Choosing Happy (Madison Square #2)

by Samatha Harris

  Bryan got to his feet and headed over to the bar to pour himself a large glass of scotch and gulped it down. He kept his back to me as he set the glass down on the bar.

  “Did he tell you about his mother?” he asked. He kept his back to me as he poured another drink.

  “He told me about the accident.”

  Bryan turned and pushed his hand into the pocket of his gray slacks. “She was everything to me,” he said with a smile. “Nothing about my life was good until I met her. She saved me. She showed me what it meant to be loved. I was angry, selfish, and determined to better myself. I wanted nothing more than to get as far away from my old man as I possibly could. Diane put me at ease. She was the only peace in my life, and I loved her more than anything in this world. We got married, and things were great. For the first time in my life, I was happy.” He sighed and took his seat on the couch. He was quiet, lost in the memories of his late wife. I stayed still, my hands folded in my lap as I waited for him to continue.

  “I never really wanted kids. My old man was a son of a bitch and a drunk. I didn’t want to risk ending up like him, but Diane was different. She wanted a family, and I would’ve done anything to make her happy. When Sean and Emily were born, I made myself a promise. I would ensure that they lived a good life, that they were successful. I wanted them to be smart and driven. Be tough and able to stand up for themselves when the world turned against them. Diane was the nurturer. She was kind and loving in ways that I never thought I was capable. I convinced myself that she loved them enough for both of us. I thought my job was to prepare them, to challenge them to better themselves. By the time I realized how wrong I was, it was too late. When Diane…” His voice cracked with emotion as he said her name. “After the accident, I broke. I blamed myself, I blamed the other driver, and worst of all I blamed Sean. I just kept thinking if he hadn’t gotten in trouble, we wouldn’t have been on the road that night and Diane would still be here.”

  I wiped a tear from my eye, and looked away. I could feel the regret and anguish he felt, the pain that had been a constant part of his life for years.

  “I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him. Sean was still in the hospital. He needed me and I just turned my back on him. I was bitter and angry and irrational. I started drinking and couldn’t stop. Every day I chased the numbness to the bottom of the bottle, again and again until I looked in the mirror and realized what I’d become, my worst nightmare, my father.”

  My heart broke for him. Tears fell freely down my cheeks as he went on.

  “I got back on my feet and got the help that I needed, but by then it was too late. Sean and Emily were happy and thriving living with their grandmother. I thought it would be better for both of them if I just stayed away. I kept tabs on them over the years, but I kept my distance. Sean grew into a wonderful man. He was happy, and he loved in a way I never could. I saw how he protected Emily, how he sacrificed for her. I felt intense pride at the man he’d become and at the same time, I knew that he became that man not because of me, but in spite of me.”

  “Did you ever tell him?” I asked.

  Bryan gave me a sad smile and shook his head. “No,” he said. “His life is full. I’m the bastard who ruined his childhood and abandoned him. I wasn’t going to disrupt his life for my own selfish gain, but when he came to me to ask for help with Emily’s tuition, I gave him a condition that allowed me to get to spend some time with him. I was stupid enough to believe that if he got to know me now, maybe things between us would heal themselves and we could move forward, but I underestimated his pain.”

  I nodded. “He hides it well.”

  Bryan looked up at me, a small smile on his lips. “That he does.”

  “So, why tell me all of this?” I asked. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”

  He took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. “True, but I don’t want you to make the same mistakes with him that I did.”

  My eyebrows pulled down, and I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, don’t wait until it’s too late to tell him how you feel.”

  “But I…”

  “Madison, you’re in love with him. I saw the pain in your eyes when he left, and I see it there now. You love him and he loves you. Don’t let fear keep you from making the right choice.”

  Tears poured down my cheeks and I looked up at the ceiling, willing them to stop. I took a deep breath and laughed. “Ugh,” I said. “This is a great way to start the weekend. I need to get a grip before Eric gets here.”

  Bryan laughed and bit his lip. “About that,” he said. “Seems I have a confession to make. Eric isn’t coming.”

  I frowned and wiped at my face. “What?”

  Bryan gave me a sheepish grin. “I let it slip the other day that I was interested in getting to know you romantically, and he came up with this whole beach weekend thing as a chance for the two of us to be alone.”

  My jaw dropped. That sleazy son of a bitch.

  “I was going to tell you last night, then my flight was delayed and then all this. I’m sorry.”

  His regret was sincere and my anger lessened. Eric was such a sleaze bag.

  “I guess we can call it even then.”

  Bryan laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “So, what happens now?” I asked.

  Bryan rested his hands on his knees. “Well, we’ll have some breakfast because I’m starving. Then I’ll go upstairs, take a shower, and head back into the city.”

  “Right, me too. I’ll just…” I said.

  “No,” he interrupted. “Stay. I invited you. There’s no reason you can’t stay and enjoy the rest of the weekend. Besides, it will give you and Sean a chance to talk.”

  I gave him a small smile. “Thank you, Bryan.”

  He smiled and headed into the kitchen.

  We had a nice breakfast on the back deck. We discussed some ideas for the development project and gossiped about Eric. I felt a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It was surprising how easily we fell back into a working relationship after spilling our guts to each other.

  Bryan headed up stairs to shower and change before heading back to the city. I cleaned up the kitchen and put away the leftover food in the fridge.

  I put the last dish in the dishwasher and turned it on just as Bryan came around the corner, his hair damp from the shower and an overnight bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Well, I’m off,” he said. He took a card from his wallet and set it on the kitchen counter. “Here is the number for my car service. They’re available to you whenever you need them.”

  I nodded. We stood in silence for a moment before he smiled and held out his hand. “A pleasure, as always, Ms. Buchanan. I look forward to seeing you again.”

  I laughed and shook his hand. “Same to you, Mr. Townsend.”

  He smiled and headed for the door. “Bryan,” I said. He stopped and turned to face me. “You should talk to him. You owe it to each other.”

  Bryan gave me a sad smile and nodded before he headed out the door.

  ***

  With Bryan gone, the house was quiet, too quiet. Sean hadn’t come back, and I still had no idea what I was going to do or say to him when he did.

  I was going crazy just sitting in the house, so I decided to go for a walk on the beach, clear my head. The sand was cool and rough against my bare feet, and I pulled my sweater tight around me to fight off the wind.

  Everything that had happened over the past few weeks ran through my head. The divorce, Sean, Michael, Bryan, my mother, all of it. All the chaos and the drama that had become a part of my everyday life played on a constant loop. So much for being boring. I would kill for just a little bit of boring in my life right now.

  Through all the noise in my head, Bryan’s words were what screamed the loudest. You’re in love with him. Don’t let fear keep you from making the right choice.

  Do I love him? The thought hit me hard. I’d never really asked myself
how I felt about Sean. I’d spent so much time fighting against it or discounting the thought as ridiculous that I never stopped to really consider it.

  That heart-stopping smile of his flooded my head, and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. My chest warmed just from the thought of that smile, and all the chaos and noise in my head cleared away. None of it mattered. Nothing in my life was more important than Sean. All there was left to do was tell him.

  I made my way back to the house and stopped when I saw his car in the driveway. I smiled and jogged up the steps. I typed the code in the keypad and headed down the hall, stopping dead in my tracks when I rounded the corner to the kitchen.

  A tall blonde stood there, leaning against the counter. She sipped a glass of wine while she examined her finger nails. She was dressed to kill in a tight black mini dress and sky high strappy sandals. She was probably about twenty-six. Her long hair fell in loose waves down her back and her eye make-up was smoky and heavily applied, giving her a sexy, sinister look. She was a sharp contrast to my skinny jeans, oversized sweater, and no make-up.

  I cleared my throat, and her head snapped up. A smile spread across her face, and she pushed off the counter. “Hi,” she said, offering me her hand. “You must be Madison. I’m Chris. Seany’s told me so much about you.”

  I stared at her hand in shock. Seany?

  I shook my head and then her hand, finally finding my voice. “Nice to meet you. You’re a friend of Sean’s?”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “He’s the greatest. We have big plans tonight.”

  Big plans, huh? I guess he wasn’t that heartbroken. Seemed he’d moved on pretty quickly.

  I heard footsteps on the stairs and Sean appeared, stopping when he saw me. Quickly he turned his attention to the leggy blonde and a smile lit his face. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said. He wrapped his arm around her waist, dipping her back and planting a kiss on her cheek.

  “Seany,” she squealed and slapped at his chest. “You’re awful.” Sean set her back on her feet, and she turned toward me. “Isn’t he bad?” she asked.

  “The worst.” I forced a smile, hoping that no one had caught on to my bitchy tone. It seemed to go right over Barbie’s head, but Sean turned toward me, the corner of his lips twitching in a wicked smile. The bastard was enjoying this.

  “You ready?” he asked, his hand coming to rest on her hip.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be. I’m a little nervous,” she said as she bit her lip.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “I’ll be right there with you all night.” His eyes met mine over her shoulder, and he winked. The fucker winked at me. He was unbelievable, bringing that girl to rub in my face.

  I felt incredibly stupid and beyond pissed, not to mention completely heartbroken.

  The happy couple smiled at each other and Sean slung his arm around her shoulders and led her toward the door.

  “Don’t wait up,” she called over her shoulder, and I fumed, wanting nothing more than to snatch every last perfect blonde hair from her head.

  Once they were gone, I grabbed a bottle of wine from the pantry, bypassing the glasses all together, and headed upstairs, dropping heavily into the downy softness of the bed as the angry tears began to fall.

  I reached for my phone on the night stand and scrolled through the contacts. I tapped Margot’s name and hit call. The crying intensified as the phone rang, and rang, and rang.

  “Hello.”

  When I heard her voice, I lost it. A sob ripped from my throat and tears filled my eyes until the room disappeared into a blurry mess of colors.

  “Madison?” Concern laced her voice.

  “I screwed up,” I choked. “It’s all my fault.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I love him,” I said. Relief flooded through me at finally saying the words.

  Margot sighed. “I know, honey. I know.”

  Chapter 26

  Sean

  I’d gotten in late. Dad and Madison were already asleep, hopefully in separate rooms. The gallery was a hit. Chris was beaming all night. She smiled for the pictures with the press and some big name art critics who’d shown up in droves to see her, not the art. They all had come for Chris.

  I’d spent the evening getting to know the bartender while I tried not to imagine Madison back at the house with my father, no doubt having some romantic dinner on the deck, drinking wine and listening to the ocean. Fuck. I shook my head to clear the image that just fueled my anger and bitterness.

  The next morning, I woke up and stared at the ceiling for a while, trying to put off the inevitable. My plan was to sneak downstairs, grab some coffee, then grab my stuff and hit the road without having to speak to either of them. The plan was childish, sure, but I couldn’t take seeing them together, having breakfast, talking, laughing. There was no way I could handle that. No fucking way.

  I headed down the stairs. The house was thankfully silent. I headed toward the kitchen just as Madison turned on the coffee maker. She stared down at the machine, lost in her thoughts. She looked tired and sad. Her soft pink skin was pale, and a deep purple color had settled beneath her swollen eyes.

  I resisted the urge to hold her, to comfort her, and instead I headed to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of OJ, taking a swig from the carton and putting it back on the shelf.

  “He still asleep?” I asked as I reached around her for a coffee mug.

  “He left,” she said.

  I nodded. “Wow, bailed on you already. That’s a record, even for him.”

  She stared down at the machine, watching the coffee dribble down into the pot.

  I leaned against the counter and folded my arms across my chest. He left. I can’t believe the fucker just left her there.

  I shook my head. “At least he’s consistent.”

  “What?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Leaving is what he does best. It’s something you two have in common.” I could hear how petty and childish I sounded, but I just couldn’t turn it off.

  She turned toward me, her eyes narrow and angry. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She paused, her shoulders slumped in defeat, then turned back to the coffee and grabbed a hold of the pot before it finished brewing. “This is what I was trying to avoid. It’s childish bullshit like this that just proves it never would have worked between us.”

  She poured the coffee into her cup, and I stepped up close behind her. “That’s where you’re wrong,” I whispered, my lips brushing against the soft skin of her ear. “We didn’t work because you were too scared to admit that what you felt for me was real.”

  She turned to face me, and I stood my ground. We were close, our eyes locked as we breathed the same electrically charged air.

  I watched her, a dangerous mix of anger, hurt, and desire coursing its way through my body. I stepped forward and rested my hands on the counter behind her, boxing her in.

  “Admit it,” I said.

  She looked up at me, her blue eyes cold and hard. “Admit what?”

  “That you felt something for me. That it wasn’t just a fling.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can feel it. I know that what I feel for you isn’t one sided. I need to hear you say it.”

  She swallowed. Angry tears pooled in her eyes. The reaction caught me off guard. She looked hurt.

  My muscles tensed, but I didn’t move. I waited.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said.

  “It does.”

  “You’ve moved on,” she said.

  “Jealous?” My lips twitched. I liked that she was jealous. It gave me hope.

  Madison scoffed, pushed hard on my chest, and stepped away from me. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she snapped. “I don’t care who you sleep with. It’s none of my business.”

  She pulled open the fridge to hide her face behind the door. I heard a muffled sob, and my heart broke all over again. Shame settled deep in my chest. I w
as hurt, but so was she, and I’d done nothing but make her feel small.

  I sighed, dropped my head, and leaned back against the counter in defeat. “I didn’t sleep with her,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  I gripped the edge of the counter, furious that I’d let my anger get this far. “I said, I didn’t sleep with her.” I looked up to meet her eyes. “I couldn’t do that to you.”

  Relief spread across her beautiful face. I sighed and clung to that last shred of hope that I was right, that she felt something for me, no matter how small.

  Her face fell and she cleared her throat, going back to fixing her coffee. “Like I said, it’s none of my business.”

  I could feel her slipping away again. “She’s gay,” I said. Madison stopped cold, frozen, her eyes focused on the spoon in her hand. “We’ve been friends for years. She just opened a gallery in town and asked me to come for support. Nothing happened.”

  She slowly set the spoon down on the counter and stared down at the marble, letting everything sink in.

  “I may have played up the flirtation a bit to get a reaction out of you. I was hurt and seeing you with someone else, especially seeing you with him…” I ran a hand down my face. I felt like a complete asshole. “I’m sorry.”

  She looked up. Her eyes were bright with tears as she watched me, regret and pain written all over her face.

  “Just the thought of you with him. His hands on you…fuck, seeing you together was enough to send me over the edge.”

  “Nothing happened.”

  “I know, but he invited you here for the weekend and then I end up here at the same time. It’s fucking torture knowing he…” I shook my head, trying to clear the image of them together, of his hands on her face, on her skin.

  “I told him,” she said. “That’s why he left.”

  My head snapped up. “You told him?”

  She nodded.

  I pushed off the counter. “What did you tell him?”