Matching Marlowe

Prologue

Marlowe didn’t believe in fate, nor did she believe in coincidence. She hated the idea that we weren’t in control of our destiny, that we ultimately didn’t have control over what happened to us. If there’s one thing she needed to maintain, it was control.

As she burst onto that rooftop, tears streaming down her face as she thought about the friend she lost, she realized nothing would change her frame of mind.

The late-night air caused goosebumps to prickle across her skin, the soft wind whipping the loose tendrils of her blonde hair across her face.

She approached the edge of the building, gripping the metal bar that ran along its edge as she attempted to catch her breath. You need to calm down, she thought to herself, closing her eyes tightly to stop more tears from escaping down her cheeks. Deep breaths, count to five.

Inhale, one… two… three… four… five.

Exhale, one… two… three… four… five.

Destiny and death, what did they have in common besides a few lousy letters? Marlowe refused to believe that Margot’s destiny was to die in a car wreck at twenty-three.

If it was, what kind of sick joke is that?

Margot had so much life to live, so much she wanted to do and accomplish, and that was all taken away because someone ran a stop sign. A bloody stop sign.

If that man had put his phone down and had been paying attention, Margot would still be here, and Marlowe wouldn’t be standing on the rooftop of the building she worked at in New York City—and she never would’ve met that stranger.

Marlowe was standing with her arms now folded over her chest, head tilted back as she stared up at the sky, not a single star in sight, when the metal door flew open.

Startled, she jumped slightly but only cast a quick glance over her shoulder, wanting to remain invisible yet too curious about who had joined her.

She didn’t immediately recognize the stranger, but she could tell he was furious. What could make someone that angry, she couldn’t even begin to fathom.

He walked towards the lounge area that rested in the center of the roof, grabbing one of the chairs and slamming it into the ground. Five swift swings and all that was left in his hand was one of the wooden legs.

Marlowe watched him with curiosity as he threw the leg into the metal door before hastily stripping out of his suit jacket. He gripped his hands roughly in his brown hair as he rested his back against the wall and sunk down so he was sitting.

“I’m sorry about that,” the stranger said, and it took Marlowe a moment to realize he was talking to her.

“Trust me, I get it,” she told him, releasing a sigh as she took a small step closer to the man. “Wish I would’ve thought of that myself, honestly. Those chairs are hideous.”

To her surprise, the man in front of her chuckled, taking his hands out of his hair and resting his arms on his legs so he could look at her clearly. He didn’t miss how beautiful, yet sad, she looked, and he wanted to know more about the blonde woman who stood before him.

“What’s got you all sad?” He pondered. Closing his eyes, he couldn’t help but cringe, kicking himself for how ridiculous that had sounded.

“Oh, you know, just pondering the great mystery that is life itself,” she answered, finding humor in how embarrassed he was at himself.

He raised a brow as he tilted his head slightly. “Oh, so nothing that important.”

“Not at all.” Marlowe couldn’t help it as she laughed, enjoying the ease with which he brought her, making it easier to joke about the misery she was feeling. I mean, he was just a stranger, after all. “What’s got you acting like the Hulk?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment, means you see a resemblance,” he told her, bringing an arm up and flexing, which made Marlowe roll her eyes before he sighed. “But I’m just sitting here wondering how some people can be so greedy, cruel, and selfish and ruin the lives of others.”

“Seems like we both have a lot on our minds,” Marlowe commented as she walked towards the lounge area. She turned around so she was walking backwards, her eyes on the man still resting against the wall. “Care to join me and tackle these life altering issues together?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

He hastily climbed to his feet just as she turned back around and approached the sitting area.

As she perched on one of the anti-gravity chairs and leaned back, he couldn’t stop himself from admiring her while she stretched out.

I am a man, after all, and she’s beautiful, he thought to himself, justifying away his wandering eye.

Even though they had spoken little, he could tell she had a poise and commanding presence to her; she was strong and well-rounded, for sure. Blue eyes that could take anyone’s breath away on top of the aura she gave off was a dangerous combination, one that would stop any man in their tracks.

Jesus, he thought to himself as he huffed. You sound like some love-struck creep. Keep it in your pants, Romeo.

“You’re making me anxious,” Marlowe told the man, her head turning to see him still staring at her. “You can still admire me from a sitting position.”

“Can’t blame a guy,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing from embarrassment, and he fell into the chair a few feet away from her—close enough for them to touch if he were to try. “So, whose life altering issue should we tackle first?”

She mulled it over, already knowing she didn’t want to talk about herself, at least not first, but wanted to seem as if she was genuinely considering her options. “Tell me about this greedy, cruel and selfish person you know.”

“Now, if I tell you that, I have to tell you the entire story.”

Marlowe pushed the chair so it was completely flat and rolled onto her side, resting her head in her hand as she watched him intently. “I’ve got plenty of time.”

“It’s my father,” he informed her with a heavy sigh, thinking back on everything he had uncovered over the course of only a couple of hours. “I know all parents are horrible, but he was something else.”

“Mine aren’t horrible at all,” she told him truthfully, thinking about her father who was probably sitting on the couch watching some trashy reality show with her sister, and her mom who she lost only a couple years prior who was nothing but the best.

The man sighed, a sense of jealousy and envy flowing through him as he wished from nothing more than to have the life the woman before him must have had. “Well, you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, realizing her mistake too late. “Wait,” she said, cutting off her previous train of thought as her eyebrows furrowed together. “You said he was something else, not is.”

“Yeah,” he drew out, running a hand through his already messy hair. “He passed away a few days ago. The funeral was today, actually.”

Marlowe sent a sympathetic expression his way, but she could tell by the look he gave her in return that he didn’t want it, so she plastered on a neutral face.

“I actually came from a funeral myself,” she informed him with a heavy sigh.

“But we’re not on me yet. We’re talking about you. Tell me about him.”

“He was the worst,” he told her, averting his eyes away from hers; he knew he wouldn’t get through it all if he was watching her while he spoke.

“My father cheated on my mom constantly, but she wanted his money, so she never divorced him.

Since he had so many women on the side, he was never home and my mother was always miserable.

I basically raised myself. But once I turned fifteen, he insisted I went to work with him.

He ran a hand through his hair. “You see, my father ran his own company and insisted it stay in the family. So, being his only son, it was up to me to fill his shoes. At the time, I was so happy to finally have my father back that it never dawned on me that running the business was the last thing I wanted. Of course, once I went to college, I found my passion, but it wasn’t an option for me.

So, instead, I found a way where I could incorporate my passion into the business.

However, not too long ago, I realized that’s going to be impossible. ”

Marlowe let the silence hang between them for a while as she ran his story through her mind, giving him the chance to collect himself before she asked questions. She watched as he wrung his hands together and took a deep breath, and once he looked over at her, she knew he was okay.

“Why is it impossible?”

“He stole a lot of money from many people,” he whispered, averting his eyes once more before he could unravel completely.

“I went through all the records, found out how he really got his money, and even learned that some of these people were so in debt to my father, had lost so much, that they killed themselves.”

Marlowe drew in a sharp breath, feeling sorry for the man before her for having to deal with all of this. “Just because you took over doesn’t mean you’re responsible, if that’s what you’re thinking. What your father did and what happened is some heavy shit, but none of that is your fault.”

“I know that, deep down I know that, but it doesn’t make it any easier,” he admitted, laying down completely and mimicking Marlowe’s posture.

“But I’m going to fix it, and I’m going to get them all their money back, and then some.

Once it’s all said and done, I will turn that company into a legit business. ”

“Sounds like you’re going to be a very busy man.”

Marlowe gave the man a soft smile, her eyes crinkling slightly.

He returned her smile, admiring her as much as he could from the single dim light that sat on a table a few feet away.

He wanted to know everything there was to know about her, wanted to peel apart her layers and become someone she would remember.

“You said you were pondering the great mystery that is life itself,” he reminded her, turning the conversation back to Marlowe. “You also mentioned you had your own funeral today. Any chance those two things are related?”