“Yes. So, I’m work, am I?” His voice was deep and smooth, even better than she remembered.
“You’d better be, since I told you not to call me unless it has to do with business. How did you get this number anyway?”
“Your mother gave it to me a while back. Luckily I kept it in my contacts.”
“Then you ought to be talking to my mother, since it’s her number you called.”
“I tried to call you, have been all day, but you never answer your cell.”
“I switched off the ringer. It’s Christmas Day, remember?”
“So it is.”
She walked over to a square, well-padded ottoman upholstered in celadon geometrics and sank down. “What do you want, Maddox? Why are you calling me?”
“Do I have to have a reason? It’s Christmas, remember?”
“I’ve already told you—”
“I know what you told me and I’ve been doing my best to keep my distance until the divorce comes through.”
“Maddox—”
“Look, all I really wanted was to wish you Merry Christmas.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, a hard lump aching in her chest. “You could have just left me a message.”
“I could. But I wouldn’t have gotten to talk to you, to hear you. I miss you, Brie.”
I miss you too, she thought. So much. Too much.
“I know you’re angry with me and I understand,” he said. “But I really am getting divorced. The petition is already filed. I’ll send over a copy so you can see for yourself.”
“No, I don’t need to see it. I believe you, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.”
“Of course it does. It changes everything.”
“Not the fact that you lied to me. Divorced or not, you can’t take that back. How can I ever trust you again? How can I know there won’t be other lies? Another convenient set of half-truths somewhere down the line?”
He was silent so long she wondered if he was still there. Then he spoke again. “You’re right. You can’t. I guess it comes down to you having faith in me when I tell you I’m sorry and that I will never lie to you again. I suppose it means you’ll have to forgive me. Please, sweetheart. Please forgive me. I love you, Brie. Nothing is the same without you.”
A tear slid over her cheek, but she backhanded it away. She couldn’t let herself weaken, no matter the temptation.
“I love you too,” she whispered. “But I just can’t.”
“Now. You can’t now.”
She sighed. “Maddox, don’t call me anymore. And from now on, even if it’s business, leave a message with my assistant first.”
Another silence. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is. Look, I should go.”
“Okay, but at least tell me you had a good day. Lots of food and presents, right? Was your whole family there?”
At the reminder, her spirits sank even lower. “Yes, everyone was here.” She fought for a breezy tone. “Lots of food. Lots of presents. How about you? Did you see Daphne or your mother and stepfather and little brothers?”
“No, not this year. We Skyped. Almost the same thing.”
“It’s not. You should have gone out to be with them.”
“Next year. Too much to do here at the hotel.”
On the other end of the phone, Maddox raked his fingers through his already messy hair. He was on the sofa in his penthouse living room, the city dark and cold beyond the windows despite all the festive lights.
Or maybe he was the one who felt dark and cold without Brie’s warmth beside him.
“Did you get the present I sent?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m afraid I haven’t opened it yet. I don’t think I should. I’m going to send it back.”
“Don’t.” His voice turned hard. “It’s nothing much. Just something I saw in a store that made me think of you. I won’t take it back, so don’t bother trying to return it. Give it away if you don’t like it.”
“I—all right.”
That’s when he heard it, the sadness. Yet it was something different from the tone she used when she was talking about their difficulties. He refused to call it their breakup, since in spite of her unwillingness to forgive him, to trust him, he hadn’t given up hope.
Not completely.
And most definitely not after she’d admitted that she loved him, even now.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You mean beside the fact that I’m talking to you?”
He smiled. “Yes, besides that. Something’s happened. What is it?”
She sighed. And again he could hear the underlying pain in the sound. “Nothing. Just something with the family.”
“What about the family? I thought all of you got along like a house on fire.”
“We do.”
“So what is it?”
“Have you ever thought maybe it’s none of your business?”
He didn’t answer, just waited for her to go on.
“It’s Caroline.”
“Your sister-in-law?”
“Yes, she”—her voice cracked a bit—“she’s sick. Cancer. It’s inoperable. She’s not going to make it.”
“Ah, shit, Brie, that’s awful. She’s so young.”
“She is. I forgot—you met her, didn’t you?”
“Yes, at your sister’s wedding. I liked her a lot. She seems like a kind, lovely person.”
“She is. She’s one of best people I know.”
“And now she’s sick. How’s your brother doing? And their kids? They have little kids, don’t they?”
“Yes, and it’s taking its toll. I don’t know how they’re going to bear losing her, especially P.G. She’s always been his rock, the very center of his world.”
Like you’ve become for me, Maddox thought.
And in such a short amount of time. But then, not really, since he’d known her for decades, loved her since he was a kid, if truth be known.
He heard her crying softly. “What can I do?”
“Nothing.” She sniffed, struggled to pull herself together. “There’s nothing to be done.”
“If you think of anything, anything at all, just tell me. Nothing is too big or small.”
She sniffed again. “Thanks. Now, I really should go. I’m surprised Mom hasn’t come in here to make me quit ‘working.’”
He paused for a moment. “Brie.”
“What?”
“I know we have our issues, but if you ever just need to talk, you know I’m always here.”
“I know.” But it didn’t sound like she would take him up on it. “Merry Christmas, Maddox.”
“Merry Christmas, Brie.”
Then she was gone, the dial tone filling the empty air.
Reluctantly, he hung up too.
* * *
Upstairs in her childhood bedroom a few hours later, Brie sat on the bed, the present Maddox had given her in her hands. She traced the faint shimmer of the pretty red paper and festive gold bow, knowing she should simply return it as she’d told him she was going to.
Instead, she hesitated briefly, then reached out to tear open the paper.
Inside were two gifts, one square and boxy, the other long, narrow, and rectangular. She opened the long present first, her suspicions confirmed when she saw that it was jewelry. Light and delicate, the gold bracelet was covered in dozens of small diamonds that shimmered in the low lamplight. She lifted it free, and as she did, a tiny heart swung near the clasp. Her name was engraved on its face.
Nothing much, huh.
She skimmed a fingertip over the engraving, then laid the bracelet aside. She picked up the other box.
Inside was a ceramic mug with the words “World’s Greatest Backswing” emblazoned on the
front.
Her lips parted and a laugh escaped. He’d tucked a little note inside the cup. She opened it and read:
In memory of the second first time we met.
She laughed again, cradling the mug inside her hands.
And then she started to cry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A cold December slid into a raw January with ice and winds that rattled the bones. February turned wet and snowy with a nor’easter that forced everyone inside and left the city coated in a thick blanket of white. So it was with relief that March brought glimpses of spring as the temperatures rose and the ice and snow began to melt.
But the same could not be said for Brie, who kept her distance from Maddox, determined to erase him from her mind and heart. If only she could put in a call to the IT department and have a tech clean and reboot that part of her hippocampus, it would make her days and nights so much easier to bear—especially her nights, when she ached without him next to her in her cold, lonely bed.
But people were not machines, however much she tried to function like one at work. As his attorney, she had to handle his legal work, had to see his name and be reminded of him and everything they no longer had.
To her relief, he’d done as she asked and had stopped calling her directly, leaving messages with Gina or Trish instead. Lately, she and Maddox had taken to exchanging impersonal e-mails that focused exclusively on business, tending to avoid phone calls unless absolutely necessary, since the conversations were always awkward at best.
As for the divorce he was supposedly getting, she hadn’t heard a word. A circumstance that left her feeling alternately justified in her decision to cut him out of her life as much as possible, and wallowing in a pit of misery and despair.
She’d learned through Trish that Maddox had flown to England a few days earlier; the new M Hotel London was moving along at a brisk pace. The building contracts had been settled and the permits cleared. The official ground breaking would be next week.
Even so, Maddox walked into the courtroom exactly on time. Today was the civil trial for the Mergenfeld suit. There was no jury; the case would be decided by a judge.
Maddox said a quiet hello to her and her cocounsel, then took a seat in his place at the defendant’s table.
He looked wonderful. His dark hair was neatly cut and combed. His gray suit conservative but not too severe, the slim gold watch on his wrist his only adornment.
She resisted the urge to stare, her pulse beating heavily, and looked down at her notes.
It was his right to be here for the proceedings, but she wished he’d sent one of his lieutenants. Even with her second chair seated between them, having him so close was going to play havoc with her nerves.
She could even smell him, very faintly, the fresh, clean scent of his soap always better than the cologne he chose not to wear. It brought back so many memories, emotions, and cravings that had no place in a courtroom.
But she was prepared and knew the case inside out. Even with Maddox here, she felt confident about how to proceed. After all the time and effort she and her team had put in, she wasn’t messing up this case because she and the client happened to have a history.
She sensed, rather than saw, Roger Mergenfeld walk in—or rather strut in. She’d met him only once at his deposition, but there was something distinctly surfer-dude about him, from his sun-bleached blond hair to his tanned, weather-roughened skin, which frankly looked a bit odd this time of year, at least in New York.
How Mergenfeld and Maddox had ever been friends, let alone business partners, was a real head-scratcher. They seemed almost nothing alike and she couldn’t help but wonder if alcohol might have been involved somewhere along the line years ago, before Maddox had stopped drinking anything stronger than coffee.
Mergenfeld, she noticed, didn’t look at Maddox, almost as if he was ashamed to make eye contact.
Maddox had no such problem, gazing directly, steadily at the other man, who had become a nagging, whining thorn in his side—one he planned to pull out with her help.
Mergenfeld and his lawyers conferred from their seats behind the plaintiffs’ table, his lead attorney pausing once they were done to trade a moment of small talk with her. She knew him from various legal mixers and other lawsuits; she’d never liked him.
He gave her a slick, toothy smile.
She smiled back—no teeth—then laid her pen on top of her notes as if she knew every word by heart and had no doubt she would win.
The judge entered from his chambers; they all stood.
Once the judge, a practical, intelligent man who had no patience for nonsense or grandstanding, was seated, the proceedings began.
* * *
Maddox sat respectfully in his chair and watched Brie work. He’d never heard or seen her in a courtroom and she was nothing short of magnificent. Articulate yet personable with just the right amount of friendly charm, she was able to put the witnesses at ease, even the ones who were there to represent the other side. She deftly questioned each of them, eliciting testimony that helped his side and seemed to undermine the other. Her cocounsel wasn’t bad either, but to Maddox, she was the standout.
He thought they were winning; at least they seemed to be to his way of thinking. But the judge was like a sphinx. Who knew which way the old man was really leaning?
As for Mergenfeld, whom he hadn’t seen in years, he hardly spared a glance. The time had not been kind to the other man, his features dissipated from hard living and drink. Probably drugs as well; Roger had never been the type to hold back on anything that fed his pleasure-driven lifestyle.
It was one of the things they’d disagreed the most over. At a time when Roger had been getting more deeply involved in the party scene, Maddox had been moving further away from it. He’d been neck-deep in the new business, his marriage had been crashing around him, and he’d started living on sleeping pills and too much booze.
Ironically, Roger had been the one to set him on the path to sobriety by offering him drugs. Just some uppers to “get him through.”
But the suggestion had reminded him of his father, who’d thrown away his life and his family for money and a quick high. When his father had gone down, he’d taken the whole family with him, leaving them with nothing, their old life burned to cinders. Maddox’s teen years had been hard, angry, rebellious ones, yet somehow he had managed to come through in one piece.
But in that moment when Roger had offered him drugs, he’d realized just how easy it could be to end up like his old man. He was only a lost weekend or an illegal hit away from a jail cell.
From that day forward, he hadn’t had a drink or taken anything stronger than an aspirin. It had been one of the clearest and best decisions of his life.
Unlike Roger himself.
Incredible to think that he’d once partnered up with such a useless, narcissistic parasite. But Roger had been a parasite with money at a time when the banks wouldn’t touch him and no one else could, or would, give him a loan. Just starting out, he believed that Roger was the answer to a prayer. Roger would put up the cash for the hotel and leave the rest to Maddox.
When Roger had said he wanted to go his own way and took a payout, Maddox had been quietly relieved. But everything came with strings. He’d just never expected to find Roger still trying to pull them all these years later.
Across the courtroom, Roger got up the nerve to look at him; he smiled nervously.
Maddox stared back, unsmiling, and refused to look away until the smile fell off Roger’s face and he lowered his gaze.
Maddox listened again to the proceedings; Mergenfeld’s attorney was talking.
He watched Brie, wishing she’d said more to him this morning than hello. Seeing her after all these months apart was heaven and hell combined. But he supposed they’d said everything there was to say when they’d talked at Christmas.
Now it was up to him to get his divorce finalized, then convince Brie to take him back.
Damn Ellen, and damn her foot-dragging.
Brie told the judge she had no further questions and the witness left the stand.
The next witness was called and for a moment he couldn’t believe he’d heard right. He turned his head and there she was, walking forward.
Ellen.
* * *
Brie straightened her spine and forced her emotions to go dead. She had her job to do and no matter if it killed her, she wasn’t going to toss away winning this case because she didn’t want to put her ex-lover’s wife on the stand.
She didn’t dare look at Maddox; seeing him would surely put cracks in the band of frozen steel she’d wrapped around her heart. But she had to look at his wife; she really had no choice, since she would be questioning the woman.
Ellen Kilkenny Monroe was beautiful—there was no getting around that fact. Dark-haired with skin like a magnolia petal, and deep green eyes, she could have been a model had she wished. Brie had seen her deposition video and knew the other woman was pretty, but until she came face-to-face with her, Brie hadn’t realized how stunning she really was.
Brie’s heart gave a painful squeeze. No wonder he’d never divorced her. What man would?
But I have my job to do.
After the trial was done, though, she was going to step away from work with Maddox. Today had driven home the fact that being around him, but without him, was just too hard.
And if he and Ellen were actually divorcing?
She had no time to think about that now.
The gold cross around Ellen’s neck swung slightly as she lifted her hand from the Bible, her eyes calm as she waited.
Brie approached, doing a quick mental inventory of the things she planned to say.
“Thank you for agreeing to appear here today, Ms. Kilkenny.”
Ellen Kilkenny smiled slightly and inclined her head.
“First, I believe we need to establish your relationship to the defendant, Mr. Monroe.” Without really looking at him, she gestured toward Maddox. “Could you please tell us what that relationship is?”
“Yes, I am his wife.”
Mad About the Man Page 24
