by Claire Adams
“Nothing wrong with starting them young,” I said, and started on breakfast.
“Think you could watch Belle for an hour tonight?” Lacey asked. “There’s a book club that I’ve been wanting to join, and I thought they met on the weekends, but apparently there’s a few Mondays thrown into the mix.”
“I actually have work tonight,” I said and started frying the potatoes.
Lacey gasped. “You got a new job?”
“At Maddox’s,” I said. “He just called and said Abby was feeling better, so we’re continuing our lessons tonight.” Lacey shook her head. “What?”
“You’ve been very hesitant to even bring him up this past week,” she said. “I thought he fired you or something.”
“Well, not exactly.” I whipped up some scrambled eggs and threw a cookie pan full of brown sugar-dusted bacon in the oven.
“What does that mean?” Lacey asked. “So nothing happened?”
“Not exactly,” I repeated. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“Everly,” Lacey said. “You can tell me.”
I glanced at Belle. She was sitting on the couch watching the TV, and seemingly not interested in listening to our conversation. Lacey noticed what I was staring at and frowned.
“What happened?”
“We had sex,” I said quickly and focused on the potatoes. Lacey asked me to repeat myself, and I did, but in a slightly quieter voice.
“Everly Winters, you did not!” Lacey’s voice was loud enough for my neighbors to hear.
“Is it that surprising?” I argued.
“Well, I mean, he’s your boss.” She widened her eyes and stared through me. “What happened though? Was his kid home?” She clutched her chest as if the thought was appalling.
“Of course she wasn’t home.” I gave her a nudge. “She stays at a friend’s house, who’s his neighbor. And I don’t know. We had just finished dinner, and I wanted to see the rest of his house, there’s literally no evidence of a kid there, and one thing led to the other and then we were in his bedroom.”
“On his bed,” Lacey added, and I rolled my eyes.
“Yes, on his bed,” I said. “But afterward his neighbor stopped by with Abby. She was sick, looked like she was about to puke, and I ran off.” Like my head was on fire. I could have kicked myself.
“You ran off? After sleeping with him?” Lacey asked, and I nodded, feeling bad enough without her repeating it. “And he didn’t fire you?”
“He’s not like that,” I said. “I don’t think he was upset. Obviously, he was more concerned with Abby, and he stopped our nightly lessons because she was sick.”
“Have you guys talked about what you did yet?” she asked, and I shook my head. “Why not?”
“He’s been busy,” I said. “And I’m not sure how to bring that up. Oh, hi Maddox, how’s Abby? Oh, and by the way, how was the sex we just had before your daughter came over puking? Yeah?”
“You and I both know it doesn’t have to be that awkward,” Lacey said. “But Everly, how could you? You slept with your boss. A boss from a job that’s not in the least bit stable. You do realize what this looks like, right? What if he expects this to be a nightly thing?”
“He’s not like that,” I argued. “And even if it was a nightly thing, I’m still doing my job. What would it matter?”
“It matters because it’s widely inappropriate.” She had lowered her voice to a whisper as if saying the words aloud would be blasphemous. “And irresponsible. Everly, this is probably the most irresponsible thing you could have done. Sleeping with your boss, in his home, while his daughter is literally next door? You need to shut this down and find another job.”
I hadn’t told her about the offer to go back to my previous job yet, and I decided to keep it from her.
I released a breath of frustration. “I don’t need you to lecture me.” She sounded as if our mother was in the room and talking to me.
She scoffed, which only solidified my thoughts. “I’m just concerned.” She turned and started prepping the table for our breakfast, taking out the dinnerware and forks. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like Belle heard any of our conversation, and throughout breakfast I asked her everything she knew about dinosaurs. Which was more than I’d ever learned at her age.
Lacey continued to frown and shake her head, even as we said goodbye and I left for the grocery store to shop for the week. I wasn’t upset with her though, she was just looking out for me, and I couldn’t exactly disagree with how complicated the whole situation was.
I sent her a quick text thanking her for listening and for her advice, but that I would ultimately decide what to do about Maddox myself. I leaned against the headrest and contemplated my own words. What was I going to do about Maddox?
I spent hours shopping at several different markets, looking for the highest quality ingredients. One of the markets was on the pier, and I spent nearly an hour enjoying the ocean breeze and imagining the menu of my own restaurant. One of the newer spots on the pier had a line of people waiting just to get their name on the list, and I made a mental note to check it out one day. It had the perfect location, but I always wondered if All You Can Eat’s menu was as perfect as it claimed to be. It was almost comical the name that was chosen for the four-star restaurant. Almost a joke of sorts, until you walked in and the atmosphere swept you away.
I arrived to Maddox’s on time, and he greeted me with a warm smile.
“Is Abby here?” I glanced around him into the house to see signs of his 3-year-old.
He shook his head, taking a few of the bags from my arms as he stepped aside to let me pass. “She’s at Nick’s.” I nodded, remembering the friend who had stood in the doorway with a sick little girl in his arms and a blush as he realized how unkempt Maddox and I had been. The memory made me blush, and I followed Maddox to the kitchen, expecting an uncomfortable and awkward silence.
I led the way to the kitchen, where I placed the reusable bags on the counter and unpacked them.
Maddox opened the fridge to help. “What’s on the menu for tonight?”
“Sea bass.” I held up the paper-wrapped package. “There was a fresh cart on the pier. And I was thinking of a pickled cucumber relish and stringed potatoes on the side.”
He narrowed his eyes and stared up to the ceiling as he seemed to considered it, as if he were the chef and me the student. “That sounds wonderful. I’ve eaten sea bass plenty of times, so you’ll have to try hard to impress me.” A slow, sly smile spread across his lips, and I found myself relaxing at the sight of it. At least he hadn’t lost his ability to tease me.
I waved a finger at him. “You’ll have to impress me by actually cooking this time.” I gave him a sideways glance and turned back to the counter. “Don’t think you can get away with watching over my shoulder and the occasional comment about the smell.”
“I suppose I am paying you to teach me.” He walked to the counter beside me, and we began prepping. He made conversation easily, and I was surprised at how normal and comfortable I felt around him. He was good at making things less awkward, but throughout cooking dinner, I couldn’t help but give his muscles a second glance. His fingers as they stirred a pot of soup, his grin as he bit his bottom lip, his forearms as they washed potatoes and spiralized them. Every small movement made me remember our night together, how strong he was, how good I had felt under his touch. A soft heat spread through my arms and into my core as if it drained directly from my brain to its intended target.
I shook my head. I needed to stop thinking those things.
Instead, I glanced toward him again, noticing his shirt was tight, and his pants had just enough slack to create a slight outline where his thick bulge had been. I groaned, confident that at this rate I was going to burn something. Hopefully not myself.
“Ginger sea bass with sautéed scallops, pickled cucumber relish, and stringed potatoes,” Maddox pointed to each item, naming it as we plated the meal. “Not bad.” He
seemed pleased as he nodded his head and regarded our accomplishment.
“Not bad? You just made a 200 dollar meal.” I gave him a soft nudge with my elbow, and then we took our plates to the dining room, where he insisted on pulling out my chair. Maddox dug into his first, and I smirked as his eyes lit up.
“This is fantastic, Everly.” He closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped as he slowly chewed. “Really, I don’t think I’ve ever had fish taste so good.”
“I think I already mentioned that I’m sort of a pro when it comes to seafood,” I said. “It’s probably the only thing I’ve ever been confident about.”
“That took a bit of a sad turn.” He popped another bite into his mouth and swallowed. “But I can assure you that you’re a pro at just about everything we’ve cooked. Although your desserts could probably use some work.”
“We’ve only made like, two desserts,” I argued, and he chuckled. “Oh, you’re joking.”
He released a soft chuckle. “Of course I am. You’re a naturally talented chef.” His compliment made my shoulders square, but I tucked my chin to not seem as proud as he made me feel.
“I don’t think it was natural, but thank you.” I had never given a sincerer thank you in my life, but that’s what he did to me. He made me feel wonderful. In more ways than one.
Just as we were finishing our meal, Maddox retreated into a room tucked into the corner of the dining room. I tried peering inside, but it was long and dark, and the breeze that brushed gently across my arms which had come from that direction was much cooler. He soon returned with a bottle of wine and poured each of us a glass.
“That’s where you hide them.” I swirled the wine in my glass and noted the rich color. “I was beginning to think there was some sort of secret basement.”
“Nothing secret about this,” he said and took a sip. I hesitated. Drinking with your boss during dinner wasn’t exactly a responsible thing to do, or appropriate. It was a thought that my sister had planted in my mind, and I wanted to give her a swift kick in the behind for making me second-guess everything. Maddox seemed to recognize my hesitation. “I’m sorry about before.”
“For what?” I asked, and then realized he meant our night together. “Oh, it’s okay.” I’d never had anyone apologize to me about having sex with me. I wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not, but one look at Maddox put me at ease. He was being sincere; his soft gray eyes were a comfort.
“No, it’s not. I don’t want you to think that I expect anything more than a cooking lesson from you. I’ve been worried all week that you might have taken it the wrong way.” He pulled his glass to his lips and took a hearty swig, and his eyes stayed locked on mine the entire time.
“I don’t think that at all.” I wouldn’t admit that the thought had crossed my mind. “I never felt like anything more was expected from me. I wanted to do it.”
“Oh, thank God.” His shoulders slumped as he sighed. “That’s a relief. You have no idea how worried I’d been this week.”
“I’m sorry.” I reached over and placed my hand on his. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
“Cause trouble?” He stifled a laugh. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just usually don’t overanalyze so much, but for some reason with you, it’s all I can do.”
I blinked, startled at the confession. I hadn’t thought that he might be having the same feelings as me. The growing uncertainty about his reaction subsided at that moment.
“There’s something else I wanted to ask.” He paused a moment while I finished my glass. He grabbed the bottle and offered more, but the effects of the wine were beginning to make my head a little woozy, and I politely refused another glass.
“Yes?” My eyes widened with curiosity.
He leaned forward to close the distance between us. “Have you ever been to Vegas?” I shook my head.
“Lacey’s been with her ex, but she didn’t really have many good things to say about it.” She’d called it a den of sin and a waste of good money, but I didn’t think I needed to go into all that with him. I wasn’t sure what had happened to her while she was there, but I had an idea it was the first time she’d come to terms with her ex’s wandering eyes and grabby hands, because after that, things had changed in their relationship.
Maddox chuckled. “Vegas can be a hit or miss.” He looked as if he’d experienced the latter a few times. “Well, I have a few important meetings coming up next week, and I was hoping you’d join me.”
The offer came as a shock. He wanted me to go away with him? “In Vegas?” I leaned forward and took his wine glass in my hand. He laughed and nodded. I took a much larger than normal sip and contemplated it. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Maddox.” I placed the glass on the table and fingered the rim.
“I understand, and it’s absolutely your decision. Usually I just have either Abby or Nick with me, but Abby will be at my parents’ and Nick has an art gallery showing, so I guess I’m just being selfish and don’t really want to go alone.”
I wondered if the offer was conditional. “Do I get my own room?” My brow rose waiting for the answer.
“Of course.” He nodded and chuckled. “Anything you want.”
My sister’s voice was still loud in my head, reminding me how inappropriate and irresponsible it would be. I thought of a million reasons to say no, and yet I’m not entirely surprised as I answered.
“Okay.” I couldn’t believe I was agreeing, but there was no chance I was missing the opportunity. “I get my own room and spending money, and we eat at one of the buffets in the casinos because I’ve always heard about those, and I’ll go.”
Maddox smiled, his cheeks widening more than I’ve seen, as he nodded.
“Deal,” he said, rising from the table and taking my empty plate.
I followed him to the kitchen, and as we cleaned up dinner, he told me countless stories about his experiences in Vegas. He’d seen so many things and done so much in his life, that I felt like I had a lot of catching up to do.
I nodded, half listening and half having a mental breakdown in my mind. I was afraid he’d be able to hear the inner battle, my thoughts were screaming so loud, but he gave me a warm smile and tossed me a dishrag.
“Care to help me clean up?” He turned toward the sink and turned on the water. The idea of him washing dishes brought a smile to my face.
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything.” I stood beside him next to the built-in dishwasher, which was worth more than my rent, as he went a little heavy on the dish liquid.
Then Maddox’s arm brushed against mine as he wiped our plates clean, his warmth spreading over me like a blanket. I shuddered as a pulse of need burned deep in my core. What on earth had I agreed to?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Maddox
Everly had made amazing dinners throughout the rest of the week, and our conversation continued to grow more natural and endearing to me as the days passed. She always made sure to ask about Abby, and Abby made sure to constantly ask about Everly. The past four days had felt like a dream as we planned our Vegas trip and cooked together. Well, as she taught me how to cook. According to her, I was picking it up a lot quicker than she had expected, and last night I had mashed the potatoes without a single comment from her. I continued my ruse, and she continued to believe that I wasn’t a renowned chef. Really, all it would have taken was a single Google session and she would have found the truth, a fact that was always in the back of my mind as we spent time together. What would I do when she finally learned the truth?
I lounged in bed a little longer than usual on Thursday morning, making a mental checklist for the weekend. Abby squirmed beside me, her tiny body radiating a heat that I wouldn’t trade for the world. I hadn’t fallen asleep with her in the bed. She must have snuck in again throughout the night. She had always been a master at that, since her tiny footsteps were no more disturbing than butterfly wings.
“I had a dream, Daddy,” she said, as she w
oke. A hearty yawn stretched her mouth, and she rubbed her eyes.
“What about?” I asked.
“I don’t remember.” She shrugged her tiny shoulders and giggled. “I just remember liking it.”
“You’re still okay with me leaving this weekend, right?” I asked. She must have been tired of constantly reassuring me. “You’re okay with staying at Grandma’s and Grandpa’s?”
“Yes, Daddy. Grandpa makes me pancakes, and Grandma takes me shopping.” Her eyes widened with excitement. I chuckled; of course she was more than okay with staying with them for the weekend. “Is Everly going?”
I nodded. “Yeah, she’s helping me. You’re okay with that, right?”
Abby sighed and met my eyes before averting them with more attitude than necessary. Clearly, she was tired of all these questions.
“All right, I get it. I’ll start with breakfast. You get ready to go to Nick’s.” I moved to the side of the bed away from her warmth and found my feet.
Abby dressed herself as I made pancakes. I added a little cinnamon and brown sugar into the mix, and topped them with a blend of cream cheese and powdered sugar. I was at least going to make sure my pancakes were better than my dad’s.
“Is your painting almost done?” I asked. Nick had been giving me small updates through the week. Apparently, it was something Abby was really passionate about.
Her head went up and down as she scooped another spoonful. “Almost,” she said in between bites of pancakes. “But you can’t see it yet!” She narrowed a gaze at me that had threat written all over it.
I raised my hands to surrender. “I know.” I turned away to my own plate ready. “When can I see it?”
“When it’s done,” she said with another long, dramatic sigh. “You’re going to love it!”
“I know I will.” I turned and gave her a smile over my shoulder. “Maybe you can show it to me when I get back?”
Abby tilted her head as I joined her at the table. “Maybe,” she said.
