Mad About You: A Box Set

by Pamela Ann

  No. Not yet. I had so much to say. If he used force to push me away, then so be it.

  “What are you doing here, Drew? And why did Jackson send me here … in this hotel? I don’t get any of this.”

  He tensed before looking away and staring at the door then back at my face again. “I live here part-time—well, it was part-time, anyway, but as of today, this is my full-time residence.”

  “But how can you afford to live here?” I asked before another thought dawned on me. “Unless you’re free-loading off of her. Drew, that’s not right. You—”

  “Chloe, for once in your life, just stop!” he thundered out. “I’m not free-loading off anyone. I pay for my own. Is that enough to get you off my back?”

  I felt like a tool. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so judgmental,” I muttered lamely while he simply glared at me. “You really don’t want to talk?” After what I had just accused him of, I doubted he would be accommodating. Sometimes, my mouth really needed to just zip it.

  “I’m right here, aren’t I?” He sounded so wounded.

  Had I realized before that his detachment was his way of needing space to think … But that text message hadn’t helped. In fact, it had pushed me to make a decision.

  “I didn’t intend for it to happen. I swear. Please … You have to believe me.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” he immediately retorted.

  He was so apathetic I couldn’t be too sure if he was being sarcastic or understanding.

  I had to set my pride aside and keep on pleading, hoping he would see my side and not rush to judge. We hadn’t gotten here all by my doing. He had taken part in it, too.

  “I know it’s wrong to even say it, but I hope you can forgive me.” I had hurt him, and that hadn’t been my intention at all.

  He blew out a breath, edgily shrugging. “You don’t need my forgiveness. There’s nothing between us, Chloe.”

  He was bluffing. I knew he was.

  “Your face earlier today told me otherwise.”

  “It meant nothing,” he vehemently stated.

  My heart went out to him. My hands itched to touch him, just as they had merely a few days ago. I missed him, but I had no grounds to, not after what he had witnessed. Though my throat constricted, I knew I had to say it.

  “It meant nothing to me, Drew,” I blurted out, watching him flinch.

  As he ran a hand through this hair, his chiseled chest heaved before my very eyes, drawing my eyes toward his lack of apparel.

  “Right, so what do you want me to say? Bravo?” he jeered.

  “You don’t have to be like this.”

  “It has to be like this, Chloe!”

  “But—” I tried to argue, but he held his hand up, stopping me.

  “You have to stop with the excuses! Own up to it. You fucked him, and you enjoyed it. Well done, you! So now, can we please get on with our lives? Because I already have, and this thing that you’re doing, rehashing events of your own doing, means nothing to me. You mean nothing to me!”

  His last few words hit me hard. He had been callous before, but this … This was a new level of cruelty.

  Tears fell, and I didn’t even try to wipe them away. Instead, I gazed at him, braving out the frostiness of his glare.

  “I just don’t know what to do. I can’t function, knowing I caused you pain. I’ve apologized, but you don’t want it. I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am.”

  “You caused me nothing, Chloe. You caused me nothing at all from start to finish. How clear do you want me to be?” he sneered, revolted.

  Clear as crystal.

  “I think you’ve said enough. No need to spell it out for me.” Without another glance, I walked away from him and everything I had once loved with all of my heart.

  ★

  It was Friday afternoon, and I was heading toward my very first job interview. To say I was beyond nervous would be an understatement.

  Ever since Monday night after I had left the hotel, I’d been functioning like a zombie. Sleep and food were the least of my priorities. My mind always zoned in on the past, recalling how I could have—would have—done things differently. But yesterday, one call had changed my perspective.

  Had it not been for this job opportunity, I probably would be staring into space instead of sitting outside the office of Teen Vogue’s famed editor-in-chief, waiting for my turn to be interrogated.

  I couldn’t be too sure what the questions would entail, but I had come here with a good mindset and willingness to work with whatever task she handed me. Anything, really, just to get me out of the rut I was in.

  Five minutes later, I found myself almost in the hot seat. Well, based on the way she looked at me, the woman took the saying “resting bitch face” to another level.

  “My brother called in a favor. He’s not one to do such things,” she stated succinctly and with just enough edge to make the person on the receiving end pay acute attention to her. “But here I am, making an exception for Miss Chloe Armstrong.”

  Needless to say, I began to sweat profusely. “Thank you. It’s very kind of you to do so.”

  Mandy Johnson simply ignored me as her eyes raked my meager résumé. While doing so, she gave me a little breathing room, just enough not to pass out before she brought me back with a mere question that sent my mind into a confused tizzy.

  “What’s your size?”

  Blinking at her, I bit into my lip, clueless as a little bird. “My size?” Did she mean shoe size or clothing-wise?

  “Clothes, dear.”

  Oh. This was fashion; of course she would ask me something relevant to the field.

  Clearing my throat, I made a face before speaking. “Well, that depends on the season.”

  “Clarify that,” she shot out with a raised brow, her eyes narrowed.

  “Spring and summer, I’m a six, but fall and winter, I’m a four.” Stupid me. Why did I have to complicate things? I could have simply answered it instead of drawing more ire.

  “Interesting.” She pressed her lips together then placed my résumé down in front of her and facing me with a considering look. “Have you considered that it could be due to water retention?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Her eyes narrowed again. “Hmm.” She dismissed the subject altogether. “Your résumé shouldn’t be considered as one. Have you no job experience? Not one to your name?”

  I had expected this. Of course I had.

  Shaking my head, I addressed her question, “No, this is my first job interview.”

  “Sad.” She sounded just the opposite of the word. “Are you sure you’re cut out to work? If this were a normal interview, I wouldn’t even waste another minute of my time. Let me clarify that I don’t babysit privileged brats, and if you fail at one task, don’t wait for me to fire you; just leave your keycard on your desk and never come back. Am I understood, Chloe Armstrong?”

  My mouth went dry. “I understand.”

  “Do you, Chloe Armstrong?” She gave me a stern look, pinning me down with those eyes of hers. “You’re going to be in a trial position for eight weeks. We’ll re-evaluate then if you’re worthy to stay indefinitely. You start a week from today.”

  She had just hired me, hadn’t she? Holy guacamole! My first job, and at Teen Vogue! Courtney would be in hysterics.

  “Thank you. Thank you for this amazing chance! I promise to work extremely hard.”

  “Do.” She raised her brow at me before taking a deep breath. “Life is about experiences. Late comers never win at anything,” she said chidingly before adding, “And, Chloe?”

  My little inner victory dance came to a screeching halt when my gaze connected with hers. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Dress accordingly. Don’t disappoint me with funeral clothes.”

  “Of course.”

  Funeral clothes? I thought black was always a staple? Well, since I was going to be in Teen Vogue, I supposed a drastic change in my color preference would be
good. I had eventually warmed to red. A few more hues wouldn’t hurt. Chuey and Manolo would surely love to go shopping with me.

  Jesus, Mandy Johnson was terrifyingly cutting, not to mention grueling. Holy crap, the woman was going to make me really work for it. God, help me, because I would need it around here.

  A celebratory drink with the boys was in order, but when my mind argued that maybe I should call and thank Drew for this brilliant idea of his, the little happiness I was basking in immediately fizzled. Drew wouldn’t welcome my call, but it had still been so kind of him to ask his friend to do this for me..

  Who knew what the future held? This could be my calling for all I knew.

  I got home, feeling upbeat, and headed straight into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of orange juice. While shuffling through the mail that was stacked neatly on the counter, my eyes were drawn to a smooth, black envelope that had expensive written all over it. Heck, even by touching it, you could immediately tell by the texture and the weight of the stationary.

  Who would send us this? It was addressed to Jackson and me, but when I flipped it over to check out whom it was from, there was no addresses.

  “Odd.” Placing my drink down, I hesitantly opened it and was stunned to realize that it had come from someone who was apparently close to Drew. Close enough to throw him a birthday party in the Hamptons.

  It’s his birthday. How could I have forgotten that it was coming up? Jackson, no doubt, would go. But should I? Was I brave enough to see him? I wasn’t sure. I supposed I would soon find out.

  Chapter 55

  Jackson didn’t disclose much information as we rode in a hired car to the Hamptons. Instead of choosing to go dress shopping, I had decided against it and worn my staple little black dress. The last thing I wanted was to appear like I had made an effort to look good for him.

  True to his word, he had made the hotel his primary residence and hadn’t stepped foot in the condo since that incident six days ago. In a way, I couldn’t blame him. The hotel was top notch and had everything he wanted instead of living in our not so humble but still incomparable standards. If he could afford to live in such a lavish lifestyle, then more power to him.

  Coming here meant closure for me because I had to get used to seeing him once in a while for special occasions and such. Therefore, I had convinced myself that today would be a good way to practice.

  Back in the day, I would have opted for a thoughtful present like baking him a cake or something much more personal. This time was different, however. I had actually gone out and bought him a Mont Blanc pen with his initials engraved on it. Since his life had drastically changed, and he had become suaver and more businesslike, I was sure this would come in handy if he chose to use it. I wouldn’t care either way. He could throw it away for all I cared.

  The journey occupied my thoughts. Cori and I had gone out last night. It was unexpected, but when he called to say hi and I had badly itched to share my good news, he had ended up inviting me for a drink to a cozy restaurant a block away. Although we had parted ways after finishing a bottle of wine and some appetizers, he had left with the promise that he would be taking me out for a movie next week. He had said he ought to woo me, but knowing how he worked, I remained tentative.

  Before I could get any further into my thoughts, the driver entered a winding driveway with manicured lawns, topiaries, and trees leading to a breathtaking mansion, the biggest I had ever seen.

  “Wow, Drew’s rolling with really super wealthy people these days, huh?” I gushed loudly before catching myself when I caught the driver’s grin in the rearview mirror.

  “It comes with the territory, I guess. You really should go out more, Chloe. Things are done differently around here. You’ll see,” Jackson said as the driver rounded the entrance to the beautiful palatial home.

  Jackson meant well. Maybe he was referencing how I had been spending my time with bartenders and the like, but I didn’t mind. They were my friends, and I wouldn’t trade them for people with mansions or expensive cars. I was fine with where I was. Nevertheless, if these were the things Jackson and Drew liked, then I respected that.

  Shrugging, I thanked the kind driver who opened the door for me before bidding us a good time.

  As I held my brother’s arm, we entered the large, beige doors where a waiter patiently stood, greeting us politely before offering us a glass of champagne.

  My eyes immediately scanned the place, ignoring the waiter. White and earthy tones perfectly meshed together, both representing wealth and glamour in the most understated way. But before my eyes could explore further, my view was blocked by an aged man and woman, making me blink a few times.

  “Jackson, nice of you to come and join us!” the man boomed in a British voice.

  “You look well, Jackson,” the woman next to the man, whom I presumed was her husband, greeted my brother with a gorgeous smile.

  She was young, roughly around her early thirties. Being married to a powerful man apparently had its advantages, not to mention security and companionship. Besides, the older man was genuinely handsome. Sans peppered hair, I could’ve mistaken him for someone much younger.

  “It’s good to see you both, Mr. and Mrs. Cavendish,” Jackson nonchalantly stated before turning toward me. “This is my sister, Chloe. And this is Drew’s father, Conrad, and stepmother, Caroline.”

  His father? Uh, what? When had this piece of garbage come out of the woodwork?

  My mind reeled as I tried to summon a smile, but my lips wouldn’t function. “It’s great to meet you both … finally.” Far from it.

  So, this was what Drew had been hiding? His fucking father? Was that where his new found wealth had come from? But I thought he hated the man. Not only that, but this prick had abandon him when he was only two years old … and now, all of a sudden, they had decided to play family again? What the flying fuck! No wonder Jackson and Drew had been at odds. I would have been, too. Hell, even if Drew was the last person I wanted to see, I was still protective of him.

  After we made pleasantries, I was about to drag Jackson to the nearest private area to grill him when Drew appeared out of nowhere with a woman hanging off his arm. And boy, was she gorgeous.

  Jealousy ate me alive. It engulfed me, seizing me as I helplessly stared at them both. My eyes diverted elsewhere when I noted that they were on their way toward us.

  “Jackson, Chloe, thanks for coming.” Drew grinned at us, as if he and I hadn’t had a falling out six days ago. “This is Poppy,” he proudly introduced her without meeting my gaze. “This is Jackson, my best friend since childhood, and his little sister Chloe.”

  “Lovely to meet you both, but most especially you, Jackson. I’ve heard a lot of about you.”

  British. Again. Wait, that voice. I had heard it before … Then everything clicked in my once dull mind. At the hotel, it was her who had inquired if it was the strawberries and champagne. Well, I supposed she was my replacement, then. That hadn’t taken long.

  Who was I kidding? I had jumped the gun way before he had. According to him, I deserved all of these rotten feelings that were filling me. Yes, this was all my doing, but Drew didn’t need to take every chance he got to make sure I knew how badly I had lost him.

  Feeling faint, I cleared my throat and quickly excused myself. I wasn’t even sure what excuse I blurted out. All I knew was I needed to get the fuck away from them, STAT.

  Scramming toward the outdoors, I plucked two champagne flutes from a passing waiter, downing them one after the other until fresh air greeted my face. The backyard consisted of a massive patio, pool, and a vast expanse of manicured lawn overlooking the beach. It was all so beautiful, but everything was a blur. All I could think about was Drew and Poppy.

  I can do this. Just breathe Once the shock wore off, I would be in much better shape. Well, I hoped I would be, or else, I would have to stay hidden out here. Fuck, how can he look so fucking happy while I’m crumbling inside?

  “I’ve been
looking for you.” Jackson appeared right next to me.

  Without glancing at him, I bit the bottom of my lip, hoping the burn in the back of my eyes would go away. The last thing I needed was to make this debacle a perfect shit storm by uncontrollably crying like someone had died. Well, maybe something had. I had heard my heart crack, shattered into smithereens. There was no repairing it.

  The devil was hard at work today. He taunted me by having Drew, Poppy, and his stepmother, Caroline, appear a few feet away. They seemed to be sharing a great story, because I heard them laugh while Drew held Poppy’s back, as if he were protective of her, as if he truly cared for her and he simply couldn’t get enough.

  Thirty more minutes and then I’d Uber my way out of here. Hell, I would take the bus out of here if I had to as long as I was away from this nightmare.

  I felt as though, each time I glanced at him, my heart was punctured by a knife, bleeding out until it was dead and gone.

  “Caroline seems too cozy to be his stepmother, I found myself saying, loathing the fact that the woman was inappropriately feeling his muscles right where everyone could see. What the hell?

  Jackson followed my gaze then let out a dark laugh. “She’s trying to secure the upgrade before dumping the older version.”

  Ew.

  “You’re not serious?” He had to be joking, right? That was disgusting.

  “I mean, look at her. She calls and always goes out with him for lunches and dinners. She’s worse than a stalker, but Drew sees it as affection.” He shrugged, as if he couldn’t believe his best friend was so naïve.

  Heck, I had just met them, and I could easily tell she was too close for comfort. But as for Drew mistaking it for affection, it wasn’t hard to believe. He didn’t know any better.

  “His mother didn’t give him any, so cut him some slack.”

  “He’s just fitting right in as if the past eighteen years didn’t fucking happen, as if we didn’t matter. We were his family, too. We were there for him more than these fuckers ever were. Look at him now. It’s like none of that bullshit fazes him.”