by Lexi Whitlow
I manage to avoid having to speak with either Evelyn or her husband all night long, but from my position, guarding the wall-paper, I get a pretty good opportunity to observe them both. Evelyn is like Avery in many respects. She works the room and its well-heeled occupants like a professional pickpocket. She winds it out of them in conversation, smiling and laughing at their bad jokes, then finding just the right opportunity, she dips in and secures their support. The people in this room already paid $5000 a head just for the privilege of breathing the same air as Evelyn Thomas, but she uses everything she has in her bag of con-game tricks to convince them it’s their idea to commit to more.
The even more interesting party to watch, however, is General Thomas. He doesn’t concern himself with the country-club donors and small-issue locals. He hangs back by the bar, a drink in his hand, and he lets the big fish swim up to him. By the end of the night he’s got a pocket full of business cards from lawyers and lobbyists, all willing to pay millions for easy access to the senator and her staff.
If Evelyn Thomas is re-elected, those same lobbyists will be the ones writing legislation that she presents before the Senate as her own. Call me cynical, but I just know in my gut that those guys in three thousand dollar suits hanging out with General Thomas don’t work for The Nature Conservancy.
By eleven, at least half the guests have cleared out, and Avery looks flat-out exhausted. She’s a dutiful soldier, however, and she doubles back for a clean-up round with the stragglers. General Thomas has effectively clocked out. He sheds his jacket, rolls his sleeves up, and occupies himself in a low-voiced conversation with a guy who looks like he’s dressed for a night out at the pub rather than this black-tie fête. Neither of them look entirely happy.
I’ve seen the guy before, but I can’t place where.
General Thomas shakes his head at the guy, and I can read his lips when he says, “Absolutely not. It’s over. Done.”
The guy rolls his eyes and nods. “Okay. But I still get...”
Someone walks past him and I miss the last bit. Something about the guy and the way Thomas is talking with him feels hinky to me. Instinctively, I lift my camera from my hip pocket, snap a couple generic photos of the room and the crowd, then focus a tight shot on the guy’s face before snapping a few more randomly. All very nonchalant — I’m a trained professional, after all. Luckily, no one notices my sudden, out-of-character interest in the evening’s proceedings.
I could say I trust General Thomas because he’s a Marine. But that would be a damn lie. He’s become Evelyn’s right-hand man since retiring, and there’s no lengths he wouldn’t go to get his way.
I know that all too well.
A few moment’s later I see Avery turn slightly away from a walrus-toothed, tuxedo-clad man who’s gripping her hand like he might propose. She scans the room. I step away from the wallpaper and catch her eye in seconds. She nods to me, her quick glance requests my assistance in extracting her from her current companion. I’m happy to accommodate.
I step up behind Avery and touch her elbow, saying. “Miss Thomas, whenever you’re ready I can have the car brought up. You said we needed to leave by 11:45.”
She gives me a polite, slightly dismissive smile for the benefit of the man who won’t let go of her hand, and says, “Yes. Do that Maddox.” Then she returns to her admirer, all warm and glowing deference. “I’m so sorry, I have a midnight call – Tokyo – the time difference is brutal.”
I leave Avery to make her excuses while I drop the parking ticket at the valet desk. As I’m heading back into the ballroom, the casually dressed guy who was talking with General Thomas passes me, glancing up, then he quickly drops his eyes. He is familiar, and ducking his eyes like that confirms that he knows me too. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to take a crowd shot at the last fundraiser, just to see if I can place him near Avery that night.
Maybe there’s security footage? I make a mental note to call the Fairmont tomorrow.
Once inside I spot Avery with her mother. I keep a respectful distance, but I make sure Avery sees that I’ve returned. A few moments later, after brushing past a determined gauntlet of paparazzi camped outside the hotel’s main entrance, we’re tucked inside the Rover, windows down, taking in the unseasonably warm evening air, speeding away from the hotel on mostly deserted streets.
“Thank you for that rescue,” Avery says, her voice slightly horse, thin with fatigue.
“My pleasure.” I reply. “You okay?”
She nods, then sighs, gazing out the window. She seems sad.
“Can we talk?” I ask her.
She sighs again, her padded shoulders slumping. “Maddox, I’m so tired. Can we just let it be for right now?”
I have waited all day for this ten minute window to be alone with her. I haven’t slept. I’m walking on eggshells whenever I’m around her, and she wants to ‘just let it be.’ No fucking way. I pull the SUV over, coasting into a street side parking space in front of a clothing shop.
“Okay,” I say, focusing intently on my hands in my lap so I can’t see her expression. “I’ll talk. You listen.”
“Maddox, please...”
“Just shut up and listen and then I’ll take you home,” I say firmly. “I don’t want to take your parents’ money, but I also don’t want to quit this job while you’re stuck in this Stepford Daughter role. You’ve decided to play along with your folks and do your ‘duty’. I can do the same thing. I can stay, and maybe even help to keep some space between you and your mother. Help them have more reasonable expectations. I’ll never believe for a second that you want to put yourself out there like a piece of meat to lure those people onto your mother’s hook, any more than you’ll convince me your new ‘look’ was your idea. It isn’t who you are. I don’t think it’ll last.
“And I’ll never be the obedient little errand boy they seem to think they can convince me to become, if they just throw enough money at me. Your parents can’t tell me who to sleep with, or who to…”
“Maddox...”
“No, I’m not done...”
“Maddox!”
I look up. There’s a car in front of us and three guys with camera’s fanning out around the Rover, snapping photographs as they move.
Fucking hell. Stalkerazzi scum. I hit the buttons on the door to raise the windows, then I step out of the vehicle, feeling a crushing burst of adrenaline pumping through my system, sharpening my focus, making my fists clench.
“Maddox, please keep your cool! Don’t get yourself arrested! They’re not worth it!”
I slam the Rover’s door closed and run down the nearest guy, wrenching the camera out of his hand. I want to smash it over his skull, but I hear Avery’s words in my head. Instead I find the slot for the memory card. I pop it out and snap it into pieces between my thumb and forefinger, then shove the camera back at its owner with a warning.
“You should fuck the hell off. The lady’s off the clock.”
The guy looks at the destroyed card lying shredded at my feet, then at me. “I had some thousand dollar shots on that. God damn...”
“Yeah, well, you can’t spend it six feet under. Next time I won’t worry about fucking up the memory card. It’ll be your fucking face.”
He turns and starts to walk away, then he turns back. “Fuck you Bryant. You and your uptown, snotty girlfriend. Everybody knows you’re doing her. We’re just trying to get pictures to prove it. It’s only a matter of time.”
“It’s only a matter of time before I break your fucking neck.” I growl. I step toward him, which sends him and his buddies scurrying back to their car like startled rabbits. They speed off, taking photos of me as they depart.
I go back to the Range Rover and climb in. Avery is sitting up, wide-eyed. She’s looking at me like I just slayed a dragon.
“That was really brave,” she says.
I shake my head. “No. That wasn’t brave. That was just me making empty threats at a piss-ant little shit who needs t
o find a better way to earn a living.”
I put the Rover into gear and pull off. “We’ll finish our conversation at your place.”
Once in her apartment, I take off my tie – which is strangling me – and shed my coat. I shrug off my shoulder rig and hang it on the back of a kitchen chair while Avery disappears into her bedroom to get out of that ridiculous outfit.
When she emerges, she’s a lot closer to her old self, wearing worn jeans with holes at the knees and a City Lights t-shirt that looks older than she is. She fetches two beers from the fridge, opens them, hands me one, and then plops herself down on the couch, tucking her feet under her hips.
“You want to talk,” she says. “So talk.”
I take a seat across from her. I try to find the words. It’s more difficult than it should be, and I still don’t understand her decision.
“Can you explain why you decided to fall in line with your mother’s demands now? After all this time of trying so hard to be a thorn in her side? Why you’ve just folded?”
She gives me a sad smile. “Because you mean a lot to me. We’ve been friends forever. And I know you had to leave the service to help with your mother. You need to start over – again. I don’t want to screw that up for you.”
“Avery, you’re not screwing anything up. I can get by...”
“Yeah. I know.” She teases, interrupting. “You can ‘get by’. Your idea of living life is pretty meager. You always have been a bit low on the expectations side, but my parents can pretty much destroy any prospects you might have. I’m the reason you were forced into the service in the first place. I know you didn’t want to go. I’m not going to be the reason your entire life gets ruined.”
Her logic is so flawed that it’s difficult sometimes to rationalize it against all the expensive education she’s had.
“The Marines was the best thing that ever happened to me.” I tell her. “Except coming back here – to you.”
“Maddox, please...”
“No. I’m not giving you up.”
“We have to stop. You need the job.”
“I’ll agree to stop when you tell me you want me to stop – for you. Not for me, or your parents, or anyone else. That’s the one thing I haven’t heard from you.”
I stand up and move toward her, swiftly slipping over her on the couch, pushing her down. I kiss her lips – gently at first – waiting for her response. She tries not to kiss me back and I feel her hand pressing against my chest, but in just a second her fingers thread behind my neck and her lips rise into mine. Her body heaves up to meet me.
I want her so badly. I want her to be mine and mine alone. I want all those guys who talk trash about her to see her on my arm and know that I’m the one, the only one, that she comes for. I want her parents to see her blissfully happy, and to realize they can no longer control her. I want to see her laugh at insipid ideas about money, or status, or people’s opinions. I want my opinion to be the only one that concerns her.
I lift her t-shirt and bury my face in her slightly sun-burned breasts, kissing them, stretching her nipples between my fingers.
“I’ll take your parent’s money,” I say, lapping and sucking the swollen, tender flesh. “And I’ll play the part. But here – you and I – we do what we want. It’s nobody’s business but ours.”
Two hours later, laying in the dark with Avery cradled in my arms, she looks up into my eyes.
“I don’t understand how we’re gonna pull this off. I suck at keeping secrets.”
I nod. “Me too, but we will, as long as we have to. Eventually the election will be over, and then – if you want – we’ll come clean. ‘Til then, we’ll stay on the down-low, just to keep everyone happy.”
Everyone but us.
Chapter Nineteen
Avery
“Darling, did you know that the digital memory cards on those expensive cameras professional photographers use cost thirty-thousand dollars?”
Evelyn and I are in a limo, headed back to her office after having spent the most tedious three hours of my life in the company of seventy-odd members of the Sausalito Women’s Club. Mother gave a speech on the topic of local government, promoting the idea of allowing the locals to determine the shape and character of their community, rather than having to cater to big-government mandates like providing public schools, public transportation, or equal access to housing. They ate her up like crème brulée, and came back for seconds. They couldn’t write checks fast enough.
“I thought memory cards were pretty cheap,” I say, knowing exactly where she’s going with this.
“In fact, they’re not,” she says. “I know this because my attorney informed me this morning we paid that amount of money to some online publication called TMZ in compensation for the destruction of a memory card – the destruction allegedly done by one Maddox Bryant.”
I say nothing.
“He’s a very expensive lap dog.” Evelyn observes. “And I suspect he’s prone to nip on occasion. See if you can keep him on a leash. And, as I’m thinking of it, let me remind you again that we are living under a microscope. It’s wonderful that outlets like these TMZ people are so willing to settle and keep their mouths shut. CNN would not be nearly as easy to manage. The scrutiny is only going to become more intense. You – and your lap dog – need to mind yourselves. The press is trying to find anything – anything at all – to pin to us. We need to be beyond reproach.”
I’m silent as she prattles on.
“You know, maybe we just need to let him go. I believe the two of you have been far too involved with each other. That is a breach of his contract, but your father says he trusts Maddox since we’re able to do so much for Nadine. Now, I love Nadine, but — she doesn’t have so long to live anyway.”
“We’re not involved,” I say. “Not at all.”
“That’s good to hear, Avery. He’s just not good enough for you.”
I listen to her keep on, because I have to. Because there’s nowhere else to go.
Maddox meets me at home after I get back from Sausalito. He’s been a little distracted over the last several days – something is weighing on him – but I haven’t had much time to pry hard into what’s going on, and right now is not the time. It’s the first evening I’ve had free in weeks. My best friend Ella and I are getting together for dinner and drinks. Its the first non-Stepford Daughter thing I’ve done socially in what feels like forever.
Maddox is driving us to the restaurant, but he’s being the ‘good bodyguard’ since the night of that last-minute fundraiser. In public he plays the part of the disinterested employee just doing his job. When we get home it’s another story. So far no one is the wiser, but tonight I need to confess to somebody, and Ella is (aside from Maddox) my oldest and dearest friend. Plus she’s female, and I need a woman’s perspective on all of this.
“I absolutely detest your hair,” Ella says as soon as we sit down. “I saw you on TV the other day and I screamed. You probably heard me.”
I touch the chemically straightened, blow dried style, and I cringe. “I know.” I reply, screwing up my face. “Not my idea.”
Ella shakes her head at me. “Girlfriend, what the hell are you doing? I know your politics. I know you! And you’re on the road, selling that snake oil? Please.”
“I have no choice,” I say, lamely attempting to defend myself. “But I don’t want to talk about my mother. I have other… issues.”
Ella’s eyes narrow. “Dish.”
A second later a deliciously handsome waiter with piercing green eyes arrives at our table and tells us about the specials. I can’t help but grin as he turns, wagging a very nice ass, departing after he’s taken our order.
“Gay.” Ella states. “He’s wearing colored contacts. I know about these things. Now dish.”
I take a deep breath and then I tell her almost everything, beginning with the threatening text and photos, and the ‘safe house’ get away to San Diego, the private beach, and ending w
ith Maddox and I having a secret, incredibly hot, relationship right under my mother’s nose, while she’s paying him to keep me from fucking around.
Ella listens to all of it, taking in every detail. When I finally stop talking she gives me that enigmatic smile she reserves for dumb frat boys who try to catcall her. Then she glances over to the bar where Maddox is sitting by himself with a steaming plate of high-protein something and a glass of iced tea.
“How long have you known this dude?” She asks me.
I shrug. “Since high school. Before that, I guess. We hung out as little kids, and then I really got to know him that last year of high school after he had to drop out of community college.”
“Yeah.” Ella replies. She glances at Maddox again, then back. “Girl, I may only be an art major, but I was not born yesterday. I’ve known you since you started hanging out with him, and I’ve never seen you with a guy like that one. And I’ve never seen that look in your eye.”
“We’re just fucking around,” I say, lying. I feel the color coming to my cheeks. “It was a high school crush. We’re just…. feeling it out.”
“My ass,” Ella says, rolling her eyes. “Why don’t ya’ll just tell Evelyn to go get fucked? It’s obvious you care about him. Take a damn risk Avery.”
Oh no. Not Ella too?
“I can’t,” I mumble. I try to think. “Maddox’s mom is sick. He needs this job. If Evelyn finds out we’ve kept on with this, they’ll fire him. He won’t get his money. I can’t let that….”
“Oh good Lord, Avery Thomas. Your family doesn’t rule the whole world – not yet anyway. Tall Dark and Dangerous over there looks like he can take care of himself just fine. If he’s sticking around through all this BS your mother’s thrown his way, then he’s every bit as into you as you are into him. You’re just like your damn mother. You want to control everything and everyone. But sweetheart, you can’t control who you fall in love with. That shit just happens – or not.”
