Worlds Collide Ch 01

Marphisa sighed as she pulled into the driveway of her mother's home. It had been seventeen years, but the idea of having yet another family get-together that included her mother's boyfriend, Piero, still repulsed her. When Marphisa had first met him, Piero had only been in his early twenties, about ten years younger than her mother. The whole situation hadn't gotten any less awkward with time.

Marphisa smiled as she stepped out of her car, seeing her little brother come pulling in right behind her. "Salut, big sister! Ça va?" Michel stuck his head out the window, his bright hair glowing golden in the sunlight.

"I'm fine Michel," Marphisa said with another sigh, "but you know how these things get to me." Michel smiled, and once again, Marphisa was struck by just how handsome her younger brother was.

"Darling Mari, you know we love you but seriously, you need to lighten up on old Piero. You're just causing dear Maman added pain." Marphisa smiled and took hold of Michel's arm as he got out of his own car.

"Such a flashy car, little brother! Trying to catch the attention of some cute boys?" Marphisa teased. She pitied any girl who tried to catch Michel's attention: he had once focus, and once focus alone, and that was finding the perfect man.

Now it was Michel's turn to sigh as they walked in the door. "Oh my god, Mari, I think I've met the perfect man. He's so—" Michel cut off as Raoul walked out of the living room and out into the foyer to meet them. "Woah there, older brother. Have you been working out?"

Raoul rolled his eyes, then said quietly, "You guys watch out. Maman is acting pretty strange. It seems Piero has invited some of his friends to come for lunch with us." Marphisa instantly angered at Raoul's words.

"How dare he? He's barely even part of the family! We don't want any of his grungy little friends in our house." Raoul shrugged, then lead them into the living room. Adèle sat in one of the big leather armchairs with her eyes closed, looking very worn out.

"Maman? Is everything all right?" Michel went to her, patting her shoulder with concern.

Slowly, Adèle opened her eyes and turned her gaze on her youngest son. "Mon cher, I'm fine, I'm just decompressing. It's something Piero taught me for stressful times." Looking at Raoul, Marphisa rolled her eyes, then began to walk towards the dining room where she could hear other, deep male voices coming from.

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Ander stood next to Gentza, wondering yet again how he got dragged into coming with that slimy looking Italian guy, Piero, to this party. They were in a strange room, a dining room that looked to be styled after the bright decorations of French palaces of old. It was a bit over the top for his taste, and looked quite expensive, leaving him to wonder if this was really Piero's place at all.

Ander had caught a glimpse of a very pretty woman, perhaps in her mid-forties, talking to Piero, and he supposed this might be her home. Not for the first time, Ander wondered exactly how Gentza had come to know Piero Antonelli, but Gent preferred to keep his silence on most things.

There were four other men in the room, all seeming to be friends of Piero's, most in their late twenties, leaving Ander feeling young and out of place, except for his twenty-two year old brother. Suddenly, a rather angry looking woman came into the room, walking straight up to Piero.

"Piero Antonelli, you are such an idiot! You take advantage of Maman, knowing she won't kick out your friends, and bring a bunch of idiots to her house. You don't deserve ma mére! Tu es stupid! Tu es un grand idiot! I'm going to kill you!"

Ander looked at the woman with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. She had to be one of the most attractive women he had ever seen. She was quite tall, tall enough to seem like she was towering over Piero, although he was probably still a few inches taller than she was. Her body was long and lean, not an ounce of extra fat apparent.

She was the sort of woman he would normally go after, but as she shook her long, golden hair in anger, he knew it would probably be best to leave her alone just now. Although, Ander admitted to himself, the whole French accent was quite the turn-on. He hadn't even really noticed it until she had burst into what was obviously her native language.

Ander watched as the mystery woman turned her back on the whole group and walked out the door, her amazing hair glowing as light from the large windows caught it. For the briefest of moments, Ander wondered what it would be like to touch that hair, caress it, feel it run along his body. He shook his head to rid himself of that thought, before turning to Gentza to speak.

"Gent, I think we should get out of here. It's clear we weren't exactly invited." Ander sent Piero a pointed look, before grabbing his brother's arm and half dragging him out the door. Once they were in the hall, Ander turned to Gentza.

"What the hell was that? Why are we even here? It doesn't make any sense. I don't understand you, Gent. Let's just go." As Ander turned to walk out the front door, a young man walked over and blocked his way.

"Who are you? Are you some of Piero's friends?" Ander nodded, realizing that this had to be the woman's brother. They had the same golden hair and same classic features, though now that he thought about it, the woman's eyes weren't the same kind brown as the man before him. They were something much more piercing, maybe a bright green.

"Sorry for my sister, Mari. I'm Michel, by the way. You know, the both of you look pretty familiar." Ander gave Michel an odd look, before edging towards the door, Gentza still in tow. He stopped, however, when Michel snapped his fingers.

"I know who you are! You are from the Sinclair family, aren't you? One of you must be Ander, the other Gentza. I used to work for Damian, your father." Ander started at the mention of his father, then gave Michel a second look-over.

"Yeah, that's us. I'm Ander. I don't really remember Dad ever mentioning you, though..." Ander thought back over his past conversations with his father about work. "You mean work at the art gallery?" Michel smiled, then shook his head.

"Not exactly, I really was just a model for some of the paintings one of his students made. But I'll never forget him. Damian Sinclair is one of the kindest men I have ever met. In fact, I'd like to repay him somehow. Maybe you guys could come back here next week, maybe Tuesday. This time you could bring your whole family. I'd love to meet them."

Ander agreed and they worked out the details, Michel promising to call the number Ander gave him to arrange the exact date and time. As Ander and Gentza walked out the door, Ander gave one last look at the house, wondering about his next meeting with the beautiful Mari.

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Marphisa sat in front of the desk in her old bedroom, still shaking with anger. Her mother seemed to be so stressed out, and then seeing Piero surrounded by a bunch of twenty-year-olds, trying to "reconnect with his younger self", just made her lose it. Why couldn't her mother see what a big mistake she was making? Marphisa would never have found Piero to be a nice guy in any circumstances.

There was just something about him that made her blood boil. Apparently, Michel didn't feel this, since he was always telling her to cool down, but she knew Raoul agreed at least partly with her. It was probably harder for the older two since they remembered their father quite well.

Marphisa could never see her mother's relationship as being anything more than a fling or affair. She knew what a grand romance her mother and father's had been. Gauthier and Adèle were made for each other. They were soul mates. Marphisa just knew that there was no other man for her mother.

Trying to think of another topic, one that didn't get her so riled up, Marphisa thought back to when she yelled at Piero. She could still remember the feeling of all the anger inside of her exploding, but she also remembered another feeling. One of the men had been looking at her. Not in a bad way, really, but a very intense stare that had made her entire body tingle, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

She remembered that he was a very attractive man. She probably would have been more interested in his messy coal black hair and gorgeous dark eyes if he hadn't been one of Piero's friends. Now that he was on her mind, though, she couldn't get him out. Marphisa remembered how tall he was, substantially taller than she was, and she was at a lofty height of 5'10". He had a swimmer's build, not overly muscular, but still quite lean.

Marphisa gave in to admitting he was attractive. He certainly was. But that didn't mean anything, and she certainly wasn't ever going to see him again. Even if she did, all of her shouting, especially the French parts, probably would have him permanently scared of her.

Letting out a sight, Marphisa looked around the room in which she had spent much of her childhood. Usually it felt comforting, being surrounded by so many reminders of her father and her life in France. Lately, though, she began to feel more stuck. Suddenly, a wave of claustrophobia hit her, and Marphisa felt like this little memory room she had built herself was closing in on her.

The entire room was stuffy, full of things that were her father's or came from their château in France. Quickly, Marphisa ran out of her room, and shut the door, breathing a deep sigh of relief. This feeling was short lived, however, as Michel came round the corner to find her panting, leaning against the wall.

"Mari, you can be quite the pig-head sometimes, you know that? You scared away all those boys, and to be honest, some were quite yummy. Especially those Sinclair boys."

Marphisa looked at Michel, confused. "Sinclair boys? Who are they? And I thought you said you had met the perfect man, already—." She was hurriedly interrupted by her brother.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure they're straight, anyway. Do you remember when I talked about Damian Sinclair?" Marphisa nodded. She remembered that time in their lives quite clearly. "Good. Well, two of the men that Piero had brought with were his sons, Ander and Gentza. You couldn't have missed them. Tall, dark hair, great bodies—." It was Marphisa's turn to interrupt.

"Yeah, yeah, I noticed them. What about them?" Michel smiled, then turned to walk away, saying over his shoulder:

"Oh nothing. I just invited the whole family to dinner on Tuesday. Be there." Marphisa waited until her brother turned the corner before leaning her forehead against the cool wall. She had thought she would never see that man again, but it seemed fate had something entirely different in mind.

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"Ander, is that you?" Damian shouted from the kitchen. Ander smiled, realizing that no matter how quietly he thought he could enter the house, his father would always notice.

"Yeah, Dad, it's me. You're not going to believe what happened to me today." Ander said, lowering his voice as his father came into the room.

"Ok, so what happened to you today?" Damian asked, smiling at his son as Ander collapsed on the couch. "Oh, and be a little more careful of that old couch. It's definitely seen better days, and you're not seven-years-old anymore." Ander chuckled, then launched into his description of his day.

"So, anyway, do have any clue who this guy is? His name is..." Ander quickly checked the card the man had given him. "Michel Boutin. A very French guy. Pretty tall, obviously athletic, hair the color of honey." Ander stopped as he saw his father smile at some distant memory.

"Sure, I remember. Michel was a good kid. Amazing model, too. The lines in his body were fantastic for paint or pencil. I remember he could sit for hours on end without batting an eyelash. The girls were always chasing after him, but he stayed away." Ander nodded, then remembered what Michel had said to him on their way out.

"He said something about how you were the kindest man he'd ever met. Why would he say that?" Ander was taken aback when his father let out a huge, bellowing laugh.

"He would say that. Michel always had a way of exaggerating. Anyway, when he was in a little fix, I helped him out a big. Not a big deal. Like I said, he was always a good kid. I wish I could have done some pictures of him. I think I still have a painting in the attic one of the students did." As Damian thought about it, Ander wondered how he would phrase his next question.

"Um, did you know anything about his family? Maybe you knew something about his sister, Mari." Damian shook his head.

"Only knew he had a sister named Marphisa. I guess that would be Mari. I did meet his mother once, though. She was a gorgeous French woman. I believe her name was Adèle. Also, I'm pretty sure his father died when he was quite young. Other than that, I have no idea." Ander nodded, taking in the information. Suddenly, he remembered the rest of what Michel said.

"Oh, by the way, Michel invited us to come to dinner at their house on Tuesday night. I guess the entire family is supposed to come." Damian smiled, obviously glad to see the boy again. Ander wasn't quite as sure if he was excited for the dinner. He definitely wanted to see Mari again, but he didn't know if he wanted his entire family to see her first. However, it was looking like he didn't have any choice.