by Portia Moore
I blink, momentarily caught off guard, but I’m determined to keep my cool around her and not let her throw me off. “Even if it did, you don’t need to worry. It won’t affect how well we work together. We’re all professionals, I promise you that.”
Jade grins and takes a sip of her martini. I can’t help but notice the way her red lips look pursed around the edge of the glass, and I shake my head quickly, glancing away. I said I would stay professional, and I meant it.
“So what makes the son of Jackson Scully decide to take up a service job and become the bartender to the stars?” she asks, smiling as she sets the glass back down. She arches her back slightly as she crosses her legs, her breasts shifting under the thin silk of the top, and I can tell that it’s all deliberate. She’s definitely coming on to me, but I don’t have to respond, I remind myself. But her question catches me off guard, and I blink at her, wondering how she knows who my father is.
She laughs. It’s a bright, musical sound. “I’m good at my job for a reason,” she says, winking at me. “I didn’t just hire you based off of your Instagram picture, although that certainly didn’t hurt,” she says teasingly. “It might have helped just a little.”
Jackson is someone I don’t want to talk about. “Now why would I want to talk about my father?” I say charmingly, leaning forward a little and smiling back at her. If this is the game she wants to play, I’m equally as good at it. I’m good at my job for a reason, too.
“Well then, let’s talk about your ex,” she says, laughing a little. “That’s always a juicy topic. What happened there? Casey seemed very surprised that the two of you split up.” Her eyes twinkle mischievously, and I know she’s digging for information, trying to figure out how single I really am.
I take a sip of my drink, trying to stall, but I’m quiet for a moment too long because she realizes that I’m reluctant to give up any information. “Come on,” she says, leaning forward. “I’m your client, aren’t I? You have to keep me happy.”
“I thought Blaire was my client,” I tell her, grinning with the charm that I know how to use so well. One good thing that I inherited from Jackson, I think grimly.
“Well, I’m the go-between for Blaire, so right now, that makes me the client,” she fires back, but she’s smiling, and I can tell I haven’t upset her. She orders another round of drinks as I finish my second, and I can tell the bartender is making them strong, because I’m already a little tipsy.
I’ve been guarded, but as three drinks turn into four, it’s hard not to let my walls come down a little. It feels like forever since I’ve flirted with a beautiful woman, since I’ve felt charming and desirable and wanted. Jade is making no secret of the fact that she wants me, and it’s enticing. It doesn’t hurt that she’s gorgeous and that she looks nothing like Madison. She’s Madison’s polar opposite in every way, tall and slender where Madison is curvy, light chestnut hair instead of dark brown, twinkling green eyes instead of bright blue. Madison is sweet, quirky, independent, rebellious sometimes—Jade is poised and elegant. And the fact that seeing her doesn’t immediately remind me of Madison is intoxicating in and of itself because right now, I want nothing more than to forget about Madison.
The bar has a live band on Friday nights, and I’ve been so busy talking to Jade and evading her more nosy questions that I didn’t even notice them setting up. But when the music starts, Jade grabs my hand, clearly a little tipsy as well, and grins at me. “Come on, let’s dance!” she says. “I love this kind of music.”
I almost argue, but it’s clear by now that Jade is going to convince me anyway. And besides, it might be fun to dance. I haven’t let loose in a while. Even my night out with Harland was a downer since the conversation turned to my exes.
But Jade seems to have forgotten about her questions about my ex and instead is focused on me, leading me out onto the space reserved for the dance floor. There’s a handful of other couples out there as well, and as the music starts up, Jade moves close to me without hesitation, her body moving against mine as her arms wrap around my neck.
Oh, fuck, I think as she sways against me, her head tilted back so that she’s looking into my eyes as we start to dance. Her waist is soft and slender under my hands, her hips grinding slowly against mine, and it’s clear from the look in her eyes that she’s deliberately trying to turn me on. It’s been two weeks since I’ve gotten laid, and I’ve never been a guy to want to go more than a couple of days, so it’s not hard—or rather, it’s rapidly getting there as Jade turns in my arms, her back against me as the song changes to something slower, with a sultry rhythm that Jade instantly matches.
I can feel my inhibitions going out the window as we dance, the alcohol flowing freely through my blood as Jade turns in my arms again, and a sweet smile spreads over her full red lips. Her hand slides into my hair as she leans up on her tiptoes, still swaying against me as she whispers in my ear, “So, how far would you be willing to go to make your client happy?”
I know exactly what she’s offering, and I can see it in her eyes as she pulls back slightly, her body against mine making it explicitly clear. And why not? I think to myself. I can see exactly how it would go, us leaving the bar, climbing into an Uber, heading back to my place or hers—yes, hers since Alyssa is still at mine. Tumbling into her bed, clothes flying off—just the thought of it makes my dick twitch, my jeans suddenly feeling far too tight as I get harder by the second imagining it. She’s beautiful, sexy, and clearly wants me—what’s the harm? I’m single, and she’s fun, and sex with someone new and different is exactly what I need to release my frustrations. I want to put it all behind me, to erase the image of Jackson and Madison that hasn’t left my head since the reception, and maybe Jade is what I need in order to do that.
I’m just about to tell her yes, to bend down and whisper in her ear that I’ll call an Uber, already thinking about what her lips will feel like against mine, when I feel a tap on my shoulder and whirl around.
It’s fucking Parker, standing there with her fiancé—I can’t remember his name—and looking at Jade and me with an expression that says she knows precisely what’s going on.
“Alex? Who’s this?” Jade asks, and I know she probably thinks it might be my ex. I need to clear that up fast, and I can feel the awkwardness in the room intensifying as I scramble to make it seem less damning than it is.
“This is Parker,” I say quickly. “And her fiancé. Parker is one of my clients. We’re doing the bar for her wedding.”
Jade seems to visibly relax, but Parker still looks more than a little annoyed. I have a sinking feeling this will get back to Madison, and I try to remind myself that I shouldn’t give a fuck, but I do.
There’s a frosty moment where no one seems to know what to say, and then Parker’s fiancé quickly cuts in. “It’s nice to see you, Alex, but we should probably go, our friends are waiting for us over there.” He tugs at Parker’s hand, who follows him, but she casts one more look over her shoulder at me, and I know I’m not off the hook.
“I should probably get going too,” Jade says, and I feel embarrassed and guilty as I look down at her, thinking about what had been about to happen between us. “I’m sorry for the interruption…” I start to say, but she waves a hand. The mood is gone, but she doesn’t look pissed, so that’s something at least.
“It’s alright,” she says, and meets my eyes, her gaze flicking momentarily down to my lips, and I see a hint of disappointment there. “We’ll meet up some other time,” she says softly, that hint of flirtation still there. I’m relieved that, at the very least, I haven’t fucked up my job.
“I’d love to meet up again,” I tell her, unsure of what I mean by it exactly, but I do want her to be happy, both because she’s my client, and because I also like her, even if the situation is weird. She’s a woman who knows what she wants and goes after it, and I can respect that.
You don’t need more complications, I remind myself as I watch her leave and pay my tab.
I should probably try to remember that.
Chapter 8
Present day
Madison
I’m surprised by how good I feel when I step off the plane at O’Hare airport. It’s invigorating to be back home, away from all the stress and noise and problems I’ve been dealing with for the past couple of weeks, and to be looking forward to seeing my family. The only letdown is that when I come out of the terminal, I see Greg waiting for me, not Melissa, but I try to hide my annoyance as he walks forward and gives me a quick hug. I like him better since I’ve gotten to know him when I stayed with Melissa last, and I think he’s good for her. Just not my choice of ice cream.
“Hey, Madison,” he says, and I return the hug.
“Thanks for picking me up,” I tell him.
“Of course. Melissa wanted to but she got caught up with shopping for the dinner tonight and was running late.”
I glance at him as I toss my bag in the backseat. “Dinner? Mel didn’t say anything about a dinner.”
“It was a last-minute sort of thing,” Greg says, and I wince. I calculate what the likelihood would be of me just being able to go to my mom’s house—I wanted to stay with Melissa first and hold off on seeing my mom until I’d had a chance to collect myself and talk with Mel, but I’m not in any sort of mood for a dinner party.
Greg glances over at me, and I can tell he’s picking up on my apprehension. “Don’t worry,” he says cheerily. “It’s not a lot of people, just a few friends and colleagues from work. No big deal. It’s going to be fun!”
I doubt that.
When I walk in, I start to rethink my opinion about the dinner party, just a little. The whole apartment smells phenomenal, and I’m reminded what a good cook Mel is. Maybe it’ll be worth it, if only because she’s cooked a fancier dinner than normal, and I’m starving. As soon as I walk into the kitchen, sniffing hungrily, Melissa turns away from the stove, and her eyes light up when she sees me. She walks straight over to me, giving me a bigger hug than I think she ever has, and I return it, suddenly more grateful than ever to be home with my family. I needed this.
Melissa pulls back, her eyes and hand going to my still-flat stomach, and she shakes her head as her eyes go round. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant!” she exclaims, quietly enough that Greg doesn’t hear. “I can’t believe my little niece or nephew is in there,” she coos at my stomach, and I can’t help myself as tears well up. I burst into sobs, leaning back into Melissa’s embrace as she hugs me again, shocked.
“Come on,” she says, urging me over to the sofa and sitting me down, cuddling me against her. “Hey, Madison, it’s alright.” I can tell she’s not used to seeing this side of me, and I’m not used to Melissa being so affectionate either. But I missed her, and I can tell she missed me—we didn’t leave things on the best of terms before, and I’m reminded more than ever how much I need my family and friends now.
“I screwed everything up,” I choke out, the tears coming harder and faster. “I can’t believe how much I messed up, Mel.”
“Tell me what happened,” she says gently, without judgment for once, and I do. I tell her everything, from my plan with Jackson to tell Alex after we came back from the Hamptons to what Holly did at the wedding, the awful fight at the apartment and how Alex freaked out, me going to Parker’s, and then the awkward meeting with Jackson and Kate and what Kate wants me to do. “I know he’s so angry at me,” I finish, wiping at my face. “He’s furious and I don’t blame him. But I can’t believe it’s already been two weeks without having him in my life. I miss him so much…I can’t believe that it’s going to be forever. He must miss me too. Things were so good before…before…”
Melissa sits up a little straighter, looking down at me as she hands me a box of tissues. “You need to go to Alex and tell him yourself,” she says firmly. “If it doesn’t work out, and he won’t forgive you and doesn’t care, then you can come back here to Chicago, and Mom and I will help you, you know that. You can figure out some kind of visitation for the baby from afar. But there’s no point in you hanging around in Manhattan, pregnant and away from your family, waiting on the hook to see what Alex and his family do.” She looks at me pointedly, and I see a little of the sister I know so well coming back out. “You need to woman up,” she says, not unkindly, but with conviction, “and stop letting everyone else tell your story for you. This is big, Madison, really big, and it needs to come from you. Alex doesn’t need to hear this from his mother.”
I sniffle, wiping away the rest of my tears. “I think Kate might be able to convince him, though,” I say in a small voice. “She might be able to get him to give me another chance.”
Melissa lets out a small sigh, and I can tell she’s starting to get exasperated. “Don’t be naïve, Madison,” she says, a hint of irritation in her voice. “If Alex is going to forgive you, he’s going to do that with or without being pressured from his mom. And you need to stop hinging everything on this. Whether he forgives you or not, you’re going to be okay, and you need to realize that. Mom raised us to be smart, strong, self-sufficient women, and it’s going to work out. She made it without Dad, and you can make it without Alex if you have to.” She stands up then and disappears into the kitchen, coming back with a half-full wine glass of what I can tell is my favorite red.
“Here,” she says firmly. “Drink this. A glass is okay for the baby. And go take a shower and get ready. Guests will be here in about an hour—”
“Why didn’t you just have me fly out tomorrow after the party?” I interrupt her, narrowing my eyes. I haven’t forgotten how annoyed I am to have a dinner party sprung on me.
“Because you need to get used to being around people again,” Melissa says with her hands on her hips, and I’m reminded all over again of how she was when I was broken up over losing Jackson. She means well though, I remind myself, and try not to let myself be too aggravated.
I take a few sips of the wine as I grab my bag and head into the guest room, but I haven’t drank in so long that after two or three my stomach starts to turn over, so I set it down on the counter. Melissa was right about the shower. The hot water feels good, and I linger under it as long as I can, dreading the moment when I have to go out and socialize with people I don’t know. I make sure to look nice though, not wanting the lecture from Melissa or to embarrass her, and put on a nice pair of jeans and a patterned top that Parker gave me from her closet, blow-drying my hair and putting it up into a high ponytail. I put on a little makeup, just enough to hide that I was crying and make me look a little more alive, and take a deep breath as I head back out into the rest of the apartment.
Melissa has put the radio on, and the apartment is already filling up with guests that are mingling, enjoying the drinks and good music, and smells wafting out from the kitchen. I try to make myself scarce in a corner, not wanting to have to introduce myself or make small talk with people I don’t know. Melissa has put appetizers out on the breakfast bar and they’re being snatched up quickly, but I’m still unsure of what my stomach can tolerate. I don’t want to be sick during her party, so I avoid the food no matter how good it smells. Greg is occupied with two of his colleagues, and Mel is busy cooking. I’m strongly considering just biting the bullet and slinking off to my mom’s for the night when the door opens, but to my surprise, Ryan walks in.
Fuck, I think, shrinking back even further in the hopes that he won’t see me. The last thing I want to do is to talk to another of my exes, but he spies me and starts to walk over in my direction. I can’t escape without it being obvious that I’m avoiding him. I plaster a smile on my face and take a nervous sip of my otherwise untouched wine as he approaches. He looks great, better than ever. He was always a good-looking guy. That definitely wasn’t one of the reasons I left him.
“Hey, Madison,” he says casually, and I keep the forced smile on my face. “How’s New York? How are things?”
“They’re great,” I lie, not wanting him to know how m
uch of a shambles my life is really in right now. “I’m doing really well. It’s nice of you to ask.”
He smiles. “That’s good. I’m happy for you!” he exclaims, clearly taking my words at face value. He never was great at reading my emotions, I think, and it’s nice to feel as if there’s at least one ex that I made the right choices with. He hasn’t gotten any better at picking up on how I’m feeling since then.
“How’s your fiancée?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation away from myself.
“She’s really good, great in fact,” he says sincerely. “And I owe it to you, Madison. You had the strength to end what wasn’t the best relationship for either of us. And it seems like we’re both better off and happier now.”
“Definitely,” I say as brightly as I can manage, and I am happy for him. He wasn’t a bad guy by any stretch, and he deserves someone good for him. We just weren’t great together. But as he disappears back into the mingling people in the living room, I can’t help but feel sorry for myself. Here my ex is doing great, happily engaged and on top of the world, and I’m all but homeless, recently broken up with, and pregnant. Not the happy ending that I pretended to have.
I suddenly can’t face the idea of dinner and more small talk and pretending that I’m okay. I set my wine glass down and disappear into the guest room, curling up on the bed and closing my eyes, trying not to cry as I think of Alex. It would be different if he were here, he’d be charming everyone and making friends, helping Greg with drinks and being part of my family like he was supposed to be.
Nothing turned out the way it was supposed to, I think as I drift off to sleep, tears leaking out and dripping down my cheeks.
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