by Portia Moore
After dinner, Tiffany and I help Cassandra clear the table while Alex makes us fresh drinks, and then we all relax in the living room as Alex, Philip, and Tiffany start playing a round of poker.
“Want to join in, Dad?” Tiffany asks, waving the cards at him.
“No, I’ll give someone else a chance to win,” he teases, with a smile that once made me blush, and everyone laughs good-naturedly.
“That really was amazing, Mom,” Tiffany says. “I’m impatient for dessert, but I’m too full.”
“It’s definitely improved since your father and I met,” Cassandra says, laughing. She turns her attention to me. “Jackson and I met at a barbeque a mutual friend of ours had and I tried my luck at potato salad. It was completely inedible.” She chuckles.
“It was really bad,” Jackson says, shaking his head. “I remember telling him it’s a good thing you’re gorgeous, because you can’t cook worth a damn. But with looks like that, who cares? I’d get takeout every night.”
Cassandra blushes. “You could still mix a mean drink back then. Although I think you made that mojito extra strong on purpose.”
“It was my best shot at getting you to agree to a walk on the beach with me.”
“Well, you succeeded.” She gives him another of those looks, and I shift uncomfortably in my chair. A wave of guilt washes over me—here she is, reminiscing about her early days with her husband, not knowing that his former mistress is sitting across the table. “Here we are, all those years later.”
“Here we are indeed.” Jackson beams at Alex and Tiffany. “And with two beautiful kids to boot.”
“I was so nervous when I married Jackson, becoming the stepmother to someone else’s son. But Kate was always so sweet to me, and Alex was such a good kid.”
“I was?” Alex laughs.
“He was not,” Tiffany confirms. “Mom is just being nice.”
“Tell us,” Cassandra says, turning towards me and Alex, “how did you and Madison meet, Alex?”
“Total whim of fate,” Alex says, reaching for my hand and smiling at me. “Out of all the bars in Miami, Florida, she walked into mine.”
“That’s really cheesy,” Tiffany complains.
“It’s true, though. She walked in, wearing this gorgeous blue bikini, and I was a goner. Had to flirt with her the whole hour and give her a free drink just to get her name.”
“Like father, like son.” Cassandra rolls her eyes.
I’m going to be sick, right here at the table.
“Anyway, she said she was there with someone.”
I flinch at that, carefully not looking at Jackson. Of course, he was the someone I was there with. I can feel my palms get clammy, and I hope Alex doesn’t notice. My heart is beating so loud I swear if he listened hard enough he’d hear it.
“Lucky for me, the next time we ran into each other was at a restaurant in New York. It took me a long time to convince her to go out on a date with me—after we’d already moved in together.” Alex chuckles.
“What?” Cassandra laughs.
“You’re kidding!” Philip exclaims.
“Well, she needed a place to stay, and I had a spare room. It was supposed to be a friend-slash-roommate situation, but I knew I’d wear her down and I finally got that date, though. And haven’t looked back since.”
“That’s adorable,” Tiffany admits, grinning.
“It really is.” Cassandra smiles at him. “And I can tell you just adore her.”
Alex looks at me, and the love in his face is palpable. “I do,” he says. “I’ve been crazy in love with her since we met.” My skin is on fire but I can’t help but smile.
Jackson clears his throat, pushing his seat back from the table. “I just need some air,” he says quickly. “Excuse me, please.”
Cassandra watches him go and after a few minutes past and he doesn’t return, her brow creases with concern. Her, Alex, Tiffany, and Philip are all deep in their first round of poker, and she glances at me. “Madison, will you go check on him, please?”
Oh, fuck.
There’s no excuse for me not to go out after him, so I do, drink still tightly in hand. Jackson is standing out on the terrace, looking out over the yard. He doesn’t turn at the sound of my footsteps, and I hesitate, unsure of how to handle this. I don’t want to revive any closeness between us. I’ve worked hard to put walls up, to make sure that no hint of our former relationship can spark to life again. Especially now that we work together. But I have to say something.
“Jackson, what’s wrong?” I ask, my hand tightening around my drink.
“You know what’s wrong.” He doesn’t look at me.
“Cassandra should be the one out here, but she sent me. What went wrong between the two of you?” Suddenly I really want to know. It hasn’t made any sense to me since the minute I met Cassandra. “Your wife is beautiful, kind, and she clearly still loves you. You have a fantastic family.” What’s wrong with you, that you would cheat on her? But I won’t dare say that here, in their home. “What the hell happened?”
Jackson turns to face me then, shrugging, but the expression on his face is anything but flippant. “Sometimes you fall out of love,” he says quietly. “You grow apart. We’ve been together for a long time.” He glances away from me then, back out over the yard as he takes a deep gulp of his drink. “I did really love her, once.”
“What about now?” I ask gently. “Could you again, do you think? For the sake of your family? Jackson, it’s going to tear them apart if you divorce her.”
He looks back at me then, and his expression is pained. “Love her again? You mean the way I loved you?”
The words hit me like a physical blow. No, no, I think, and I can’t come up with anything to say. I was just a side piece, a diversion, or at least that’s what I thought. But he keeps insisting that he loved me—that he still loves me.
“Don’t say that,” I tell him tightly. “I’m in love with your son, Jackson.”
“I know,” he says sullenly, turning away from me. I’m about to give up and go back inside when the French doors open, and Tiffany steps out.
“Come on, Dad,” she says, glancing between the two of us. “Mom is serving up dessert. And Alex says he needs a real challenge at poker.”
Jackson doesn’t move for a moment, but finally he turns around to face his daughter. To my surprise his face is smooth and emotionless, as if the conversation we just had never happened. He follows Tiffany back inside, cracking jokes about Alex’s poker playing, and I’m left to trail behind them, my heart sinking.
Is it always going to be this way?
17
I’m not any more thrilled to be attending Tiffany’s bachelorette party the following weekend than I was attending Cassandra’s dinner. I like Tiffany’s company, and a night of drinking sounds like fun, but I know Holly will be there, and that’s another interaction that I’m not in the mood for. It’s gotten to where I spend some afternoons at the office just fantasizing about taking Alex and moving far, far away—and never telling our families where we’re going. Just so I can stop having to deal with my ex-boyfriend, who is my boyfriend’s father, and that boyfriend’s ex-wife.
Oh, yes, and my absentee father who I’ve recently found out wasn’t quite so absentee and a mother who lied and a sister who is pissed at me.
The bachelorette party is being held at a luxury bar downtown, followed by an after-party sleepover at Tiffany’s condo. I’d had Parker on my calendar for a girl’s night out tonight since before Tiffany had invited me to the party, so I’d asked if I could bring Parker along. Thank God she said yes. And Alyssa is coming along, too, so the three of us get ready at my apartment and then take an Uber downtown to meet the rest of the girls.
The theme of the bachelorette party is just “glam,” so I decided to have a little more fun with my clothes than I have in a while. I picked out a lavender, 90s-style slip dress, paired with a metallic champagne-colored velvet choker, strappy high heel
s, and some frosted eyeshadow to top it off—although I didn’t go too crazy. I wish Alex could see me like this but he’s working a late event, and won’t see me until I got back tomorrow morning.
Parker is flopped on the bed while I’m finishing my makeup, dressed in a skin-tight, black sequined minidress that barely covers her ass, six-inch heels, and perfect makeup with diamond chandelier earrings. “Hurry up,” she complains, flipping through an old magazine she found in my nightstand. “I want to get drunk.”
“We all do. Why can’t just the three of us go out and not hang out with those stuck-up bitches?” says Alyssa, who is hanging in the doorway. True to form, she hasn’t quite fit the theme. She’s wearing a tight black miniskirt, a metallic crop top, and platform Doc Martens with goth-style buckles. Her style preferences are all over the place and I never know what to expect her in.
“Madisonnnn,” Parker whines. “One-third of the main cast of The Craft is here.”
“You’re hilarious,” Alyssa laughs, flopping onto the bed next to her. “This is my version of glam.”
“You shouldn’t call them stuck-up,” I say to Alyssa. “Tiffany isn’t stuck-up at all.”
“No, but her friends are,” Alyssa pouts. “I don’t want to go to some bougie bar downtown. We could go check out the Hive, maybe go dancing…”
“Come on, Alyssa, it won’t kill you. It’s Tiffany’s big night.”
“Holly is going to be there,” Alyssa groans.
“I know.” I finish applying my lipstick and walk to the bathroom door, posing dramatically. “How’s this?”
“Like the 90s never ended.” Parker bounces off of the bed, grabbing her jeweled clutch purse. “Let’s go, kids.”
When we arrive at the bar, I’m momentarily stunned by how gorgeous it is. It’s all done in a French Moulin Rouge aesthetic, big red velvet curtain swags and a mahogany bar, chandeliers everywhere, and a lounge singer dripping with diamonds dressed in satin. Tiffany has already secured a large table in one of the corners behind a velvet rope—with bottle service, since several bottles of Dom Perignon are already on the table, along with a cheese board and some dainty pastries and other sweets.
“Madison!” Tiffany squeals, dancing up to me to give me a hug. She’s wearing a pastel pink satin sheath dress, and has diamonds and pearls on everywhere—from the studs in her ears to the long draping necklace to the wide diamond-crusted cuff on her wrist. And, of course, her engagement ring. She truly is the least pretentious rich girl I’ve ever known, but her friends tend to go in the opposite direction. “And Alyssa, I’m so glad you’re here! Madison, is this your friend Parker?”
“That’s me,” Parker says, grinning. “Nice to meet you, Tiffany. Madison has said a lot of nice things about you.”
Tiffany looks at me, smiling. “Aww, that’s so sweet of her.” Parker nudges me playfully.
“Come meet my friends,” Tiffany says, ushering us over to the table. “Madison, you know Holly already.” I try not to grimace as Holly gives me a tight, cold smile. “This is Danielle, Holly’s best friend. She helps run the Ritz-Carlton hotel chains here in Manhattan, if you ever need accomodations.” She points at a gorgeous redhead who gives me a small wave. Oh, great. A best friend of Holly’s should be a real treat. “This is Cora, and Jessie, and Blythe. We’ve all been friends since college,” She introduces three other girls, all of whom are beautiful, dripping with expensive jewelry, and in designer dresses. I still don’t regret my Amazon purchase for one second.
“Let’s drink!” Tiffany squeals, pouring champagne into the crystal coupe glasses. We all cheer along and toast to Tiffany, clinking the glasses together as Alyssa visibly stifles an eye roll. The lounge singer croons in the background in something French, and when I glance towards Holly, I see Danielle’s eyes on me. She’s looking at me curiously. I know Holly has already told her a bunch of lies and terrible shit about me but her look isn’t vindictive. It’s almost a look as if trying to place me.. I’ve never met any of the girls personally, other than Holly and Tiffany. They were all probably at the big family dinner that Jackson hosted, but there was so much going on that night that I didn’t meet everyone.
The champagne is good, better than any I’ve ever had, and I down my first glass. It eases my nerves a little, but Holly and Danielle keep looking at me, and occasionally Holly leans over to whisper something to her. I know they’re talking shit about me, but I knew that’s what would happen tonight and I try to ignore it.
“So where are you going for your honeymoon?” Parker asks. She fits in well with the other girls. While she’s much nicer than, say, Danielle or Holly, she’s polished and has money of her own, so she’s more comfortable in this kind of setting than me or Alyssa.
“The Amalfi Coast,” Tiffany says excitedly. “We have a villa on the water. It’s super luxurious and has its own private butler, everything catered…I’m so excited. A week of laying out in the sun and drinking and doing nothing at all sounds amazing. There’s supposed to be so many amazing things to see and do, maybe we’ll even see some celebrities!”
“I’m so jealous,” Holly says. “Maybe I should get married again, just so I can have a honeymoon. Alex and I went to England.” She rolls her eyes. “It was damp and raining the whole time, nothing but museums and history. I would have loved a sun-drenched vacation.”
By now the champagne is flowing even faster, and we’re all a little tipsy. “Yes a do-over is definitely needed!” Danielle giggles. “You said the sex was amazing though!” She cackles and I feel my face turn hard. Parker squeezes my knee as if to say don’t blow a gasket. I bite my lip and sip some more champagne to calm the nerves that are building every second now.
“Danielle, how is the hotel business? I imagine running a luxury hotel chain in New York takes up quite a bit of your time,” Parker asks, trying to divert the turn the conversation has taken, and Tiffany looks beyond grateful.
“I’m always so busy,” Danielle agrees. “Hardly any time for dating or meeting anyone new. But I do alright.” She narrows her eyes at me again. “I swear, Madison, you look so familiar. Have I met you somewhere before?”
“I don’t think so,” I say coolly, taking a sip of my champagne.
Danielle shrugs, but she grins at Holly, who giggles and whispers something to her again. Danielle raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.
“Let’s play a game,” Cora says, pouring herself more champagne. “Never have I ever…”
“Ooh, I love this game,” Tiffany says, brightening. “The one time being a little bit of a goody-two-shoes comes in handy,” she laughs. “There’s a lot I haven’t done.”
“Well, then,” Blythe chimes in. “Never have I ever…French kissed another girl.”
The girls all laugh, with Parker, Alyssa, and Danielle holding up a glass. I glance at Parker, surprised, and she shrugs. “What? It was a good way to get guys.”
“Parker, your turn.”
Parker grimaces. “That’s a tough one. Never have I ever…had sex in a public place.”
Holly laughs, holding up a hand. “Alex has always been a bit of an exhibitionist. Almost got caught, too. I was in his lap, and…”
Tiffany cuts her off. “Holly, you go next.”
Holly purses her lips. “Never have I ever…had a threesome.”
Parker raises her glass again, and so does Cora. Alyssa gives me a innocent look before raising her own. “Your secret’s safe with me.” I giggle and shrug.
“Cora?”
“Never have I ever…bought sexy lingerie.” Cora blushes. “I know! I know! But it always seems like such a waste of money!”
No one else raises their hand. “Alex loves red lace,” Holly says, smirking, “though it didn’t stay on me for very long!”
Oh god. I can feel my stomach turning over, and my face heats. I’m suddenly very aware of how much champagne I’ve drank, and how little of a filter I have when I’m drunk.
“Never have I ever…let a guy come in my
mouth,” Blythe says. “Gross.”
We all lift our glasses. “I let Alex come in my mouth every time I blow him,” I say crudely, looking straight at Holly. “He fucking loves it.”
The tension in our little corner of the room goes up by several degrees. I see Cora, Jessie, and Blythe look at each other, eyebrows raised.
“Okay, I have a good one,” Tiffany says, laughing. “I want to know how many of you are this dirty. Never have I ever…tossed a guy’s salad.”
All of us except Blythe and Jessie leave our hands firmly in our laps.
“Oh my god, Blythe!” Tiffany shrieks. “You think a guy coming in your mouth is gross but you’ll do that?”
“He was super hot and we were right out of the shower. It was only once!” Blythe exclaims, blushing.
“I’ve never done it but Alex is so good with his mouth,” Holly says.
Oh fuck no! I see red and I know I’m drunk because I can almost feel tears in my eyes, but I bite them back. I’m too angry, and I won’t humiliate myself by letting Holly see me cry.
“Yeah he is, I can’t keep his mouth away from between my thighs…he says I’m the sweetest he’s ever tasted,” I fire back.
Holly looks astonished, and she floods bright red, her eyes glittering angrily.
“I changed my mind, let’s play another game,” Tiffany interjects frantically but it’s too late.
“Did he tell you he proposed to me in bed?” Holly sneers at me. “That’s right, I fucked him so good he asked me to marry him.”
I grab the pitcher of water on the table. “Cool off bitch!” I shout before throwing it on Holly’s smug face.
“You low-class whore!” Holly shrieks.
Tiffany stands up, red-faced, as Danielle helps her witch of a friend dry off.
