“Dylan” she choked on her own words. He was smiling and with his name on her lips, his dimples grew deeper and his smile widened.
“Madison” he said softly. She didn’t know what to do and forgot to usher him in.
“What are you doing here? Is Zia okay?” she couldn’t think, she didn’t know what to think.
“She’s fine. In fact, she wanted to come, but I made a sudden trip here and couldn’t bring her with me” he inched closer towards her and she moved aside so he could come into the apartment. He didn’t really take the time to look around or see what she had done with the place, he seemed more interested in her, in her face. He couldn’t stop looking at her.
“So you work at a restaurant?” he asked, eyeing her uniform. She tried to smile and force the words out of her lips.
“At a cafe, yes. What are you doing here?” she asked him again and gently shut the door behind her.
“I came to see you. I had your address for Zia’s letters to you” he sat down on her couch without her offering it to him and she began to blush. Just having him there in her apartment, only minutes after she had been thinking of him…seemed too unreal to be true.
“And why did you want to see me?” she remained standing, a few feet away from him.
“Wow. No formal niceties for you then eh? I wanted to see you because I wanted to see you. As simple as that”, he said and placed his hands on his knees with a thump. In fact, Madison couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him that happy. She wanted to run into his arms and give him a hug, but she didn’t make a move.
“What about your wife? Does she know you’re here?” Madison had to look away when she mentioned Kim. She couldn’t face him while talking about his wife at the same time.
“She probably does. I don’t care. She doesn’t live in the house anymore, so I have no idea how she might be reacting to the news”, when he spoke Madison heard the words but she couldn’t really process the information as quick as he said it. Kim didn’t live in the house anymore? She had no idea what that meant and remained quiet for a few seconds after, staring back at Dylan.
“What does that mean? She doesn’t live in the house anymore?” her voice quivered but Dylan smiled in response.
“I filed for a divorce and she moved out of the house and into an apartment in the city, to be closer to her drinking buddies” he stood up now and took a few steps towards her. Madison couldn’t move, she watched him as he came closer but she could only lean back.
“And what about Zia?” she asked him, her voice still quivering.
“She’s with me. My lawyer doesn’t believe it’ll be too much of a problem for me to get custody of her. Kim’s history of alcohol abuse will make sure that she can never have Zia to herself” Dylan reached out his hand to touch her and Madison almost flinched. The shock of the situation was too much for her to bear.
“I wanted to wait for things to settle down before I came and saw you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you Madison” his voice was low and gruff now and he held up her hand to his lips.
“I don’t know what to say Dylan” she whispered and their eyes locked.
“Tell me that you still feel the same way about me. Because God knows I do” he kissed her hand and pressed it to his cheek. The touch of his cheek against her skin made her back shiver. She wanted to bury her face in his chest.
“Tell me, Madison. That it isn’t too late” he urged her again when she didn’t respond. She jerked her hand away from him and whipped around. She didn’t want to be facing him when she told him the truth.
“I have something to tell you that might change your mind” she said softly, not even sure if he had heard her.
“What can it possibly be Madison?” his voice had changed from happy and optimistic to worried.
“I’m pregnant with your baby” she hung her head down. She didn’t want to look at him while delivering him with news that would change his life forever. This was the very reason why she never wanted him to find out. He was silent for too long.
“And why did you not tell me this before? How long have you known?” she could sense that he had come closer to her, his chest against her back, but he wasn’t touching her.
“Four weeks or so. I didn’t want to disrupt your life. You already had so much going on. With Zia and your wife…” she could hear the sob in her own voice, and he heard it as well.
“Madison, how could you ever think that a child would disrupt my life? Zia is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I know I told you that I wasn’t prepared to be a father but now there is nothing more that I ever want to be” he grasped her shoulders with his hands and whipped her body around to face him again.
“I didn’t want it to seem like a trap Dylan. To force you into choosing sides or having to leave Zia”, she could feel the tears trying to force themselves onto her cheeks. But she struggled against them. She was going to be a mother, she told herself in her head, she needed to be strong.
“Zia is as much my child as the one we are going to have” he was still holding her by her shoulders and now he peered into her eyes, trying to get her to look up at him.
“Madison. Look at me!” his voice was forceful and she turned her head up to look at him.
“We have our chance now Madison. We can have a fresh start” he was smiling and she couldn’t help but smile back. This was soon becoming the happiest day of her life.
“Dylan…” she started to say something but he had enveloped her mouth his lips. She was the one who pushed her tongue into his mouth this time. She was the one who clutched his arms tightly as they kissed. She could sense that he was going to whip her around again, have her over the couch this time and she could feel herself growing wet. The thought that he was here in her apartment, that they were going to be together, that she was already carrying his child, was enough…a soft moan escaped her lips as his hands found their way to her swelling breasts.
*****
Xavier had his mother’s head of dark curls, but his father’s glimmering brown eyes, just like his older sister Zia’s.
He stretched out his arms towards Madison from his crib and she bent down to pick him up, patting him gently on his back.
“Is Xavier awake? Is he? Is he?” Zia came bouncing into the room and ran over to coo at her baby brother, who was five years younger than her. Madison smiled at them both before leaning Xavier over towards Zia so she could plant a long wet kiss on his chubby cheeks.
“Can we play with him now Madison? Can we? Can we please?” Zia was always excited when Xavier was awake. She couldn’t believe she had her own little baby brother. Madison shook her head endearingly and scuffed Zia’s hair.
“For a little bit. You need to do your homework before bed Zia” she followed the little girl out into the living room where they found Dylan sitting on the couch with his laptop on his knees.
“There they are. My girls and of course, my boy” he said and shut his laptop just as Zia climbed on top of his lap.
“Madison said we can play with Xavier” she was clapping her hands.
“I also said that you need to do your homework soon” Madison gently placed the laughing boy on the carpet next to his father’s feet. Dylan bent forward to pinch his cheeks and he gargled a few baby-words in response. They all laughed in unison.
“Why don’t you play with your brother for a while? Madison and I need to talk” Dylan gently pushed Zia off his lap and patted the seat next to him on the couch. Madison sat down beside him and planted a kiss on his lips.
“We have to talk?” she asked him as his hands traveled up to her neck and rested on her nape eventually.
“I received an email from…” he cleared his throat and tilted his head towards Zia.
“You know who, you mean?” Madison asked and rolled her eyes.
“Yup. She’s apparently in therapy now” he was stroking her nape as he spoke and Madison sighed.
“Good for her, I guess”
she said, she was absent-mindedly playing with the hem of her dress as it rested on her knees.
“And as part of her recovery she wants to send you an apology letter and wanted to know if you will be willing to receive one” he said and they exchanged looks. Madison was surprised to hear that Kim had even come that far. She could still recall word for word the threats Kim had left on her voicemail on the day of her wedding with Dylan.
“I suppose I am. Willing, I mean. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of her and her recovery” Madison smiled at Dylan and he nodded his head.
“That’s what I was thinking. She is Zia’s mother after all” he let out a deep sigh and Madison placed her head on his shoulder. She knew that despite everything, Dylan Silverman was a good man.
Forbidden Touch
Zari never felt more alive than when she was in Bill’s arms. When he wrapped those muscular arms around her, and she felt the press of his hard chest, she could hear his heart beating loudly against her cheek, and she could feel the strength in him. He went to the gym four times a week, but you’d think he went every day from looking at him. She loved to feel his chin resting atop her head. She loved it when he moved his hand around her side and cupped her breast. She loved the way his breath quickened, hot on her skin, when she reached down and grabbed his cock, which was huge.
She didn’t know how long they’d been in the closet, simply holding each other, every now and then kissing and touching, but she knew it had been too long. That was not unusual, she thought with a stab in her chest. It is always too long. We can be in here for five minutes—and it is too long. Soon, Emily – the wife, as she always thought of her – would be home. And so would Chuck and Elise, his children. She felt another stab in her chest, this time from guilt. She felt so incredibly guilty, and yet she did not stop. She felt so incredibly guilty, and yet she never stopped.
“Is something wrong?” he whispered, stroking her hair.
“You know it is,” she said. “Something is always wrong with us, Bill.”
He sighed, and then – without warning – he grabbed a bunch of her hair and pulled it harshly. Zari felt a thrill of pain and pleasure move through her. She craned her neck, and looked up at him. He stared down at her with his ice-cold blue eyes. “Are you going to come for me, slut?” he said, in his commanding voice.
With his free hand he moved down her body to her pussy, and began to run. Zari could not take her eyes from his hard face. Bill Dunn, her man, her lover, her everything. She could not believe that he belonged to anybody else. “I’ll come for you, baby,” she moaned. “I’ll come as much as—”
“We’re home!”
Emily’s voice cut through the moment like a sword. Any pleasure or anticipation that had been building in Zari died in a moment. Her chest compressed as though a vending machine was atop it. This had happened dozens of time, and yet she still felt the stabbing nerves that came with the prospect of getting caught.
“Shit,” Bill muttered.
“Shit,” Zari agreed.
“I’ll go out first and distract them,” he said. “Listen for the word groceries from me. If I say it, it means they are not near the door, okay?”
Zari sighed and nodded. It was humiliating, but it had to be done. “Okay.”
Bill shuffled around her and was about to leave the closet. Before he did, he turned and touched Zari’s face. One of the things that made her want Bill every second of the goddamn day was how he could go from a tough, dominating man like he’d been seconds ago, to a soft, loving one, like he was now. He adapted to her moods, to their moments. He was a genius at it. It’s what makes him such a successful salesman, the cynical part of Zari thought. But she knew that moments like these could not be faked. He stroked her cheek.
“I love you,” he said.
He looked from his ice-blue eyes to his strong, square, shaven cheek, to his lips that always seemed to be touched with a cocky smirk, to his short jet-black hair, and then to his ruffled suit. “Smooth your suit before you go out,” she said.
He laughed, and then left the room.
Zari would be lying if she said she did not feel her self-regard drop every time she had to listen out for a code word in situations like these. Here she was, a twenty-eight-year-old African American housekeeper, having an affair with her boss. Could I be more of a cliché, damn! She felt it as a physical sensation; she wanted to shrink as though a stadium full of people was staring at her. Her palms sweated, her head ached. But she had to ignore all of that. She had to listen for the word. There was nothing else to do. She had to.
“I didn’t realize you were going to be back so soon!” Bill laughed, voice raised.
Emily said something in return (Zari couldn’t hear) and then Bill went on: “How are we doing for groceries?”
Zari sighed with relief and opened the door. She walked into the hallway and smoothed down her maid’s outfit. Her tights had hiked up her leg; she smoothed them down. The front of her shirt was twisted slightly; she righted it. Her hair had begun to loosen in its ponytail; she brushed it with her hand, and redid the ponytail. The closet was at the end a hallway which only had two additional rooms: Bill’s study and the guest bedroom. She walked past these rooms – duster in hand, ah, the cliché! – and down the staircase that led to the wide-open reception area.
“Ah, Zari!” Emily’s voice was like a whip, high-pitched, harsh.
Zari turned, wearing her best fake smile. “Yes, ma’am?”
Emily was a thin, rakish woman with pale thin lips that seemed to meld with her skin and tiny ears. Her skin was the whitest white Zari had ever seen. She had never been to the beach with her, but she was sure if she did she’d be able to see through her skin. Her upper teeth were constantly bared when she spoke to Zari, as though the fact of her being there displeased her for some reason which Zari could not work out. She always wore the most expensive dresses, with a glittering watch on her wrist, and necklaces galore, even when she was just around the house, or going to the shop. Emily Dunn needed even the cashiers to know that she could afford sparkly things.
“Take a look in the garage, p-lease!” She always added p-lease, turning the word into two syllables, but when she said it, it sounded like now. “It is absolutely filthy in the air. Just give it a really good clean, p-lease!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Zari said inclining her head.
Emily Dunn had Zari clean that garage at least twice a week. It was perfectly clean. Maybe she just wants me out of the way, Zari thought, as she walked to the garage. It was strange, because Zari had never done anything to offend her.
Except fuck and fall in love with her husband, but she didn’t know about that.
*****
It was always the same. Emily gnawed at his ear like something trying to burrow into his brain. Her words were like tiny shovels, digging into him. He tried to calm his frenetic heartbeat, tried to stop the pulsing in his head, but it was impossible. Her high-pitched voice whipped at him. “The boy in the shop today was so rude!” she laughed, clapping her hands together. She often clapped her hands together, seemingly for no reason. “I told him: Smile, why don’t you! People might want to come in here more often! Just smile, p-lease! And do you know what he did? He laughed! He laughed at me! I asked him why he was laughing, and then he started stuttering and stammering like an absolute idiot! I had enough. I called for the manager. The manager – another idiot – started to stammer about how this boy had some kind of condition, blah-blah-blah, p-lease! As if that was an excuse! I won’t be going there again.”
Bill sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb. He could clearly see the boy, probably no older than fourteen, shrinking under the gaze of this vicious, sharp woman. He didn’t know why Emily took such pleasure in belittling people; all he knew was that she did. For the hundredth time he wondered why he had married the first woman he’d kissed. High-school sweethearts, what a joke!he thought dryly, as his wife droned on. If he felt any feeling of guilt at these thought
s, they were pushed far down.
He rolled over and closed his eyes. “I’m tired,” he said, trying to keep his voice lighthearted. “I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she replied. “I guess I’ll just sit here and twiddle my fucking thumbs.”
Bill ignored the comment, as he ignored hundreds of comments like that every year, little snide digs at his failures as a man and a husband. And if he made any sort of remark to her, he was a monster, an animal who needed to learn manners. He closed his eyes, and he thought about high school, when they’d both been dirt-poor, from dirt-poor families. Bill had vowed to make something of himself, and he had. With nothing to rely on but charm and determination, he had made something of himself. But Emily seemed to forget that they had ever been poor. She seemed to think that because he had had some success as a salesman, she could look down on the entire world. It sickened him, and it made him long for Zari.
Zari, he thought, smiling. Thinking of her name always made him smile. Zari, the most beautiful woman on this planet, with her dark skin and her brown eyes and her black hair and her petite breasts and her strong thighs and her plush lips. Just thinking of her made him hard. They had been dating for one and a half years, and yet he could still feel childish, could still fee butterflies, just when he thought of her. He imagined spending an entire day with her, at the beach, at a museum, at whatever . . . it didn’t matter where, as long as they were together.
But that was impossible. He had his life, his responsibilities, his shackles.
*****
Bill would often leave her notes around the house. It was the most dangerous thing they did, because one of the kids or Emily could easily pick them up, but they had a system to try and fight some of this danger. He would write his messages on yellow sticky notes, and then ball them up and leave them in places only the maid would look: under the couch cushions, behind the refrigerator, in the packet where the trash bags were kept. Today, two days after their time in the closet, she found one of the messages in sponge drawer. She looked around, and seeing that nobody was watching her, flattened out the note and read it.
Sucker for the Boss Page 77
