, but it struck a chord that was directly opposite to the usual view of rich people just throwing money around blindly just because they could. There’s a certain grace that comes with having a lot of money that I don’t think we see any more. 

Grandmother’s view is that the family members of the Krovstoff Group aren’t just wealthy, but that they should behave with better conduct as well. And she’s disappointed by their sense of superiority. 


I wasn’t really sure about the pacing of it, but I ended up putting it here to avoid having a going-back-in-time  situation come up with the next few scenes. 

D:CM No One Watching

PREVIOUS (Temptation)
“Welcome home,” Amy greeted. 

It was a quiet evening. Gareth was nowhere to be noticed, but there was a pot of something fresh coming from the kitchenette and the projector was already set up with the next episode of Murder Most Fowl loaded up. Amy herself sat in her usual spot, curled up on the couch with a textbook over her lap. 
She noticed the hint of a smile tug on the corners of Jeriah’s face at her greeting. “I’m back.” He hung his bag up next to hers. “Did you make something?”

“Just a soup. Do you want some? It just needs to be heated up.” She moved the text off her lap and stood up. 

“Thanks. I’ll get it.”

“I haven’t eaten either. It’s fine.”

“It’s the least I can do since you cooked and waited for me,” he replied. 
Amy shifted between her feet with a little pout but relented and went back to her book. 

A few minutes later, the soup heated and the table set, Jeriah wandered over to the couch. 

“We can eat now. What’re you studying?”

“Business Economics,” she replied, shutting the textbook and returning it to his bookshelf.

“I’ve been wondering; why business?” 

“Well, you’re planning to head an international hotel chain, right? I figured that if I’m going to be your wife I ought to learn a bit about the trade. I don’t want to be a nuisance to the group.”

“Oh.” He seemed shocked, or touched, or something between the two. “You’ve gotten pretty far in it since you started.”

“Hopefully. Anyways, let’s eat.” 

They talked about normal things over dinner: the funny things participants did in the lab, the readings that week, what was going on in the news and with the Krovstoff Group, what Ryan was up to, their speculations for where Kevin the butler had gone on his vacation, where Murder Most Fowl was going…. As they washed the dishes together, Amy wondered if there had always been this much to talk about. They glimpsed each other at work every day, and they talked almost every night expect when one of them got back late, yet she felt like there was still so much to talk about.

She pushed her thoughts away quickly and they settled into their usual positions to watch A Murder Most Fowl. She curled up next to him, even though there was no Gareth to act for, and he seemed pleasantly surprised. 

“I love how Minerva never doubts Ezreal even when the Commissioner pins evidence of the murder on him,” Amy murmured between episodes.

“Seriously. Even Ursula was convinced,” Jeriah commented, his fingers waiting on the remote in case she had another comment.

But Amy was wrapped up in her own thoughts. Shouldn’t she be like that then and trust her fiancé even when it seemed that there was no reason to? 

“Amery?”

Or would that be stupidity, like when she had trusted Cyril without regard to her gut instincts and the evidence around her? After all, one she had lived through. And the other was a story. 

“Hey. What’s on your mind?”

She snapped her attention back to him and realized she had been staring at him. She shook her head. “Sorry, I was just imagining what kind of faith that would take.”

“Love,” he replied nonchalantly. He glanced down at her. “Or so the characters would like you to believe.”

“I thought I loved Cyril,” she muttered bitterly. Did she love Jeriah? She was going to marry him, but she wasn’t sure she had the proper feelings of a bride going into a wedding. 

He caught it. He hesitated. “Who’s Cyril?”
She paused too. She hadn’t meant to bring Cyril up again at all, particularly not in front of Jeriah. 

He waited. 

“Cyril…is my ex-boyfriend. We dated for a while in college. I found out he didn’t see me as anything but a tool. In the end he got into some trouble with the law. I testified against him at the trial.” 

Suddenly Amy didn’t want to know what kind of reaction Jeriah would have to this. “Anyways. Sorry for the detour. Cyril was guilty, but we’ll see if Ezreal turns out innocent,” she said, turning back to the projecter. “Go ahead and start.”

“Amery….”

She reached over and pressed the play button. She felt his gaze on hers through the opening song, but she kept her eyes trained on the screen and concentrated on finding the terrible people that were trying to take down Ursula, Marguerite and Minerva.

Finally, Jeriah turned his attention back to the screen. She felt him sigh, and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, but he didn’t try to talk. 

 As she watched the finale, Amy remembered why she loved reading romance novels, where everyone was always a good person and everything always worked out and somehow despite the ridiculous situations, the protagonists always found true love. Her eyes blurred as the final credits rolled. 
Jeriah offered her a tissue sympathetically when he turned the lights on and realized she was tearing up after the beautiful ending. 

“Who was your favorite?” Amy asked, dabbing away her tears after the happy ending. Jeriah had a gentle smile on his face as he watched her. 

“Ursula. She’s a mastermind.” He left her field of vision.

“Dark-haired, badass genius type then?” Amy frowned, tossing the tissue away and thinking over his answer. “I’m not badass or a genius.”

“What does that matter?”

“I’m trying to figure out your type.”

Jeriah reappeared with a mug of tea and a skeptical smirk. “You’re my type. Just be yourself.”

She flushed. “From the cast!”

“If you insist, I think Marguerite is beautiful.”

“I look nothing like Marguerite!” 

“As a character. You have her strength and fragility.” He looked so serious that 
Amy’s protest died in her throat. 

She pulled her knees up on the couch and sipped the tea he’d made her. He must’ve been watching her make her own because he’d gotten the proportions of the blend right. And he had remembered that she always had a calming cup after their episode to help her sleep. A warmth spread in her chest that wasn’t from the tea. That wasn’t something a man who didn’t care would do, was it? But Cyril had done nice things for her too. Not that he meant them. Not that he cared. 

She took a deep breath and a long gulp of tea to soothe her nerves and put her head against the couch, watching Jeriah. 

“Why?” she whispered finally.

“Marguerite’s emotionally destroyed, but whenever she’s in front of other people she maintains a strong image. You’re like that. You said a little bit about your ex, yet you went forward with this sham of an engagement so composedly. You always project a confident image at work or in front of my family.” Jeriah watched her seriously. “I’ll be here when you want to talk. And I hope I don’t ever do anything to make you feel like that again.”

She wanted to reply, but her eyes were slipping closed. She must’ve been more tired than she’d thought. She murmured something, and he said something in reply. She slumped forward a little, something soft caught her, and she didn’t hear the answer.

NEXT (Walk in the Park)

Notes:
Half of this originally happened back with the stuff in Reasons and the tripping over the laptop-cord. It was cut off to it’s own section here and the Murder Most Fowl stuff was added to harken back to what they talked about in Stories. 

Also, Minerva is me-Minerva because Minerva in Murder Most Fowl is basically me. ^^ And the name Ezreal stems from my silly crush on Ezreal from League of Legends.


Anyways, where Reasons was more my adding in otome-ness for the sake of showing a budding relationship, is more my brand of romancing: the “welcome home” greetings, the cooking, the studying stuff that’s interesting for the other person, the shared fan-gushing time, that kind of hanging-out. <3