Surprises and Secrets

Meg has always lived an average life. She was an normal teenager. She had good grades. She cleaned up her room. She ate her vegetables. She had a normal family. Until one day, a stranger knocks on her door…


2. Mr. Robinson

   As Meg sauntered down the hall lazily, she thought about shopping that weekend with Cassie and Bella.  I'll have to give them a call after I talk to whoever is here.  Actually, why don't I just let Mike take care of this?  That's why we have a butler, and I could really care less about whoever is calling, she thought distractedly.  By then, Meg had finally reached the thick wooden door of her father's study.  She rolled her eyes and huffed, but still barged into the orderly room.  Meg glanced up at the beautiful bookcases, filled to the brim with thick, hard-backed books.  When she slowly strolled in, a man stood up quickly, and held out his hand.  Meg hadn't seen him yet because her eyes were still on the gilded cases of the classic books her father had read to her as a child.  She ran her hand along the spine of Little Red Riding Hood, and The Swiss Family Robinson.  The man cleared his throat impatiently.

   His cough startled her back from her daydream of childhood memories, and she quickly strode across the room shook his hand and said, "Oh, sorry.  Didn't see you there.  My name is Megan Jones.  Please, be seated."  Sitting in her father's tall carved chair was a man she had never seen before.  She took a closer look at this stranger as she sat down.  He had perfectly combed sandy blonde hair and eyes as turbulent as the ocean.  He was about medium height, middle-aged, and was smiling charmingly, even as his eyes darted around the certificate lined walls.

    "Pleased to meet you, Megan," he said in a smooth yet firm voice.  "My name is Mr. Robinson."

   "Thanks," said Meg, "Um, can I help you with something, Mr. Robinson?"

   "Oh, yes, in fact, I do believe you can help me immensely.  And I think that I can help you," Mr. Robinson replied while still smiling his fabulous smile and folding his hands on the desk.

   "You see, I work with your father.  He and I are very close, I guess you could say," he began, "He plays a crucial role in our sophisticated business, and without him, we wouldn't be able to do much on our own at all."

   "How am I supposed to believe you?" Meg asks impatiently.

   "Your father gave me this - "  He held out her mother's golden wedding ring.  "He knew you would recognize it if the need for you to believe me ever arose.  Now just give me a chance to tell you why I'm here."

   Meg gaped at the gleaming ring in the man's hand.  Tears welled up in her eyes and she tried to hold them back, so she closed her eyes against the oncoming flood that occurred whenever anyone mentioned her mother.  She had died fifteen years ago in childbirth.  Meg still blamed herself for her mother's death, and she thought about her almost constantly.  A voice shattered her thoughts.

   "Megan?  Are you listening?  Are you okay?"

   She slowly nodded, but kept her eyes shut tightly.  Mr. Robinson continued to drone on Meg was able to open her eyes and actually listen.

   "Has your father ever told about what he really does for a living?"

   "Well, sniff, not exactly, but I do know that, sniff, that he is a very engaged business man."

   "Meg, your father had an job two weeks ago in Ireland.  He called in right as he landed, but we haven't heard from him since then.  We know that something must have gone terribly wrong, because your father always manages to report to us when he has finished a job.  We are worried that his position may have been compromised.  We are sending out an elite retrieval team, and we need you to be part of it."

   "Mr. Robinson," Meg inquired as she leaned across the desk, "what exactly does my dad do?"


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