Not that he was perfect. Far from it. He could be stubborn, moody and tense, and he was obsessive about neatness, health, and, of course, his career.
The telephone rang, interrupting her Alex reverie.
She pushed the brochures aside and leaned over to the phone on the wicker nightstand. “Maddie’s Pleasure Palace. Hey, handsome—”
“Madison, did you finally get a love life?”
Her smile collapsed. “Felicia?”
“You sound surprised. Are you having so much fun that you don’t feel like talking to your own mother?” Felicia Saunders asked.
“What’s up? Something wrong?”
“I have exciting news,” Felicia said. “I’ve accepted Edmund’s proposal. We’re getting married in three weeks. I know it’s short notice, but you only need to take three or four days off.”
The familiar tension pounded in Maddie’s head, and she rifled through her purse lying on the bed to get the bottle of aspirin. “Sorry, I’m busy with work. Give Eddy my regards.” From Maddie’s brief interaction with the prospective groom, she rated him higher than a speed bump, even though he resembled a human Q-tip.
“Edmund’s family would like to meet you.”
“Give Eddy’s family my regards too.”
She waited for Felicia’s melancholy tone. One, two, three…
“You’re practically my only family, and I’d like you to be my witness.”
“I thought you kept a wedding party on call.” This time, Maddie was determined to stand her ground and not drop everything to tend to Felicia’s whims. It was either that or rent the Lizzie Borden biography.
“Don’t tease. I’m under a lot of stress. Rosita quit.”
Maddie stifled a loud sigh. “Okay, give me her new number. I’ll talk to her.”
“I don’t have a number. Anyway, she went back home. She said she missed her country.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “She comes from a country ruled by a dictator and she’s gone back. Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“Never mind that. I need your help with the wedding. I’ll pay for your flight—”
“It’s bad timing. You’ll have to tie the knot without me this time.”
“I’m sorry if it’s bad timing,” Felicia snapped. “The world doesn’t revolve around your schedule.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“What if I said the same to you when you get married?”
“You won’t. Marriage isn’t in my future. Look, I’m tired—”
“Madison, what do you mean? You need a man to take care of you. Have I taught you nothing?”
“You’re right. You taught me nothing. Marriage vows mean nothing. Commitment means nothing.” Including your commitment to your daughter.
She and Felicia had inhabited so many apartments Maddie had never bothered to unpack her suitcase. No wonder she was a low-maintenance traveler. She’d been doing it her whole life.
“Don’t blame me because you can’t find a man and settle down,” Felicia said.
Not trusting herself to respond, Maddie remained silent. She popped the lid off the aspirin container, grabbed a bottle of water and swallowed two pills.
“Why are you like this with me?” Felicia asked. “I’m always trying to make our relationship better. How many times have I offered to pay for breast implants?”
Maddie wasn’t a vulnerable teenager anymore, but the implied criticism hurt. Still, she wasn’t going to let her mother undermine her confidence. “Unlike some women—” meaning you, Mommy Dearest, “—I’d rather fill my brain instead of my bra.”
“Madison, are you implying I’m—”
A flake? Yes. “Congratulations on your engagement. I’ll call you.”
“When?” Felicia demanded.
“When the phone rings and it’s me.”
“Don’t be flippant,” Felicia shot back. “Okay.” She let out a loud sigh. “I deserved that. The implant remark was out of line. You know, men don’t like women who are always cracking jokes.”
“That won’t be an issue.” Maddie took a sip of water. “I’m going to join a convent.”
“There you go again. Why can’t you ever be serious?”
Oh, you want serious, Felicia? How’s this? My so-called jokes result from a lost childhood spent bolstering your fragile ego.
It was on the tip of Maddie’s tongue to say so. Instead, she restrained herself. “So what’s this month’s issue?”
“I’ve been under some pressure lately…” Felicia trailed off and paused for a few beats. “I’m not getting any younger. Edmund tells me I’m beautiful, but sometimes I don’t feel young and attractive. I was stunning at your age.”
Okay, time to pull out the self-esteem boosters. “Forty-nine is not old. Everyone thinks you’re as gorgeous as when you were twenty. You’ve heard the saying beauty is skin deep.” Maddie glanced down at her chest. “Personally, I’d go with that.”
“Right. Then how come I’ve never heard a man compliment my striking kidneys?”
Surprised, Maddie laughed. “When did you go out and get a sense of humor?”
“Where do you think you inherited yours? Not from him. So, what’s Makana Island like, anyway? Does your expense account cover room service? Did you check out their spa?”
“You know I don’t do spa stuff. Tell me about my fath—”
“When I was in Barbados last year, I had my chart done by a professional astronomer. Pamper yourself and spend a day at the spa. Seaweed wrap, hot rock massage, pedicure…”
“Felicia.” Maddie swallowed heavy-duty curses. “You started this conversation, so please continue it. I want to know more about—”
“Your father.” The word was coupled with her mother’s well-known dramatic sigh. All they needed now were a few bars of soap-opera-style background music.
Maddie grabbed the angel pillow and pressed it against her chest, bracing herself for one of Felicia’s self-pitying tirades. This time she would refuse to pacify her. It was time her mother ended all the secrecy.
“He thinks he can control me and everyone else,” Felicia said. “That arrogant SOB is going to make me out to be the baddie. And I won’t stand for it.”
Well, this was new. “Meaning what? Did he contact you? Where is he? It would save me a lot of money if you gave me the information and—”
“I’m sorry,” Felicia whispered, with a catch in her voice. “I said too much.”
Geeze, here she goes again. “Said too much? You haven’t told me anything. Can’t you at least give me his name?”
“Not…not right now. You’ll have to trust me.”
Maddie reached across the floral duvet for her wallet, lying amid her traveler’s checks and the phone numbers of Hawaii’s media-relations officers. She picked up her birth certificate and read the words “Father: Unknown”. Except he wasn’t unknown—not to her mother. Yet, once again, Felicia was refusing to give her the information. Maddie had decided to take matters into her own hands six months ago, but all she’d come up against were dead ends.
“Madison, what did you say about money? Are you okay? Do you need some—”
“I’m fine. And no, I don’t need your money.” Maddie’s insides turned to ice. “Goodbye.”
“Please. Let’s stop doing this. This thing we do. You get mad at me and hang up. I go off and pout, and we don’t talk for two weeks.” There was a pregnant pause until Felicia broke the silence. “How did our relationship get so screwed up? Sometimes we start out on the right track—”
“Yeah, but we always seem to board the wrong subway.” Maddie blew out a loud breath. “It is what it is.” God, what a pair they made. She rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s been a long flight and I’m tired. Give me a call when you get back from your honeymoon.”
Felicia c
leared her throat. “Let’s talk a bit. I still don’t understand why you work so much. If you found a dependable man, then I wouldn’t have to worry about you. Well, since you like doing whatever it is you do on these trips, I’d like to know more about it. What are you going to write about this time?”
Maddie explained with the shred of patience she had left. “My expertise is outdoor expeditions, like white-water canoeing, cycling and mountain climbing. This is my first tropical adventure. I’m excited and nervous at the same time.”
“Why are you nervous?”
Since when was her mother interested in her career? And what was up with the tremor in Felicia’s voice when she had asked about Maddie’s nervousness?
Maddie hugged her knees close to her chest. “Uncle George sounded tense before I left. I hope I can live up to his expectations.” She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she had sensed this assignment weighed heavily on his mind, as though the future of his publishing house depended on it.
“George? Ha. If you ask me, he puts too much pressure—I hope your time on the island turns out okay for you. I blame my stupid brother—oh, listen to me, I’m rambling. Guess I’m tired too.”
Maddie’s fingers tightened around the phone. “Give it to me straight. What’s going on?”
“Pre-wedding jitters.” Felicia’s tone was defensive. “And there’s your birthday coming up.”
“Are you going to remind me about the stretch marks I caused?”
“No. It’s…it’s…the memories surrounding your birth.” Felicia’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I did love your father, but the circumstances were wrong. He had so many problems.”
“What kind of problems?” Maddie was fast losing her patience. “Did he leave the toilet seat up? Did he snore? Did he forget to close the cupboard doors? What?”
“He had problems closing a lot of things, especially the brandy bottle.”
“So my father was an alcoholic?” Maybe he had to be to put up with Felicia.
“Of course not. It’s my anger talking. We messed things up.” Felicia coughed, a familiar stalling tactic. “You must be exhausted. We should say goodbye.”
“Wait, don’t hang up. I want to know more.”
“I’ll call you the minute I get back from the Riviera Mayan. That’s where we’re going on our honeymoon. Don’t worry. I’ll get this wedding underway alone. It was good talking to you like this.”
Talking like what? “Yeah, have a good trip.”
Maddie slammed the receiver in its cradle and pounded the mattress with her fists. She was no further ahead than she had been years ago.
Attempting to extract a straight answer from Felicia was like nailing jello to a tree.
With her head against the white wicker headboard, she pressed the heel of her hands over her eyes and wiped the frustrated tears.
By the time she was able to tie her own shoes, Maddie had discovered it was useless to attempt to decode anything her mother said or did.
Instead, she repeated her personal mantra. “Get over it. Move on.”
She closed her eyes and played the game she’d invented as a child for when she suffered like this. It had saved her sanity throughout her life. In her mind, she replaced Felicia’s conversation with fantasies of the exciting places she wanted to visit and write about.
A light knock on her door interrupted her musings. She flung her legs over the side of the bed and tread barefoot to answer it.
She peeked through the peephole and eyed Alex with his back to the door, scanning the hallway. She opened the door, and he swung around, flashing a smile as bright as Times Square on New Year’s Eve.
“Hey there,” he said. “Are you up for a short visit?”
“For you, always.” His presence relaxed her. She stood aside as he entered the room and closed the door.
“I called, but your line was busy,” he said.
“Why were you looking up and down the hall?”
“No reason.” He crooked his finger and lifted her chin. “I wanted to check if you were okay. Did I hurt your ribs this afternoon?” He furrowed his brows. “You’re pale. Let’s go to the clinic.”
“No bruises and you didn’t damage anything. I’m fine. And there isn’t a doctor around who can fix the aftermath of a phone call with Felicia.”
“Your mother called you here? What happened? Did her husband get barred from his frat house? Sorry, I shouldn’t talk like that about—”
“Don’t apologize. Frat Boy left her to go find his smile. Cougar Mom is getting hitched to husband number seven.” Or was it eight? She sighed. “It’ll last until he comes out of his trance or she gets bored and another Manhattan lawyer will do the billable-hour happy dance.”
He placed an arm across her shoulder and led her into the room. She resisted the urge to sag against him.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.
“I’m good. Tomorrow I’ll kick back on the beach and get some color.” Warmed by his caring she tried for a smile, but knew it didn’t reach her eyes. Felicia’s phone call had left her with a hollow sensation in the pit of her stomach.
He rubbed her shoulder. “Let’s sit and talk. What else did Felicia say?”
She took a deep breath and did what she did best in a painful situation, buried the emotion and found the humor. “I told her I was going to join a convent.”
“The vow of silence might pose a problem for you.”
“I have the vow of celibacy down pat.” She bumped his thigh with her hip. “For now.”
He winced a little. “We overdosed on that joke. I have to admit, you had me going. Good gag, though. I tip my writer’s pen to you.”
She wondered if he had considered her boot camp idea at all. She looked at him and could tell he had. There was a slight flush on his handsome face and he’d averted his eyes.
The realization hit her that she was wearing nothing underneath her nightshirt and too many washings had left the white cotton fabric paper-thin. She slid her glance downward. Her nipples strained against the material, and Scooby’s faded tail wagged against her trimmed patch of femininity.
Still looking away, he said, “I won’t stay long, unless you want to talk?”
The last thing she wanted to do with Alex was to rehash her life with Bridezilla. Everyone had a past, and she refused to be defined by hers.
Perhaps she should rethink the whole Alex seduction plan. Maybe it had been her craziest idea yet. “I’m all talked out.” She yawned. “I’m going to turn in early.”
He squeezed her shoulders. “Sleep well.”
A tingle ran up her legs and landed under Scooby’s tail. “Right back at you. Thanks for saving me from the runaway cherry.” She paused. “And for not laughing.”
“That’s what friends are for. Put the safety lock on and call if you need anything.”
He left and disappointment engulfed her. Maybe she should have taken him up on his offer to talk, but that’s not what she wanted to do. This assignment was about adventure, fun and releasing her inhibitions, not serious issues.
Speaking of which, it made her wonder about Alex’s alertness in the hallway. It was so like him. His investigative travels often had him dodging sniper bullets and other dangers. She shivered.
Okay, enough serious shit jogging through my exhausted brain.
She grabbed her iPod, stepped out onto the balcony, settled back in a lounge chair, tuned in to Michael Buble’s jazzy crooning and fell asleep.
A noise below woke her up.
She rose, bent over and saw two shadows emerging from the bushes. A man and woman ran hand in hand down the path and disappeared behind the resort’s health club.
Leaning against the railing, she gazed toward the ocean at the blood-orange sunset, enjoying the last of the sun before it slid gracefully behind the waves. “Spe
ctacular.”
She heard rustling, giggling and glass clinking from the balcony next to her. She remembered the young couple she and Alex had shared an elevator with when they’d arrived. They could barely keep their hands off each other on the way to their suite. Judging from the sounds coming from next door, they were still at it.
Breathing in the cool dusk air, she turned up the volume on her iPod and imagined what it would be like to experience that with Alex—on the beach, on the balcony…
She sighed. Even though her fantasies were better than any therapy session, she resolved she’d have to go back to seducing Alex to get him out of her system.
Hmmm. She’d have to come up with a new and improved plan.
Chapter Four
“It takes two to get one in trouble.”
—Mae West
The next afternoon Alex sat at the desk in his suite and researched the reclusive billionaire Maxwell Hollister on the Internet—Hollister’s employees and acquaintances were tight-lipped—while trying to ignore the fact there was a sun-drenched beach right outside the hotel.
Doing so was impossible.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he rose and wandered to the open patio doors. He watched six men and women playing volleyball on the sandy beach.
His mind drifted to yesterday. He massaged the space between his brows, remembering Maddie’s paleness after she had spoken to her mother. Felicia Saunders collected men the way a black suit collected lint. He couldn’t fathom how she could be George Saunders’s sister. George was a stand-up guy, the polar opposite of Felicia.
Knock. Knock.
He yanked himself back to the present and opened the door to find Tim Graham in the hall.
“What the hell are you doing inside?” Tim entered the room and nodded toward Alex’s laptop. “Haul your ass away from that damn thing. Let’s go. I was on a later flight, and I’ve been on the beach longer.”
Tim was the best photographer he’d ever worked with, a good friend and one of the few people who could help him lighten up.
“Did Maddie send you in here to nag me about working?”
“I saw her at the pool. She looks hot.” Tim slapped him on the back. “What’d she do to you this time?”
What a Girl Wants Page 4
