Deadly Beauty

The Interview: Luke's POV

I hate interviews. The interviewer asks all kinds of crazy questions; and because of my past I am obligated to be honest. My probation officer set up this interview. I got into trouble when I was a kid, did a bunch of dumb stuff I feel bad about now. Got some time in Juvie and straightened out. But I'm 21 now, and the only reason I still have a probation officer is because I got plastered one night and got caught hitting a kid crossing the street. I broke his leg. It's not like I'm gonna suddenly forget what I did without my P.O. I remember it every single day.

But I'm trying to clean up my life and make enough money to start school in the fall. In the last 3 years I've been a handy man, mechanic, construction worker, and a plumber. None of the jobs last long, but the pay well. This is my first time attempting gardening.

"Well, Luke. You certainly have had quite a few jobs in the last few years," she looks down her nose at me.

I don't have to like her, just get the job. So I play nice.

"I've been trying to earn enough money to start school in the fall," I admit.

"If I hire you, I will be paying you $12,000 for the spring and summer seasons, and you will be provided lodging on my grounds. Would that be sufficient?" she smirks.

$12,000? My heart hits double time. Along with not having to pay rent, that would cover all my costs this fall and into next spring with all I have saved up!

"Yes!" I agree eagerly.

"What do you plan on majoring in?" she asks.

"I want to be an architect."

"Very good. A creative mind will do wonders on my garden," Edith smiles. "Have you had any gardening experience?"

"Only when I was little," I admit. "My mother had a beautiful rose garden I used to help her with."

"She no longer has this garden?" she asks politely.

"She died when I was 15," I choke out my answer.

"How unfortunate. And your father?" she continues.

"He is the reason she is dead, and is now serving 20 to life," I answer, trying to keep my voice level. It's been 6 years, but the abuse from my father still rattles my emotions.

"And do you have any other family?" she pries.

"No, it's just me."

"Do you have a wife or a girlfriend I should know about?"

Not that it is any of her business... Why does it feel like she is shoving a knife in my gut; waiting to see how much I can take before I bleed out on her shiny wood floors?

"No." I leave off no one wants someone like me.

"Perfect," she purrs.

The hairs on the back of my neck stands up and dread clenches my stomach. What is it with this lady? She looks at me like she wants to eat me. I have a sudden urge to get up and run like hell. But that money is just too good of an offer, I can't pass it up. James, my parole officer said this is the last time he can help me.

I need this job!

"When can I start?" I ask with more confidence and a touch of arrogance I actually don't feel.

"Right now," she responds and hands me a key ring. "These are to the garden gates, and to the gardener's cottage. I'll have my daughter show you to your new lodgings." She responds crisply.

Wait... did she say daughter?

"Charlotte," she calls out.

"Do you need to go collect your belongings, Mr. Olsen?" she asks imperiously.

I'm not about to tell this creepy lady my whole life is packed up into my little Honda Civic.

"No, I'm good," is all I respond.

Then my heart stops.

The most gorgeous creature I've ever seen walks in and looks up at me, with the saddest smile I've ever seen.

Her sandy blonde hair is piled up on top of her head in a sexy messy bun. She left soft tendrils trailing down to frame her heart shaped face. Her eyes are a hypnotic shade of forest green. She looks to be about a year or two younger than me.

But for some reason she looks nervous. I'm not sure why, but she keeps glancing over at her mother. She is worrying a golden flower pendent that she has caressing her pretty throat.

I can't seem to find the words to offer her a greeting. I seem to forget how to use my mouth, let along remember my own name.

Edith smirks as she looks at me. Did I mention she is giving me the creeps?

"Luke, this is my daughter Charlotte," Edith introduces. And for some strange reason I am relived I don't have to stumble around in front of this beautiful girl for something to say.

"Call me Charlie," she says. Her voice is soft and airy, like a lull-a-bye, and it calms me. Her words are almost addictive, and I find myself gazing down at her soft pink lips. I have the strongest desire to find out if they taste as sweet as her voice...

I clear my throat.

"It's nice to meet you, Charlie," is all my brain could come up with.

She giggles, and a soft smile graces her lips. She grabs my hand and pulls me along. I have no idea where we are going, but I suddenly don't care. I would follow her anywhere. Unlike her mother, I trust her completely. I follow her blindly as she leads me deftly through the mansion and pulls me out the back door and to a garden gate.

"This key opens all the garden gates," she explains, showing me an old iron key with the same flower shape as Charlie's neckless.

The old heavy iron gate squeaks open, like it hasn't been open in years.

A sudden vision of me pushing her up against the gate, devouring her mouth hits me like a ton of bricks. I've never had such a strong desire in my life, and it's taking everything for me not to follow through. This beautiful creature is making me hunger to touch her body and make her mine.

As we step through the gate, I swear her flower glows, but she doesn't seem to notice.

"Come on, Luke. I'll show you your new home," she sings softly.

What is it about her voice that is so hypnotic? I could listen to her for the rest of my life. If I believed in magic, I would think she was casting a spell on me. Maybe she is a siren in disguise...

"Follow me, Luke," she whispers as we pass through rows upon rows of vines, just waking up for the new spring. The soft earth squishes beneath my feet. The smell of newly turned soil and green earth hits my senses. It's invigorating and motivating. Maybe this will be the new start that I've been looking for.

Charlotte pulls me up the short stairs to my new, but temporary home. I have always been in transition. Never really having a place to call a home. But it is my greatest desire to find a place to call a home and start a family of my own.

"Welcome home, Luke," she calls softly as she opens the door for me.