Ruled By A Woman - 2. Chapter

"Hate the sin, love the sinner." - Mahátma Gándhí

"Excuse me... What?!" whispered Margaret.

"I know, it has to be a shock for you but don't worry about your job! I talked with Christopher about you and I highly recommended him to keep you in this place. He also agreed on keeping all actual employees. Don't be afraid," Richard tried to make her calmer.

She wasn't able to say anything. She just stared at him. How could he have done that to her?

"C'mon, Margie! Say something! I feel so bad now," begged her.

"No, Richard, you don't need to feel bad. It's not my gallery, I don't have any rights here and my words mean nothing in this case. I'll open the vernissage and then leave." Richard could hear a determination in her voice. He could even see it in his face when she looked in his eyes.

"You can't do that, Margie! The gallery needs you!" Richard tried to convince her but it seemed like a lost case. Margaret just negatively shacked her head.

"I'm not going to change my mind. This gallery means nothing without you! You're the main person! If you leave, I'll leave too."

"Nonsense! I talked with Chris and everything is done!"

Margaret gasped. If it was the right Christopher, who she has known from her high school's days, he would remember her. He pranked her and humiliated her more than three years. And not even that...

"You talked about me?"

"Yeah and we're on the same page because we both agreed on the fact that you're indispensable. You're a great manager, everybody knows it! You love your job! Give Chris a chance, Margie! I know about your attitude to men but please, for the gallery's sake and mine too, try to cooperate with Chris. When we talked last time, he wanted to meet you. He has been watching your job since your first vernissage. However he had no chance to catch up with you - until now."

Margaret had no idea what to think. She was pretty sure that when they will meet, he will recognize her, recall all the memories from their past and the hell will begin. She had to find a new job.

"Alright, Richard, if you wish," gave up, but not really. Just for Richard.

"Margie, you know I love you! Not love you, I admire you!"

"Don't be silly, Richard!" On her face was no emotion but Richard knew she loved these endearments.

"Alright," looked at his watch, "we're perfectly on time. You'll be able to change your clothes."

"What? Why should I change my clothes?" wondered Margaret. She started to have a bad feeling that Richard had some hidden agenda.

"Oh, didn't I tell you that you're going to a restaurant with Chris tonight? You have to get closer to each other. You're going to be colleagues!" said sweetly and looked so innocent.

"I'm not going anywhere!" refused. "I have plenty of work, I have to find a catering company - Esmé Raymond's kitchen burnt out. Before the vernissage are always tons of work..." Margaret was trying to find a reason to not go there.

"Craps, normal craps. The gallery is full of employees, they can do it. You'll go home to change and do some make-up. Well, I meant all the creepy things, which women do before dinners. I reserved a table in Crafts - be there around seven."

"Richard, why do you play a matchmaker? You really think that I would jump into a bed with a new owner? Are you crazy?!" Margie started to be angry. Richard tried to organize her private life but the dates just ended that one of them - majorly the man - ran away. Judging by the previous months, which he forgot on her in, she thought he stopped trying... Unfortunately not.

"You are starting to be paranoid, do you know that?! That's a command, go home!"

"No. Firstly I will finish this work and then I will go to the restaurant," capitalized sadly.

"Are you sure you're going to wear this to Crafts?" glanced at her Richard and scanned her clothes.

"Touché," thought Margaret.

"Do you have something against my tailored suit?"

"Absolutely not," denied and stood up considered to leave. "I have to pick up my stuff and prepare for tomorrow so see you then," said and was leading outside. He just stopped in the doorstep. "And please, Margie, be kind to him."

She finally laughed. "Tell me when I wasn't the kind one."

"That's just a rhetorical question, right? Be on time in the restaurant, Chris doesn't like waiting," advised her.

Margaret made a face on him but staid quiet.

"I'm so sorry that you're leaving but on the other hand I'm so happy that you're happy."

Richard turned and sent her a smile.

"Come to visit me. I'll be in London sometimes, I would love to see you and I'm sure Emma and Will would love to too."

"Of course, thank you... When are you leaving? What's your departure time?"

"I'm taking off around half past two in the afternoon, I'm not sure, from the JFK airport."

"I'm going to say good bye," announced Margaret and smiled at him. She had no idea what will happen now but she was considered to not give up.

"You have to," peeked at her and silently went away.

Margaret wanted to bury herself.

"Don't be silly, you're really paranoid! Do you know how many Christopher Hundsbergers are going around the world?! Hundreds, maybe thousands! You're fooling around without a reason! You haven't met him yet, however you've already made an opinion on him!"

She looked to the mirror again, checking her clothes.

"Is it really so bad?" thought.

"No, it's not and let's go to work!" talked to herself loudly. She inhaled deeply and went back to her table. Grabbed her phone and started to check Yahoo. George sent her another message and she realized she had to give him some task...

***

Margaret was standing in front of the luxurious restaurant, well-known as Crafts, in the middle of NYC. She was not able to change her clothes, even to fix her hair. She had no time! Even now she was late. So many thoughts about running away crossed her mind but she quickly perfumed herself and went straight to the restaurant.

She was avoiding thinking on her outfit. Nevertheless she couldn't admit that Richard was right. She also didn't want to think about how expensive this restaurant had to be. Thanks an experience of not having money and being almost homeless, she always tried to keep some savings. After this diner her wallet will bleed...

Her decision of leaving was serious. The famous Chris could be whatever he wanted, she wanted to quite. Richard was leaving, she will be leaving too. She will pack her things and move back to Florence, maybe. Or she might try to settle down in England.

"Be brave," supported herself and went through the door. She could smell the food and her stomach started to call her mommy. She stopped regretting her decision to go here. Maybe she won't regret the money too.

Quiet music played inside and a young lady welcomed her.

"Good evening, madam. Do you have a reservation?" asked kindly.

The calling "madam" sounded special to her because she could usually hear in different situations.

"Is here Mr. Hundsberger? I have a meeting with him here." Margaret ignored the judging sights of people around.

The lady checked something in her computer and smiled at her. "Yes, he is. Actually he's waiting for you, Ms Wilson. Philip!" said and waved on one waiter.

"How can she know I'm Ms?" ran across her mind.

"Madam, can I have your coat?" asked her an older waiter.

"Yes, thank you," gave him her coat. Then another waiter came to her and asked her to follow him. She ignored the people around her as much as she could. She didn't care about them, she learnt that quite a while ago.

"This way, madam," said the waiter and showed her a table. A large man was sitting there, drinking a glass of some liquid, looked like whisky.

She started to shiver. Something was wrong. Her heart started to beat rapidly.

When the man saw, they were coming, he stood up and closed a button on his black suit. She could finally see his face and in that moment, the whole world stopped.

HIS blue eyes were staring into hers and she recognized him. Even through so many years had passed, he still looked similar, only became more muscular and manlike.

All the bad memories came back... How he left her almost naked in the school gym. How he humiliated her in front of the school. How he damaged her whole life.

She felt sick, not hungry any more. Her only need was to escape the furthest she could

However he looked like he didn't recognize her. He smiled at her widely and offered his hand to shake with her.

"You have to Margaret Wilson! My name's Christopher Hundsberger, at your service. I heard only the best about you and finally I have the chance to meet you - thanks Richard, of course," said joyfully and took her hand, which he kissed and then looked straight to her eyes.

Margaret was quiet, she didn't know if she was able to speak.

"May I offer you a chair, my lady?" talked to her sweetly but Margaret knew she couldn't trust him.

He pushed the chair for her and waited until she sit. And then he moved close to her and whispered to her ear.

"Have we ever met before?"

Her nightmares just caught her and she didn't know how to breathe.

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Ruled By A Woman - 1. Chapter

"Love is a friendship set to music" - Joseph Campbell 

"No, Esmé, absolutely no. The opening party is happening next week!"

Margaret Wilson was sitting in her office and tried to keep herself calm. She was calling Esmé Raymond, the owner of the catering company, which provided refreshments on parties of the Small Gallery, where Margaret has worked. Now, to be exact six days before the opening party of a new vernissage, Esmé called her that she wasn't able to provide anything.

"Mrs. Wilson, I deeply apologize but our kitchen just burnt out and we try to figure some staff problems out. I'm really sorry, you have to find another catering. We indeed return your money..." tried to fix the problem Esmé.

"Can't do anything, can I?" resigned Margaret. "Do you know any company, which can save us?"

"Of course, I'll send you contacts to your mail, okay?" A voice of Esmé was full of nervousness. She knew that her company couldn't lose a customer as good as the Small Gallery was. Regardless she has to solve the problems...

"Thank you, Esmé. I hope everything will be alright soon and next time you will be able to be our catering again," said calmly Margaret and was playing with her letter knife, which she received as a gift from the owner of the Small Gallery.

"I thank you for your understanding and I'm looking forward to visiting the vernissage." Esmé was so happy that this art historian took everything calmly. She has never seen her angry or screaming but already heard stories about her anger and temperament.

"Oh thank you! See you!" Margaret ended the call. She leaned on her chair and looked around her office. Did she really need it? Why hasn't she already been on the way to Rhodes? Or to Florence, the most amazing city she has ever visited.

She put the letter knife on the table, rather than throwing it against the wall. She was so pissed out, everything was upside down and nothing worked. The incomes of the gallery decreased, employees threatened Margaret to be on strike for higher salaries but her biggest worry was the owner of this gallery, Richard Barney.

She's known him for 5 years. He offered her a job after her return from Europe. She didn't even know how he's found her, once just rang the phone and Richard asked her to join the crew in the Small Gallery. She was so excited and so now.

She looked again around her small office. Margaret preferred cosier places rather than wide rooms. She focused on the art mirror, which she has received from Richard as a birthday gift. Frankly, a majority of the things here were given by Richard.

She didn't have many friends, even in the school. Of course, she knew some people by names, she worked or had worked with some of them but she's never called them "friends". She was considered that soul mates don't exist at all.

Margaret stood up from her comfortable chair and came around her mahogany table straight in front of the mirror. Judging by her reflection, she looked older than she actually is. Margaret was 28yrs old but looked like a woman in her late thirties.

When she was a child, she used to be a lovely tiny blondie but it screwed it somehow and now she was brunette. She had been never thinking about dying her hair. Margaret put down her glasses and looked again on herself.

"Why do I wear it?" asked herself. Maybe because it was some type of protection.

She wore her favourite brown tailored suit. Even through it suited her well, she didn't feel comfortable in it. Her curves were similar to the bodies of Grecian goddesses – that said her professor of history. After time she released that it wasn't a compliment.

She was not able to attract a man face to face. She always became so nervous, unable to speak or even look at him.

The painful memories of her scholar days came over her mind, especially the bet of cheerleaders and rugby players. They just wanted to make a joke from her. She had to live with it until her graduation day. And everything because of Christopher... No, she didn't want to think about it. She has moved over it and she didn't want to nag in her old wounds.

A sound of a new message made her to focus on presence. It wasn't a SMS but a message on Yahoo.

|My lady?|

Oh gosh, it was a poet, again. She automatically changed to a different mode, her second life one.

She refused to answer him, their relationship, if she even could have called it a relationship, was finished a month ago. He just didn't get it and spammed her by his messages.

|Madame, I know you're there. I have to tell you something...|

She just clicked on it, not replying.

|I composed a poem for you...|

Enough!

|What did I tell you? Don't write me, we have split up a month ago! If you have written me that before, I would command you to punish yourself! I'm very angry on you! Very!|

These angry talks always made him to stop. Inside every young men is hidden a small nasty boy, who is afraid of a punishment... However some of them are kinky one and are looking forward to it.

|My lady, it wasn't meant to make you angry. I'm only yours. Tell me my punishment...|

She could smell complications.

Without warning, somebody knocked and in the doorstep was standing Richard. It was his well-known way how to make a great entrance. Why should he have been waiting until invitation? It's his here.

"Richard! You surprised me! Do you need anything?" Margaret stood up, put the phone on the desk and smiled at him.

Richard looked great in his sixties. A smile never disappeared from his face. Openly he was the engine of the Small Gallery.

She wanted to ask him, why he looked like ready for baseball but then she released his grandson had a match.

"Hi Margie! How are you doing? Are you in rush, right?" asked Richard and sat in front of her. Only Richard had the privilege to call her Margie, nobody else could. Well, he loved The Simpsons.

"Like normally before every opening party, Richard. What make you to come here? It's normally impossible to find you here before the party," answered him.

"I just came here to look around... I have to tell you something, Margie," said worriedly Richard. Margaret knew that something had happened and she wouldn't like it.

"Richard, don't tell me you have a disease," said with a shaking voice.

"Don't worry! No disease! Actually it's something amazing! I'm going to a trip around the world!"

The joy in his voice was like a drug and Margaret relaxed thanks that. She had been expecting some bad news, not an announcement of his journey. He will leave the gallery for longer time than usually but she can make it.

"I envy you so much! It's amazing! I would go without thinking! When are you leaving? And how long are you going to travel?"

"Tomorrow," said silently and looked at her worriedly.

"What?! Tomorrow?!"

"Sorry? Can you repeat it?" Margaret couldn't fake that she was in shock. He had never missed the opening of a new vernissage. Never.

"Don't be mad, Margie. I'm leaving tomorrow because I'm flying to London."

"But why so early?" She couldn't still understand it.

"I need to switch off, relax a little bit. I'm in so much stress. And soon another grandchild is going to see the world, do you remember?"

"Oh, of course, sorry, I almost forgot. Greet Emma and Will and tell them I wish all the best. When is the due date?"

"In two weeks, I want to be in the first line to welcome my grandson or granddaughter," smiled Richard and looked straight to Margaret eyes. His face full of worries.

"I sold the gallery," said quietly Richard and was waiting till her reaction.

Her face was pale, without emotions, just stared at him. So Richard continued.

"I sold it to a young investor. He owns some galleries, is a big Maecenas of art. You'll get along with him very easily, don't worry. His name's Christopher Hundsberger..." He stopped in the middle of his talk because he saw how Margaret became deadly pale.

"No, Christopher Hundsberger? No way!"

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