Maggie raised an eyebrow. "That's different." She flipped the mirror back to the glass and gazed at her reflection. A sigh escaped her lips. "Adrian. . ."
Maggie's eyes widened as the reflection of the room in the glass became distorted and foggy. The white mist cleared and revealed a familiar room. The reflection revealed Adrian's chambers. The master himself sat in the high-backed chair before a roaring fire. The glass zoomed in on his countenance. His chin leaned on the knuckles of one hand and he gazed into the flickering flames.
"Wow. . ." she whispered.
Maggie lay down on her back and studied Adrian's clear face. Sadness tinged the corners of his beautiful lips. His eyes were partially lidded, but the fire reflected in their dark depths.
Maggie reached up with one hand and brushed her trembling fingers against the surface of the glass. The image flickered and faded.
Maggie sat up and clutched the mirror in both hands. "Wait! No!"
The image melted into the reflection of the room around her. Maggie shook the glass, but nothing happened. The image reverted back to her own room. Her shoulders slumped.
Maggie jumped at a knock on her door. "Are you okay?" her dad called through the shut entrance.
Maggie stuffed the mirror under the sheets. "I-I'm fine, Dad. Just-um, just looking at myself in a mirror."
"You sure you don't want some food?" he asked her.
"Um, sure, why not?"
Maggie hopped out of bed, but not without one last glance over her shoulder at the lump beneath the sheets.
Her dad and she had his celebratory spaghetti. They sat down at the table with a mountain of the Italian food between them. She piled her plate high enough to keep her mouth full for a month.
Robert's eyes flickered to his daughter. "So what was Mr. Forrest like?"
Maggie shrank down, but managed a shrug. "Oh, you know, just his normal self."
He smiled and shook his head. "I'm actually not too familiar with him. Nobody even knows what he looks after such a long seclusion."
Maggie furrowed her brow and twirled with the spaghetti on the end of her fork. "How long has it been like that?"
Her father tilted his head back and tapped his fork against his chin. "Hmm, I'd say about ten years, just two years after his father died and he took complete control of the company. He used to come by the offices once a quarter to view the cubicles in person."
"How old was he then?" she wondered.
He shrugged. "Oh, he's about five years older than you, give or take one or two."
Maggie glanced down at her plate. Her imagination formed the noodles into his face. She started when her dad reached across the table and set his hand down on her free hand.
Maggie looked up into his kind but concerned eyes. "Something's bothering you," he commented.
She cringed. "I. . .it's just that-well, do you think monsters exist?"
He removed his hand and settled back into his chair with a raised eyebrow. "Monsters?"
Maggie nodded. "Yeah, like vampires, ghosts, and-um, werewolves."
He chuckled and rolled a large hunk of spaghetti onto his fork. "Yes, I do. I work with financial vampires all the time. They suck all the equity and fun out of life."
Maggie frowned. "I'm serious, Dad."
He paused and raised an eyebrow. "Really? What brought on this interest in things that go bump in the night?"
Maggie looked away from his prying eyes. "Maybe I bumped into one of them."
He furrowed his brow. "Maggie, if there's something you need to-" She dropped her fork and stood.
"It's nothing. Really," she assured him. She tossed down her napkin and managed a smile. "I think I'll go to bed. It's been a long day."
Maggie swept past him towards the hall. She'd just reached the corner when Maggie heard her dad behind her.
"I do."
Maggie paused and half-turned to her dad. "You do what?"
He looked her in the eyes. "You asked if I believes in monsters. Real ones. I do."
Maggie arched an eyebrow. "You do? Why?"
He shrugged. A mischievous smile slipped onto his lips not unlike that which belonged to Adrian. "Let's just say there's more to life than numbers. Anyway, goodnight."
The young woman smiled, but this time for real. "Goodnight."
Maggie returned to her room and pulled the mirror from its hiding spot. The glass reflected her room. she pursed her lips. "Adrian."
Maggie's eyes widened as the mirror reflected once more the object of her desire. Adrian stood beside the bed. His shirt was removed and he wore a plain pair of white shorts. She brushed her hand over the mirror to feel his strong muscles, but she felt nothing but smooth, cold glass.
Maggie sighed and set the mirror face-down on the bed. The mirror was a torture device for the new lust that pulsed inside her. She fell back on her bed and closed her eyes.
Her dreams were filled with a certain handsome man and their delicious desires.