Firsts: Book One’s

by Moore, Portia

  “Hey guys,” I greet them, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. It’s my first time seeing Greg since the breakup with Ryan happened.

  “Madison.” He barely disguises his disdain for me. I give him a pass, seeing as I did walk out on one of his closest friends. I don’t expect a welcome parade but I am his girlfriend’s sister, so he could fake it a little better.

  “You look nice, you going out?” Melissa asks pulling out a bottle of wine. My face flushes a little as I avoid Greg’s hard stare. He can be an intimidating man: tall, dark hair and eyes, olive skin, the Italian swagger that can turn a girl on and run a man off. He’s also a lawyer and his no-nonsense approach to life matches Mel’s perfectly, and I like him for her. We’ve never not gotten along—never much having a reason to—but things have changed very quickly.

  “Yeah,” I tell her simply and she looks at me for further explanation.

  “Gee Mom, I’ll be back before curfew,” I tell her sarcastically, grabbing my purse off the nightstand near her door. I’ve been able to avoid Mel’s intense questioning since she’s been busy working and Greg has had time off due to a lull between his cases or something else that I don’t care about.

  “You guys enjoy your night,” I say to them, slipping out the door, but I hear Melissa behind me. I glance back at her and she closes the door behind her.

  “Where are you going Madison?” she asks, her expression serious now.

  “Out with Jackson, to a drive-in,” I reply, unable to hide my excitement. I’ve never been to a drive-in before and I’m looking forward to it.

  “The old guy?” she asks, looking surprised. I fold my arms, feeling defensive.

  “He’s not old, and yes.”

  “I thought this would just be a fling…” she says looking at me curiously.

  “Who says it isn’t?” I counter.

  “Your face. Your face says it isn’t.” I shrug. She lets out a deep exhale.

  “He’s wealthy, older, and handsome…and he is dating a twenty-two-year-old,” she says wryly and I frown.

  “Twenty-three,” I correct her.

  “If it isn’t a fling, it should be,” she says quietly. Her expression is muted and the sincerity in her voice makes me shutter. I swallow hard but she doesn’t say anything before slipping back into her apartment. I hate her sometimes, I really do. My phone buzzes and it’s Jackson.

  “Outside sweetheart,” he says and his voice makes me perk up a bit. I won’t let what she’s said ruin my night. This time he’s not in the Maybach and he’s driverless; just him in a Black G-Wagon looking incredibly sexy with his thick brown hair and the beard of a god. I love grabbing it when I kiss him and I love the million dollar smile I’ve gotten used to seeing. I hop in and he drags me into a slow wanting kiss. “I can’t get enough of you,” he drawls once we part. I smile like a kid who just got their favorite toy, and I sit back in the seat. I glance at Mel’s building and see the curtains closed. They’ve seen me. I hope they got an eyeful. He turns to my favorite radio station and I take in some of the last of the summer evening air.

  “You’re quiet sweetheart,” he points out, and I hate that Mel has tainted my vibe.

  “Yeah, my sister just sort of killed my mood,” I admit. He pulls my hand from my lap and brings it to his lips, kissing it.

  “What happened?” he asks showing genuine concern.

  “Nothing, just Mel being Mel.” I paint a fake smile on my face but he doesn’t buy it.

  “What happened?”

  “She just, she sort of doesn’t like the idea of us. She doesn’t know you and I don’t tell her much. It’s my fault.” I sigh.

  “The idea of us,” he says behind a laugh and my cheeks flush.

  “Not that there’s and us…” I trail off.

  “There’s absolutely an us, I hope.” My eyes meet his and they’re enchanting. A warmness slides through me, drowning out Mel’s earlier words. It’s my first time at a drive-in and Jackson gets me almost everything on the menu so I pig out on salty popcorn, greasy hot dogs, candy I haven’t had in years, and nachos that will kill my stomach later. He watches me and the way he looks at me, like I’m the best thing that has ever happened to him, sends a trickle of fear down my spine. But I deliberately ignore it because I’m starting to think he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

  We go back to the hotel and after slow lazy sexy I’m in his arms when Melissa’s words invade my thoughts.

  “Do I bore you Jackson? Aside from this. I mean I’m not as traveled as you are, I’m four steps from broke, my knowledge of culture laughable, and…” His brows furrow together and his hard stare stops me mid-sentence.

  “Don’t you ever think that again. You’re exactly what I need now,” he tells me and I bite my lip.

  “Which means what?” I ask him and his smile softens.

  “To be reminded of who I am, to share what I have with someone who appreciates it. You’ve made me enjoy life again.”

  “You didn’t enjoy life before me?” I ask him teasingly. “How could you not enjoy all that you have?” I ask him still not entirely sure what all he has, but I can count a jet, access to exclusive penthouse suites, and luxury cars at his fingertips for days. A few moments pass and our eyes meet.

  “There’s a difference between living and existing, Madison. You remind me there’s more to life than work and responsibilities,” he says quietly.

  “How do your parents feel about this? Have you told them?” he asks with a nervous chuckle, probably imagining a father that would care about his daughter being with a guy almost his age.

  “My mom and I have a unique relationship. She doesn’t really have an opinion in my life since she didn’t raise us…well she did, but she was gone a lot working doubles to take care of us when we were growing up. We probably saw her ten hours a week at best,” I explain as he drags his fingers up and down my forearm. I try to let it distract me.

  “And your dad?” he asks.

  “Change the subject,” I insist, not wanting to go near that.

  “I can meet your sister if you want. Maybe if she met me she’d see I’m not some old spinster looking to lock up her sister in a dungeon,” he jokes.

  “You’re already meeting Parker. I can deal with Mel,” I tell him, not wanting her to invade my little planet of happiness until it’s absolutely necessary.

  “It bothers you what she thinks though,” he says knowingly.

  “I just don’t like to disappoint her. Since my mom worked so much Mel sort of took on the parenting role. We’re only months apart so people think it’s weird but she’s always been like a little old lady almost.” I laugh. “An old soul is what my mother says. She did the cleaning and the laundry, reminded me of stuff I had to do. I appreciate her and I respect the hell out of her, I just wish she’d cut me some slack sometimes.”

  “So Mr. Scully,” I say wanting to change the serious tone of the conversation.

  “And what happens when you’re tired of me?” I inquire in a jovial tone but a pang of fear wrapped around reality cuts through me, and it makes my expression fall.

  “Girls like you are always the ones to walk away, sweetheart,” he tells me before his tongue slides into my mouth and his body enters mine.

  I stay at Jackson’s until we leave for New York. It happened sort of by accident. I overslept; he had an early morning meeting and said he didn’t want to wake me. That afternoon he came in with arms full of bags from Saks Fifth Avenue. When I asked if they were for me he nodded with a Cheshire smile. I had to pinch myself.

  “I’m not good at picking out clothes but I figured you were like a size three and my shopper picked out these things for you for New York.”

  I was speechless as I looked through designer jeans with expertly chosen tops to match them, a week’s worth of lingerie that was smooth as butter, and three cocktail dresses with labels inside of them that read Dolce & Gabbana, Silvia Tcherassi, and Balenciaga.

  “Algine s
aid shoe sizes run differently.”

  “Who is Algine?” I ask in disbelief. He chuckles.

  “My personal shopper,” he says simply, like everyone has one. Of course he has a personal shopper, he’s rich as fuck!

  “He said it’d be better for you to try them on so you can go and pick out whatever you want. It’ll all be under my account.”

  “Jackson, are you insane?” I ask him once I look through everything. He only gives me a sheepish smile.

  “You deserve this, let me spoil you.” And so I spoiled him the rest of the afternoon. Algine also persuaded him to make me an appointment at one of the most exclusive salons in Chicago, which he was able to get me into that afternoon.

  Algine was nothing less than I expected; dressed impeccably in a designer suit, plucked brows, his skin glowed, he was effortlessly prettier than me. I have always gotten compliments on my hair; it’s naturally thick and so dark it looks shiny without me doing much, but after getting treatment at Algine’s salon of choice my dark locks glisten and make my eyes seem almost ethereal they’re so bright now.

  Each night we went to an elegant restaurant. My body was draped in one of the designer garments he bought, my feet in shoes I’d only ever seen Instagram models wear. I felt like I was in a different world with Jackson. I didn’t feel like a twenty-three-year-old girl trying to figure things out, but a woman who knows what she wants and how to get it.

  * * *

  We meet Parker at Delmonico’s, Jackson’s favorite New York steakhouse, and it’s traditionally classic with a twist of sex appeal, just like him. We’re already seated and having drinks when Parker arrives wearing a beautiful navy blue long-sleeved sheath dress, a tan Celine bag on her arm. Her eyes bulge when she sees me. We run to each other as only girls can in tall heels, and bear hug.

  “You look so hot!” I exclaim, but Parker always does. She’s never been a stranger to designer garb. Ever since her father became a rich investment banker, Parker has been wearing Balmain and Chanel while most of us were happy to just catch a sale at Tory Burch.

  “Oh my God you look so amazing,” she says, taking in my newly-treated hair, my face highlighted with Chanel makeup, the dark red Dolce & Gabanna dress hugging my body, black St. Lauren ankle strap heels gracing my feet. Jackson greets her all tall, distinguished, and ruggedly handsome, and flashes her a heart-stopping smile.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Parker. I’ve heard so much about you.” She holds his hands silently, assessing him, and from her held-in breath and flushing cheeks I can tell he definitely gets her approval. Jackson walks us back to the table where Parker apologizes for being late, having had to see Bradley off to the airport. Jackson is as charming as ever, asking Parker about herself, letting us tell him about our friendship, and she shares embarrassing stories from our college days. He is charming and attentive and completely engaged and I know by the time our dessert arrives he’s won her over.

  “I’m going to the restroom ladies,” he tells us and gives me a soft kiss before excusing himself. Parker immediately turns to me, her eyes wide and face lit up.

  “Madison he is ahhmazing.” I smile proudly. Before I can respond she says, “I see how he enamored the unenamorable, he’s charming, and mature, and of course gorgeous as hell…”

  “Is he too good for me? Be honest Parks,” I ask seriously and her face twists up in disgust.

  “Are you kidding? Why would he be too good for you? You’re young, smart, beautiful. In New York you’d have been snatched up by someone like him as arm candy a long time ago.”

  “…I mean more, to be more than arm candy.” Our eyes meet and her gleeful expression softens, her mouth partly falling open.

  “You’re in love with him?” she asks somberly. I freeze.

  “I-I don’t know. You know I hate that word, what it does, what it means.” My breath starts to speed up she grabs my hand and squeezes it.

  “Oh Madison I don’t know. Is he looking for that? He’s great but has he been married? Does he want kids? You’ve never wanted to be anyone’s wife and you’re always bouncing back and forth on the subject of kids. Are you on the same page?” she asks me and I don’t have anything to say. These are more like the kind of responses I’d get from Mel, not Parker.

  “Look, that got really heavy…don’t get caught up in your own thoughts okay? Enjoy this. I’ve never seen you look this happy and that’s what’s important.”

  Jackson comes back to the table giving me a soft kiss on the neck, and I smile the rest of dinner but it’s forced because I can’t shake Parker’s words from my mind. Has he ever been married? Does he want kids? Do I?

  I’m not the woman who knows what she wants. I’m the girl afraid to ask the questions and even worse, I’m afraid to answer them for myself. Jackson pays for dinner and leaves a generous tip.

  “So did I pass the test?” Jackson asks Parker with all the charm in the world. She lets out a dainty giggle.

  “With flying colors,” she replies with a perfunctory nod.

  “I wish you were both staying longer. I could maybe finally convince Mads why her beloved city is an imitation.” They’re both light and happy and I feel like a dreary anchor pulling the mood down. Jackson looks at me curiously and squeezes my hand.

  “I have business in Texas but we can definitely make our way back soon,” he promises her and she looks pleased. The valet brings Parker’s grey Audi around and we hug and squeeze each other again.

  “Love you Parks,” I tell her before she pulls off. Jackson’s hand slides across the small of my back, a wide charming smile on his face. But it falls when he looks at me.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. I perk myself up. “Yeah, my head’s a little foggy from the wine is all.” I run my thumb through his beard.

  “Are you okay to see the show?”

  “Yeah, I’m just going to take a little nap in the car,” I promise him as his driver pulls up for us. I’m still quiet on the ride to the theater. I laugh to myself

  Ride to the theater.

  I wouldn’t have imagined myself saying that last month. Jackson is glued to his phone but gently strokes my shoulder all the way there. There were so many good choices to choose from but I ultimately chose Moulin Rouge since it’s one of my favorite movies. The seats are amazing and the moment the music starts my distracted thoughts are gone and I’m enraptured by it. It’s spectacular: the singing, the music, the story, interesting and immersive. I find myself crying at the end of it, never having seen something so beautiful in my life. Jackson kisses me softly on the cheek and smiles at me as the audience gives the cast a standing ovation.

  “Thank you for this,” I tell him and his hug envelops me.

  We fall into bed and it’s the first night we’ve been together without having sex. It feels nice and is so comforting that I can be with him like this...and I start to realize there’s more to this than just sex.

  Six

  We jet off to Boston early the next morning and the suite is just as glamourous as the other places we’ve stayed. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to check into a regular room and not have a personal concierge and butler to tend to your every whim.

  “How long are you going to be working today?” I ask him falling onto the king-size bed. He’s already showered and dressed in a dark grey suit. He looks like he stepped right out of an Armani ad.

  “All afternoon but I’ve had the concierge make you an appointment for a full day at the spa and by the time you’re done, if you’re up for it, we’ll have dinner with my best friend Russell.” I immediately sit up; my heart is released from the anxiety that’s been gripping it.

  “You want me to meet your best friend?” I say unable to contain my smile. He swaggers over to me, sits on the edge of the bed, kissing me softly even though I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.

  “Of course I do. You’re important to me, you opened up a part of your life so I want to show you a part of mine.” I slide
my hand across the back of his neck and give him a deep but closed-mouth kiss since I haven’t brushed yet. I spend the majority of the day, as Jackson promised, being rubbed, kneaded, and primped. I’m floating on a cloud by the time I’m back to the room where I take extra care to do my hair and makeup. I pull my hair back into a low tight ponytail and apply a sleek dark line across my eye, add a nude lip, and apply a glamourous faux mink pair of lashes that highlight my eyes. I want to look especially good tonight since I’m meeting someone close to him; it eases the nerves that have started to build in me.

  “You look amazing,” he marvels as I slip into the white Maserati he’s chosen for his toy for Boston.

  “So do you,” I tell him, giving him a sensuous kiss.

  “How long have you and Russell been friends?” I ask, sticking a piece of gum in my mouth.

  “Longer than you’ve been alive,” he teases and I playfully frown at him.

  “Since the second grade. We went to the same elementary school. Our parents were best friends and so were we.”

  The restaurant we walk into isn’t like any that I’ve been to with Jackson before. This one is modern, decorated in a purple and grey scheme, some sort of techno pop music playing in the background. This is trendy and the crowd is noticeably younger. We’re greeted by the host who gives us a forced half smile before leading us to a large booth where Russell stands. He has dark blond hair a little shorter than Jackson’s, is almost as handsome, just as impeccably dressed, and beside him is a beautiful girl who looks around my age. She’s almost six feet tall, with platinum blonde hair and stunning green eyes. She looks like she walked straight off of a magazine cover.