by Portia Moore
I stand here, frozen with indecision, suddenly very aware of how responsible I am for someone else.
That I’m going to be responsible for them for a long, long time.
And right then, in the middle of rush hour, I get sick for the first time. Teetering in my professional high-heeled pumps, I stumble to the nearest trashcan and vomit into it, gripping the sides as I hope my mascara doesn’t run. I’m sure everyone around me is completely disgusted.
I give up and hail a cab. I’m already going to be late.
I haven’t even made it to my desk when Jackson finds me, stopping me halfway down the main hall. “Madison, we have to talk,” he says anxiously, and I see that his face looks slightly pinched around the edges. Much like mine does right now, I imagine. Although his can’t possibly be for the same reason.
He peers at me. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”
“Just a little under the weather,” I tell him. “I’ll be fine. What’s going on?”
“Just come with me to my office, please.”
God I don’t need this today. I follow him to his office, trying to match his quick pace despite my visible exhaustion, and he ushers me inside, immediately closing the door.
When he turns to face me, his expression is drawn. “We have a problem, Madison.”
I stare at him, sinking into the nearest chair. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” he says flatly, and my stomach drops. I think I might be sick—and not because I’m pregnant.
“Sit down and tell me what’s going on,” I say, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.
He sinks into the leather chair opposite me and sighs, running his hands through his hair.
What the hell is going on?
“Something happened Friday night,” he says tiredly. “I was working late on a new account. I guess Alyssa stayed late too, because about ten, after the office was totally empty, she walked into my office wearing this tight black skirt and her shirt unbuttoned almost down to her bra.”
Shit!
What the fuck Alyssa!
Anger and disappointment course through me. I thought after her mom telling us about how her and Jackson met it would calm her little crush down.
“I acted like I didn’t notice of course,” Jackson continues. “That would be an HR nightmare, and I figured if she came in during the workday actually dressed like that, I would reprimand her then. Next thing I know, she’s bending over the desk so that I can see all the way down her shirt, asking if I need any help with anything.”
“What did you do?”
He rubs a hand over his face, shaking his head. “I told her no, of course. Madison, I know I’ve done some shit, but sleeping with my son’s sister, is a little much even for me.”
“I didn’t mean…” I sigh. “I didn’t think you would take Alyssa up on it. I just wanted to know how you handled it.”
“I told her that she could go home, that it was just my own work that needed finishing and she was done for the day. I thought she would take the hint, but she just came around the desk and stood next to me, and asked if there was anything else I needed help with, really suggestively. I told her no again, that I was fine…and that’s when it got really bad.”
“Fuck,” I whisper.
“Yeah, that’s what she tried to do.” Jackson laughs grimly at his own callous humor. “She grabbed my desk chair, turned it to face her, and knelt down in between my legs. Ran her hand over my…”
“Jackson, I get the idea.”
“Right.” He clears his throat. “She asked again if I was sure while she started unbuttoning her shirt, and that was when I knew she was going to need a much firmer no than I’d already given her.”
“Well what did you do after that?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even. But I’m scared now. Really scared.
“Please tell me you’re not still wondering if I actually fucked her.”
“No,” I assure him quickly. “I don’t think you would do that.”
“I grabbed her elbow and got her up on her feet, told her to button up her shirt and that everything she was doing was inappropriate, and could get her fired. I assured her that I wouldn’t fire her over it, not this time, but that it couldn’t happen again or I would have no choice.”
I feel a newfound respect for Jackson. I don’t honestly think he would ever have crossed that line—that would have destroyed his relationship with Alex even more than the truth about us would…there could never be any excuse, any I didn’t know what I was doing. But I know how men can be. “I’m guessing she didn’t take it very well?”
Jackson slumps in his seat. “That’s putting it mildly. She told me that I’d humiliated her, and she was going to do the same to me. That if I wouldn’t fuck her, I could damn well pay her, and that she wanted a hundred thousand dollars, or she would tell Alex about the two of us. Me and you,” he clarifies, as if I didn’t already get the gist of it. His face is turning paler than ever as he speaks. Then his eyes lock on mine and I swallow hard.
“Did you say anything…I know she saw us but that could be explained…” He trails off desperately and my heart sinks so far in my stomach it probably is chilling with the baby there. I look down guiltily.
“Madison you didn’t!” he groans.
“I didn’t say it was us. I was drunk and—”
“It doesn’t matter now,” he cuts me off, covering his face with his hands. Tears are in my eyes. This is happening, we deserve for this to happen.
“We’ve got to make sure she doesn’t say anything, Madison. I don’t give a good goddamn about the money, but if she tells Alex, it will ruin both of our lives.”
“We don’t even know if giving her the money will do anything at all to stop her from telling. She might take it and tell him anyway,” I tell him quietly.
“We can’t just not do anything,” he says loudly, desperately. I know in this moment how much, despite his actions, he loves his family.
“I don’t know if we could keep it a secret forever,” I whisper. “Something like this was bound to happen eventually.”
Jackson stares at me. “Madison, if she tells Alex, it will destroy everything that I’ve worked so hard to rebuild with my family. You asked me if I could make things work with Cassandra? I damn well won’t be able to if she knows about you and me. She could forgive me if it was anyone else but you, but…. Alex might have accepted the truth months ago, but now you’ve kept the secret too long. We’ve both lied to him. He won’t forgive that.”
I know he’s right.
Goddamn it, I know it! But I can’t think of how to fix it.
I hate the thought of bribing her. She’s certainly a ballsy little bitch.
“We have to do something,” Jackson says again frantically. He looks so different. Still handsome, but that confidence and self-assuredness he usually wears—the cool, calm, and collected man who I once believed could fix anything, make anything better—is gone. So I bite back my tears deciding I’ll have to be the levelheaded one. “I don’t know what. I thought maybe…maybe you would have some kind of idea.”
The idea of Alyssa telling Alex, especially now, sends a shock of terror through me.
“There’s something else,” I say quietly, “that might prevent her from saying something.”
Jackson brightens a little. “What? What do you have?”
I take a deep, shaky breath. It’s ironic, I think, that Jackson is the first person I tell this to. Before Alex, before my family, before anyone. I hate that I’m sharing this news with him first, of all people. But we’re in this neck-deep together.
“I’m pregnant,” I say quietly. “And I think that maybe if Alyssa knows that, she maybe won’t say anything.”
A series of expressions cross his face. Shock, surprise, joy—maybe at the possibility of Alyssa keeping quiet, or maybe even at the fact that he’s going to have his first grandchild—but then there’s the sadness as he digests the rest of the news, realizing wha
t it means. The microscopic possibility of us ever being together again has died.
“Yes,” he says, his voice almost inaudible. “Yes, I think that could do it.”
What there was between us is long over—but there was something, once. The pain in his face is hard for me to see, and I reach over and touch his hand gently. The memories are still there. They caused me to almost let him kiss me, barely a week ago.
That will never happen again.
“I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” I say, and I mean it. “I haven’t told Alex yet. But I will, when the time is right. I’m pretty sure he’ll want us to have the baby. And I want that too.”
Jackson takes a deep breath, and I can see him sorting through his feelings. His expression is almost wistful when he looks at me, and I don’t know what exactly he’s thinking of. Is he thinking of a future with me that will never happen? Or is he remembering this moment with Kate, and later Cassandra, with the other women he loved who once had his children? I think it’s the latter, and I hope that maybe this can help push him back into Cassandra’s arms. That maybe he can remember that once he felt about her the way he does about me. I feel a burst of optimism that this baby could be what saves all of us.
“I’m happy for you both,” he says softly. “I really am. And if Alyssa will keep the secret I promise you, I’ll never breathe a word of it to anyone. Alex will never know—he never needs to know. All of that, it’s in the past. What we had—” He swallows hard again, and I can see the muscles of his jaw working as he thinks of what to say. “I know it’s over, Madison. I lost my chance. I love my son, and he loves you. The two of you are good for each other, and you’ll be good parents together. I see that. You’ll be the mother of my grandchild—and that’s all you’ll ever be to me. What there was before—I’ll forget about it. I promise. It’ll be in the past for good.”
What was before passes through my thoughts—the ballroom where he met me for the first time, the first passionate, crazy night in his hotel room. Him whisking me away on an insane vacation, spiriting me off to Miami and spoiling me beyond my wildest imagination. He was a fever dream made of luxurious room service and humid nights in a rooftop pool, drunk sex and passionate declarations, and it was never made to last.
What Alex and I have, that’s real. That matters. And I can’t lose it.
It’s as if a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders as I feel that door close between us, one final time, never to be reopened. “I appreciate that,” I say softly. I look at his face, nearly unlined, handsome even as worried and ashen as he currently is.
I can see him remembering those same things as he looks at me, his eyes locking with mine, and the mutual understanding passes between us. A line in the sand, separating then from now.
For the first time since I stormed out of that Miami hotel room, I feel as if we’re on the same side. We want the same thing—Alex’s happiness.
22
I know the best way to deal with her isn’t hostility. But when I walk in the front door of the apartment and see her sitting on the couch, casually painting her nails, it’s hard not to explode on her. She called off sick from work—I’d thought she was actually sick, but it was clear after my conversation with Jackson that that wasn’t the case at all.
“You don’t look all that sick,” I say crisply as the door shuts behind me. I set my purse down on the entryway table.
She looks up, startled, and I see a hint of guilt slide over her face. Good, I think. The nail polish wand hovers in her fingers as she freezes in place, and I look pointedly at it.
“Don’t drip that on the floor.” I walk past her to get a glass of water out of the kitchen, my stomach turning over on itself again. I managed to convince myself to take the subway home, but the smells were especially bad today, and I nearly vomited again. That part of my pregnancy seems to have taken full effect.
When I re-emerge from the kitchen, Alyssa is leaning over the back of the couch with her fingers splayed out to dry, looking at me warily.
I meet her eyes, and we stay that way for several long moments, locked in a stalemate. I have no idea which one of us is going to break first.
“Are you just going to keep glaring at me like that?” Alyssa says, her voice high-pitched and almost whiny. I feel my already thin patience fraying. How could she be here acting like nothing has happened?
“I talked to Jackson today,” I say flatly. “Is there something you want to talk to me about?”
She stays in the apartment rent-free, giving us all the inconvenience of a roommate without the income of one, and Alex has done everything he can to make sure their parents still give her their support. I went to work in that stupid office because Alex wanted me to keep an eye on her. I like working from home. But I get my ass up three days a week and put on heels and go sit in a cubicle. This is beyond what she’s doing to me and Jackson why the hell would she hurt Alex like this!
And now she’s blackmailing me and Jackson because her feelings are hurt, because her brother’s dad doesn’t want to fuck her!
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she huffs, flopping back onto the couch, but I see her flush a bright red.
I walk around to sit down on the far end of the couch, kicking off my heels.
“Alyssa, I talked to Jackson. If you want to tell me your side of it, now is the time.”
She glares at me. “Why? I don’t need to justify anything to you. You slept with Alex’s father! That’s fucking awful! Worse than anything I’ve ever done!” Alyssa’s voice is high and shrill, and she stares at me defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest.
I grit my teeth and let out a long, slow breath, trying to keep my temper in check. “First off, you don’t know what you think you know and don’t act like you’re being the bigger person wanting to tell Alex the truth. You’re mad because Jackson turned you down! This is just revenge, and I want you to think about who you’re going to be hurting before you do this.”
“I know exactly what happened!” she shrieks.
“Oh?” I cock my head sideways. “Please, tell me what you know.”
She narrows her eyes. “Why, so you know how to lie to Alex about it?”
“No,” I say coolly. “So I know what you’ve made up in your head before I explain to you how things really happened.”
“You fucked Alex’s dad and lied to him about it! That’s what happened!”
“You must think I’m an idiot, that I just forgot about what you said that night we went out! I thought maybe you were just drunk but after seeing you together in that office I know something happened with you guys.”
“Alyssa,” I say, slow and measured, emphasizing my words. “I need you to understand this, so listen. The situation with me and Jackson is not what you think.”
She leans back, glaring at me. “I don’t see how it’s not. Maybe you should explain it to me.”
I don’t want to explain a damn thing to her. But I also know I have to stop this before it spins out of control. “What happened between us was a long time ago,” I tell her as calmly as I can manage. “I hadn’t even met Alex yet. I didn’t know Jackson even had a son, much less his name or how old he was.”
“And you had no idea who Alex was?” Alyssa looks at me, her eyes still narrowed.
“No, not a clue,” I confirm. “He was bartending at a beachside bar there. He made me a drink, we flirted. I went back to my hotel with Jackson. I didn’t even get Alex’s name on that trip. While I was there, Jackson and I broke up.”
“So he dumped you?” She sounds almost victorious.
“No,” I say tightly, feeling my temper start to fray at the edges. “I ‘dumped’ him. I found out he was married. My father broke up our family when he cheated on my mother—I would never under any circumstances be part of that knowingly. The minute I found out, even though he begged and pleaded and said he was getting a divorce, I ended it. I went home and refused to see him again.”
; Alyssa frowns. “So how did you meet Alex again, then? If you didn’t know?” Her tone is still defensive, but less angry than before. I have some small hope that I’m starting to get through to her. Her interest is piqued by the story, at least.
“It wouldn’t be believable if it weren’t true,” I say, shaking my head. “I came here to spend some time with Parker and get over Jackson. While I was here I ran into Alex—which seemed insane, since I’d met him before in Miami—and he gave me the reference for the job at the catering company. Everything you know about our relationship happened after that," I emphasize. “I never had any idea that Jackson was his father until I went to Tiffany’s engagement party a few months ago. I was completely, totally blindsided,” I finish.
Alyssa narrows her eyes at me. “And you expect me to believe all that?” Her voice is almost dripping with sarcasm. “That’s the craziest story I’ve ever heard. You have an affair with a married guy, casually meet his son without knowing it, break it off with the married guy, go to a different state completely across the country from where you met the son, and meet the son again, without ever realizing the connection despite months of dating, until a freak family engagement?” She shakes her head.
“It’s the truth I say pleading. I met Jackson before I ever met Alex. I met John and thought he was his dad because Alex never said any differently. I swear I never knew Jackson was Alex’s father until long after Alex and I were together. You know Alex doesn’t have Jacksons last name! It was all a horrible, ridiculous, unintentional mistake.”
Alyssa hesitates.
“I love your brother so much,” I say quietly tears in my eyes. “I have for a long time. I’ve kept the secret in order to not hurt him, Alyssa. Because it doesn’t matter in the end. Things with Jackson were done long before they started with Alex. But I didn’t keep the secret in order to lie.”
Alyssa frowns at me. “So what? I’m just supposed to forget about all of this?”
“There’s something else.” I hesitate, but I know that I have to tell her. “Alyssa, I’m pregnant.”
