9. Enslee
My eyes fluttered open as sunlight slipped through the partially closed drapes in front of the window, still sending in enough brightness to fully illuminate the room.
As I looked up above me, my eyes fixated on a large, golden chandelier.
It was the shiny type with large protruding spindles tipped with bulbs I assumed provided light, and I was struck by the haphazard design of the fixture.
The spindles had no formal design or pattern; they were all over the place.
The irony wasn’t lost on me because as I tried to remember anything, my own thoughts were all over the place too. And they were new—recent—and involved three men. One was a doctor, but the other two said that we were together when I fell which made no sense.
I was mostly out of it last night, but I could remember the two tall, dark, and handsome men with those soul-piercing eyes staring down at me. It hadn’t been in a warm and fuzzy way, but more in a worrisome one. They were concerned about something. But what?
As I tried to roll over to see what familiarities I could find in this room, a searing pain shot like lightning from one end of my skull to the other before disappearing. Right after, three more came in rapid succession, and I moaned in pain as I clutched my hand against my throbbing temple.
A fall. My head hurt because I had fallen. Everything that I’d forgotten had happened in those short minutes. As I tried to think of how I’d fallen, I couldn’t remember. Nor could I recall how I’d even gotten to this place or what this place really was.
“What’s wrong with me?” I asked softly as to not irritate the pounding in my head.
I decided to lie here for a bit longer, eventually able to move to one side where I took in the white walls, a weird-looking piece of art providing the only color to it, and the door, which was closed.
Rolling carefully to the other side, the wall color was the same, only there were two large dark doors which were painted the same shade as the ceiling and flung partially open.
From my angle, I could see a vanity and knew it was a bathroom.
I hated to see how bad I looked, especially if my reflection would mirror how I felt, but I needed to get some answers.
While this room looked like something one might see in a magazine or on one of those home shows on television, it didn’t look like the type of place I would like. It had no soul. No character.
Of course, I had no recollection of what I liked. Hell, I had no idea what I even looked like. Deciding to suck it up, I eased myself into a seated position, and after the first bout of dizziness passed, I actually felt better sitting than lying down.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stayed there for a few minutes, all while trying to take in this room.
It definitely belonged in a showroom. But did I?
Each time I felt a bit wrong being here, I’d be reminded that I had no idea where else I could’ve belonged.
For all I knew, this could be my room, and one I had designed myself.
I got up at that thought, and the long T-shirt went nearly to my knees. I assumed this belonged to one of those men, so I took it off and tossed it onto the bed before moving to what I figured was the closet. As I thrust the doors open, I was right.
There was a row of clothing hanging on the hangers, mostly of the T-shirt and hoodie variety.
As my finger grazed one of the sweatshirts, this felt more like me.
Why, I did not know, but it was simple and straightforward, which I suspected also described me.
Below the shirts, there were several pairs of jeans, and I knew then that I was a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl.
I grabbed some pants and a shirt before moving to the dresser on the wall opposite the bed. It contained several pairs of underwear and bras, but I only grabbed the former. The last thing I wanted to do was wrestle into a bra right now in this condition.
I changed clothes and padded barefoot on the heated floors to the bathroom to check out the damage. Not sure what I expected, the brunette with wide eyes staring back at me seemed foreign to me. I ran a hand over my face, but it felt no more familiar than anything else.
It didn’t stop me from staring at myself, though.
I keyed in on my reflection for several more seconds before I ran some cold water and splashed it onto my face.
I also leaned in to peer at myself in the glass.
There were no bruises, cuts, or anything else that would indicate that I had suffered an accident.
“I need answers, and hopefully someone will give me some today.”
I couldn’t locate a brush, so I ran my hands through my hair to loosen the tangles trying to knot up.
Once I at least looked some semblance of presentable, I left the room and stopped in the hallway upon realizing I had no idea where to go.
I only started down the hall upon hearing voices, and it wasn’t long before I reached an opening.
Several people were sitting near the island, which was covered in a white and brass colored marble, and all of whom turned and looked up at the sound of my footsteps.
There were actually five people. The three men from last night, and two women.
Not a single one looked familiar beyond the introduction to the men the night before.
Ten eyes, though, were all trained on me as if they expected me to say something.
“Am I interrupting?” I asked, and it was only then that I realized my voice was a bit gravely. It was also dry, and my mouth practically watered at the sight of the glass of juice.
“Of course not, Enslee. Why don’t you join us,” the physician said.
I smiled and took a seat. As soon as I did, the darker-haired man slid a plate in front of me that had a bagel and cream cheese, along with sliced strawberries and bacon on the side. I looked down at it, then up at the man. “Do I like this kind of food?”
Something flashed in his eyes, and it almost seemed like relief, but why would he be happy that my head was devoid of everything? If I couldn’t remember what kind of food I liked, I certainly couldn’t remember any of my time with him.
“You do, and you like to pile everything onto the bagel and eat it at once,” he said.
I scrunched up my nose. “I do?”
One of the women, the youngest of them, smiled. “Of course. You said not to knock it until we’ve tried it.”
“Hmm,” I said, but decided to give it a try.
I broke off a piece of the bagel, then topped it with a small edge of the bacon and a strawberry slice.
All eyes were on me as I popped the small morsel into my mouth.
It was a bit unnerving to be dissected like I was at this moment, but I chewed the bite of food.
As soon as I swallowed it down, I turned to the others. “It’s okay, I guess.”
It had to be better than that because I made a similar bite and ate it before remembering how thirsty I was.
This time, the other man walked a glass of juice over to me, but it was not the bright orange kind everyone else was drinking.
It was more pink in color and had a lot of pulp.
I brought it to my lips, and as I took a large swallow, the tartness made my face scrunch up, and I spit it out without even thinking.
It was only when I saw the remnants of it on my plate and the light bar top that I realized what I’d done.
“I-I’m sorry. What is this?”
“Grapefruit juice,” the lighter-haired one said. “It’s one of your favorites.”
“If so, I can see why my mind is repressing that memory.”
All laughed except the men. Instead, they were staring at me as if trying to read me. I felt exposed even though fully dressed. The older woman moved over to me and wiped the juice off the counter and I felt bad.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s quite alright, dear. You’ve had an eventful night. If you would prefer, I could make you a different juice. We have—”
I noticed the fresh fruit beside the juicer, and not wanting her to go through any added trouble for me, I quickly interrupted. “A glass of water is plenty sufficient.”
She moved to the large refrigerator, one wider than I’d ever remembered seeing, and produced a bottled water, then filled an empty glass with ice from the door.
When she returned, she swatted at my hands as I went to open it myself.
I let her pour some of the water into the glass for me, and I smiled politely at her.
“Thank you.”
“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” the doctor asked me as I sipped on the drink.
“Go ahead,” I said as I brought the glass back to my mouth. The ice-cold liquid was like a soothing balm to my dry and scratchy throat.
He proceeded to ask me the same questions he had last night, and again, I had no answers for him.
The dark-haired man finally turned and said, “I have to go into the office for a meeting or two this morning. Declan also has to go out for a press thing, but he’ll be back in a few hours. I’ll be back later this evening.”
Declan. The other man smiled at me, and for whatever reason, I could see him on a poster somewhere smiling the exact same way.
“You’re Declan…” I started to say but drifted off.
“Declan Fitzgerald,” he responded.
I know my name and his, but not the other man. “And your name again is…”
“Brogan Sinclair,” he said to me, then flashed another look at Declan before coming over and lightly kissing the top of my head. There was a slight zing of electricity from the small shock, and I tensed up.
Declan came over and did the same, then motioned for the youngest of the women toward him.
“And you do remember Dr. Pierce, yes?” At my nod, he continued.
“This is my personal assistant, Jenni, and this other lovely lady is our housekeeper, or house tamer, Edna. You’ll remember us all in no time, I’m sure. ”
“I hope,” I murmured.
Soon the six of us turned to three. Edna started to clear away the remnants of breakfast, and I grabbed what was salvageable of my bagel and brought it to my lips. I took a few small bites before nausea rose up in me.
I dropped it back onto the plate before rushing down the hallway. Once in the bathroom I had just left, I emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet, then washed up and returned to the kitchen. My water was still there, and there was a pill sitting on a napkin beside the glass.
“The medicine I’d administered last night can have that effect. Take this pill, and it should help settle your stomach.”
I wanted to argue, but I barely knew my name, much less anything about medicine. Begrudgingly, I put the pill on my tongue, then chased it down with a large sip of the water. “Will I get my memories back soon?”
“Absolutely. Head trauma can cause the brain to act in a myriad of ways. Short-term amnesia is very common in head bumps like yours. As I told your boyfriends last—”
“B-boyfriends?” I sputtered.
“Yes, Mr. Sinclair and Mr. Fitzgerald.” He paid no mind to my shocked expression as he continued on.
“They were very concerned last night, and I’d told them the same thing.
Once you get sufficient rest and surround yourself with familiar things, those memories of yours will come rushing back so fast it’ll feel like whiplash. Just mark my words on that.”
I nodded, and it wasn’t long before he did a physical inspection of my head, pulse, and blood pressure before leaving but promising to come back within the next few days.
And then there were two. Edna was steadily cleaning as I stared at her. Finally, I finished my water and brought my glass to the sink. As I went to rinse it out, she pulled it from my hand and tsked me.
“Declan and Brogan would have my hide if they knew I had you doing manual labor. Go into the living room and sit down. I think your favorite book is still on the coffee table.”
I stepped back, and something felt off. As I made my way toward the room she’d pointed at a few seconds ago, I came to a stop near the staircase.
The black iron was pristine, with not a fingerprint on it.
Unsure of why I did it, I found myself tracing one of the spokes while closing my eyes.
I had fallen, which had already been established, but that was it.
“Edna?” I asked.
“Yes, dear,” she answered.
“How did I fall? And where did I fall?”
“I have no idea, as I was in the city yesterday when it happened. Don’t worry about that right now. Declan and Brogan expect me to make you rest, so go get comfortable on the couch. Your favorite blanket is there too.”
I kept walking, finally stepping down into the sunken living room.
The room was massive and was also in the same shade of white as my bedroom, like most every wall I had seen so far.
There was a large fireplace in the center of the longest wall, and the brick surrounding it went floor to ceiling.
On each side of it, there were large windows that also stretched the height of the wall.
Several couches in a reddish-orange hue circled the room, and I did notice a book and a blanket that looked to have been knitted. I moved over to them and sat down. As I pulled the fabric to my face and inhaled deeply, nothing came to me.
I hadn’t known what to expect, but a continued pattern of nothingness was not it.
With nothing more to do, I curled up on the couch and covered myself with the blanket before picking up the book.
There were two shirtless men on the cover and a woman standing between them.
The scene depicted appeared so intimate.
“As I’d told your boyfriends,” the doctor had said earlier, which made heat fill my cheeks.
Oh my God! Did I read books like this because I was into this threesome type of relationship? If it’s true, what would people think of me? I recalled the carefree mood on everyone earlier, and I assumed none of the others had a problem with it.
Was I a kinky bitch? No, surely not.
I opened the book, and on the very first page, there was a hastily scribbled message across it.
Forget pairs. The best things in life come in threes...
The book fell from my hands and onto my lap as I covered my face with them. I was into two men. I couldn’t even remember what to do with one right now, and I had two. And not just any two, either. Brogan and Declan put the men on this cover to shame. They were far too sexy to be with me.
But they are, and you need to remember them before you become a distant memory.
I rolled my eyes at the inner voice and picked back up the book.
There was a bookmark lodged midway through it, but since I couldn’t remember anything, I started back at the beginning.
And other than Edna’s occasional appearance as she cleaned around me, the entire place was silent, which unnerved me, but why, I couldn’t say.