“Well, why didn’t you say anything?” He actually looks as offended as he sounds. “You could have come to Vegas with me. Family should be together for the holidays.”
“You know that’s not my thing.”
“I could have stayed here with you.”
“I wouldn’t want you to give up something you want to do with your friends to hang out with me, Robert, especially considering we’re side by side practically all the time. You celebrate in your own way, as do I.”
“Vegas gets old really fast,” he tells me. There’s that enigmatic sparkle in his brown eyes. I’ve given up trying to figure out what it means. “If you don’t mind, how, exactly, did… you know… you end up with just you? Besides the part that I know, of course.”
I tell him in short, quick sentences my brief history of being an only child, my parents’ death, being raised by my grandmother until she died, and then living on my own. When I finish, he looks like he’s processing everything I’ve said. Which is fine and everything, but I really don’t want to talk about it anymore – a fact I let him know.
I’ve never actually told anyone what I’ve just told Robert, and I need time to process it too.
“That’s fine,” he says. “Okay, well did you hear that Harold Morris’s secretary, Kim Harden, is returning from vacation after New Year’s? I think she went to New York or something. Harold mentioned that she met up with his son James while she was there. I know Kim is probably the last person you want to discuss, but I figure you’d rather talk about her than you would about yourself. Even though –” And here, he gets up and then sits down next to me. Too close to me, in my own opinion. But I don’t move. – “you can tell me anything. You know that, right Maddy? I probably tell you more than you want to know, but you should know – I want you to know – that you can tell me anything.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, feeling the corner of my lips curl up at his declaration.
“So what’s up between the two of you?” he asks me. “And don’t tell me there’s nothing going on when I notice the way you look at her. And don’t deny it either. You get this passive but determined look on your face whenever you see her, but your eyes give you away. Keep that in mind. So?” He cocks his head to the side and looks down at my face, awaiting my answer.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I mean, it started out silly. She’s a Dodgers fan, and I’m an Angels fan. And we would joke about it. But then I just felt this tension and…” I can’t believe I’m actually telling this to Robert – Robert of all people – but maybe it’s his promise of talking to him about anything that makes me I feel like I can. Not that I didn’t before, but I didn’t want to cross that line. But I’m starting to realize that maybe there isn’t a line in the first place. “There’s just something about her. Something I really don’t like, but I can’t explain it. It’s just a weird feeling I get. I don’t know.” I sink into the couch – I’m not sure how else to explain it.
Robert chuckles and nudges me with his shoulder. “Hey.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls something out. “I have something for you. You know, for Christmas.” He opens his hand so I see a necklace made with a simple black chain and a charm in the form of a star dangling from it. “Considering that you returned the car I got you and I have yet to see you wear the dress, I decided to make you something, and taking into consideration how much you like wishing on stars, I figured I’d give you one of your own.”
To say I’m touched by this thoughtful gesture would be an understatement, and my lips burst into a smile as I take the necklace in order to put it on. The charm can’t be made with anything other than scrap metal from his shop and yet, it’s probably the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen.
“Literally,” he finishes, and pulls out a piece of paper. “I had a star named after you. Madeline. You can’t actually return that, or wear it, but if you have a telescope, you can look at it every night and make a wish.” He hands me the paper so I can see it for myself. “And if you don’t have a telescope, I can always buy you one.”
“Oh, Robert,” I murmur, and before I can stop myself, I reach over and pull him into an awkwardly angled hug. He wraps his arms around me and holds me close, and I’m suddenly relaxed, content. An odd effect he has on me.
But I don’t care because Robert’s gift is exactly what I want.
“Oh!” I sit up, breaking free from Robert. “I have a gift for you too. But it’s not wrapped.”
I stand and walk into my bedroom, grab the box, and give it to Robert before taking a seat next to him. He gives me a look, tilting his head as he does so, and opens it up. There, folded neatly along with pure white tissue paper, is a robe.
“I just remember you telling me over and over again how much you wanted a robe in your favorite color,” I explain, feeling my face heat up as I watch him stare at the article of clothing. Does he like it? “I know it’s not red-red, but I thought burgundy is kind of red and would look really good on you…”
I let my voice trail off. He hasn’t said anything. Why hasn’t he said anything?
Great. He hates it. He probably hates it. He gets me this amazing necklace and has a star – a star! – named after me and I can only get him a robe? What am I thinking?
“You realize every time I wear this, I’m going to think of you,” he says, placing it back on his lap. “Maddy, calm down. I love it; you have no idea. Though I am wondering if this is just a ploy to get me to go to bed with you. You could have just asked me – this is Ralph Lauren,” he finishes abruptly.
I blink. “Yes,” I say.
“You don’t buy name brand clothing,” he says. Like I don’t know. “This is a really expensive purchase for you.”
“Robert, I didn’t get it for me, I got it for you. It’s durable and will last a long time, and it feels nice, and I know you like Ralph Lauren.”
He’s silent for another moment, simply looking at it. Then he snaps his eyes up at me. “Would you like me to model it for you?” he asks.
“I think I’m good,” I tell him. “But really, I’m glad you like it. I was worried you wouldn’t like the color and –”
“Maddy, you don’t have to get me anything.” His eyes get this intense brown, as though he really wants me to know this. “So when you do, and it’s thoughtful and since you actually care what I think about it, it means a lot.” He stops. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something. What was the deal with you yesterday? You just left so fast. Was it the speech? Okay, I know I should have told you beforehand you would be mentioned, but I didn’t say your name, and everyone’s still speculating, as far as I’m concerned and –”
“No, it wasn’t the speech,” I say, feeling myself sober at the topic of last night. I still have to tell Jewel about that. “It was surprisingly touching and endearing and honest. The speech was wonderful, Robert.”
I can tell that my words have struck some sort of chord with him, but even so, he tells me, “Don’t change the subject, Maddy, though it is always nice to hear how much you think of me.” He pushes his brows up, looking at me with a certain expectation. “What’s wrong? What happened? You just left. I was – am – worried about you.”
“It’s stupid,” I say, looking back down at my lap as I shake my head. “It’s nothing, nothing you need to worry about. What happened at the party last night…” I let my voice trail off, wondering just how to put into words how naïve I have been in regards to Ethan McCoy. “My entire perception of Ethan and Jewel being together is wrong – it was just wrong. And I know you’ve told me over and over that it’s wrong, but I just didn’t get it.”
Robert still has that intent look on his face, and he turns his torso so he can place his hands on my shoulders. “Madeline,” he says slowly, “what happened?”
“It was nothing.” I know I keep repeating it, but I don’t know what else to say. “It’s just… Ethan… He kissed me last night. And then I slapped him. And then he told me that he w
as too good for Jewel. Can you believe that? Too good for Jewel. That guy doesn’t deserve –”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Robert says, closing his eyes and dropping his head. “Ethan McCoy kissed you? On the mouth?” I chew my bottom lip, but nod. “Why didn’t you say anything? Maddy, oh my God, but you slapped him?”
I nod again. “Robert,” I say. “Please, just don’t make a big deal about this, okay? It’s nothing and I don’t want you to make more of it than it is.”
“Madeline, Ethan McCoy crossed a line,” he says, his voice firm and serious. “He kissed you. Without your permission, it sounds like. And you’re my assistant. I have to right this. God, I knew that guy was the biggest asshole on the planet. I’m going to have a serious conversation with him –”
“Robert, don’t.” Now it’s me who has a firm voice. And I lock eyes with him to ensure my point gets across. “Don’t talk to him. Don’t fix this. Nothing is broken, and I’ve taken care of it. I can take care of myself, you know. I don’t need you to fight my battles. People will assume things that aren’t true. And really, I don’t want to have to clean everything up, and you know Ethan will make a big deal about this.” I exhale slowly, hoping my voice isn’t as shaky as my breath is. “So I’m asking you, as your assistant and as your friend, please don’t.”
He’s silent for such a long time that I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until I need air.
And then he says, “Fine, Madeline.” He leans his head towards me so his forehead gently grazes mine. “I won’t. But listen, I know you’re independent and everything, but I will take care of you. You know…if you need it. And sometimes when you don’t. Because I want to.” His voice drops suddenly, giving me goosebumps once again. “I don’t like it when something happens to you. It just… It bothers me and I want to make it better.”
“You do make it better,” I hear myself say, and I admit that I’m leaning into his touch. How can I help it? “You listen to me. And you hear me. And that makes me feel better.”
Chapter 10
I wish I could say that New Year’s is simple and meaningful like Christmas was, but… Well, I suppose it’s more complicated than Christmas.
Even now I can hear his slurred voice, and I close my eyes, wishing that I’m home and not here, in Robert’s Malibu mansion, at some party I don’t want to be at. I finger the necklace he gave me a week ago, trying to listen in on what he’s saying, hoping he won’t reveal company secrets or anything crazy like that. But it’s not that difficult; when he gets drunk, he talks loudly, as if the drunker he gets, the less people can hear him.
“Back in 1938, before all of this.” He waves his arms dramatically, and the newest young woman he has with him blinks once, twice, and tilts her head in order to avoid his over-exaggerated gesture. “Before all of this wealth, people were trying to get rich. Prohibition had just ended. The Great Depression was still raging on. I mean, can you imagine? Can you imagine what it would be like to go through a depression?”
I clench my jaw as I watch the exchange. I really can’t do anything about it, despite the fact that they are in Robert’s house and I’m only a few feet away, champagne glass filled with apple cider left untouched in my hand, ears wide open to everything that’s being exchanged. And thank God it isn’t bodily fluids. Yet. Normally, I’m not too attuned to my boss’ little hookups with the numerous nameless faces, but I grow protective of him when he’s completely soused.
And Robert Swift is good at getting completely soused.
It’s easy to see why though. Robert Swift’s a billionaire with a successful company that he now runs. He’s handsome, charming, and very charismatic. Some might say that even though his parents died in a car accident fifteen years ago, when he was only fifteen, leaving him completely on his own, he was never lonely because he was never without company.
I, on the other hand, know better.
It was so easy for Robert to get back into the natural swing of things, but I have always suspected he likes when the cameras are flashing. I never really talk about it with him, but I think he likes that people like him. Even though I have never seen him serious with one woman, I think he wants to have a deeper relationship with someone, no matter how in denial he is about it. But the thing is, he doesn’t really trust anyone. Not after what happened with Dick, not after what happened with his parents, and because he’s wealthier than he can comprehend. People always seem to have hidden agendas and even someone as laidback as Robert Swift knows that there are some moments when he’s just being used. Which is fine, I guess, because he’s in on it; in a way, he’s using them too. Whether it’s to sell something, to buy something, or get off, he knows how to play the game.
And even though it appears as though he’s always with someone – and for the most part, he is – he can get lonely. Because he's not really with them. It's all for show, to keep his reputation intact. Which, in turn, makes him drink to excess.
Normally, I don’t have patience for people who have to feel better about themselves by losing their problems at the bottom of the bottle. Everyone has difficulties they have to endure, and they handle them in their own way. I’m not going to judge anyone else because I’ve never had to walk in their shoes, but I, myself, would never drink or do drugs in order to pretend my life was better, to make myself feel better. If I do that, my life won’t get anywhere, won’t get better. But because Robert is my boss, and even more than that, my friend, I make it a point to keep an extra-careful eye on him when he drinks. Not only does he want to forget his hardships, but a loose tongue and an even looser mind is just asking to be taken advantage of. And I want to prevent that.
Not that I believe this particular flavor of the hour would do that. In fact, I think she’s a little star-struck at being in Robert’s presence and probably wants to sleep with him just to say she did. Some might say that that’s being taken advantage of, but if you know Robert, you know he wants to be taken advantage of. But you never know who would betray you or when. Dick Ferguson was a close family friend who had watched Robert grow up and was there when his family had died. I don’t want the same thing to happen again. I was with Robert when he learned of Dick’s betrayal, and for such a strong, smart man, I think this broke him more than he was willing to admit.
Oh my gosh, my thoughts sound so serious. But I guess whenever I’m at one of Robert’s private parties, I really don’t have anything to do besides think on things I haven’t had time to figure out.
Setting my glass of cider down, I let a sigh slip out of my nose. Looks like I’m not going to be getting any bubbly tonight. I suppose it doesn’t matter that I don’t drink because Robert seems to be drinking for the two of us.
“When did this party begin?” a familiar voice asks from beside me.
I smile. “A couple of hours ago,” I reply before glancing over at Robert’s personal driver Sam.
Sam Lourdes has been Robert’s personal driver since about the same time I came to be his personal assistant. I could even go as far as to say that Robert and Sam are friends. In fact, I think they are; occasionally, Sam will come over to Robert’s house and the two will argue about cars, women, and baseball. I can’t say how far Robert trusts him, but besides me, Sam is all Robert has, and I count on him to help me keep Robert in line when I have too much on my plate.
“I’m actually surprised,” he says, and I roll my eyes, a soft smile on my face.
“I don’t know why he threw this stupid party when he knows how much it’ll affect him,” I murmur, needing to get my thoughts off my chest. If anyone will understand my frustration, it would be Sam.
It’s New Year’s Eve, and it’s the anniversary of his parents’ passing. I know it’s supposed to be a party for the new year and everything, but I know it’s really to get his mind off what he missed or to celebrate his family without actually acknowledging that he’s doing so. I told him this would be a bad idea from the moment he brought it up, but Robert is stubborn and doesn’t care. He
wanted the party at his modern-styled Malibu home, personalizing it even more.
Worse idea. But does he listen to me? No.
I think I fought with him at least three times about this before I finally backed off. It’s his memory, his money, his house, and I am his assistant. There’s nothing more I can do except to enlist Sam into helping me keep an eye on him.
“It’s just his way,” Sam says with an elegant shrug.
Most people I know – myself included – want to be alone and handle our sorrows behind closed doors. But Robert… He’s never shy, that’s for sure. And I think he’s a little bit in denial too. So I offer him my support as best as I can, keeping my opinion to myself. Though, I will have to give him a history lesson once he’s sober because everything he’s telling that poor girl isn’t exactly true.
“Let him handle it,” Sam adds and gives me a look that says, ‘Get me if you need me but I’m going to enjoy myself.”
I nod my head in understanding, and after I watch Sam slink into the crowd, I turn my focus back on my boss. The girl is probably my age, maybe a year younger, if that. I’m only twenty-four years old, but Robert doesn’t seem to have any preference when it comes to age. He likes them young, but not too young, but then again, he won’t deny a good-looking cougar or even giving a MILF some attention. Say whatever you want to say about Robert, but one of his most endearing qualities is that he’s able to find something lovely about any and every woman he comes in contact with. He loves women.
And women love Robert, though it’s no wonder why. If you take away the money, the power, and even the charm, Robert is still incredibly attractive. Yes, even Robert Swift isn’t immune to age, and as a result, his face is acquainted with wrinkles here and there. He had been interviewed for Men’s Health six months ago and they asked him about Botox.
“I’m a man,” he had said. “And when it comes to life, I’ll be a man about it.”
Four Sides of a Triangle: An Austen & Cufflinks Novel (The Austen & Cufflinks Series Book 1) Page 9
