by Shen, L. J.
Our Post-it Notes.
I’d grown to not completely hate all of that. Which was more than I could say about my interactions with most people.
“Are you okay?” Mad finally winced when we were at the stairway to her apartment building. The entire journey had been silent. Of course I was fucking okay. Everything was fine. The only thing that bothered me (remotely) was the idea of Ethan hopping up these stairs tomorrow after his half marathon. How he was going to fuck her. Bury himself in her sweet, warm body, which always smelled of freshly baked goods and flowers, and fuck. I started imagining her doing all the things she’d done with me. The vein in my forehead was ready to pop.
Mad surprised me by taking my hand, squeezing it in both her small palms.
“I want to tell you that it gets better, but it really doesn’t. The only good thing about this situation is that experiencing the death of someone close heightens your senses.”
“Heightens my senses?” I asked sardonically, feeling my nostrils flare. I’d once eaten an ortolan while covering my head with a napkin to heighten my senses. My senses were higher than the Empire State Building. They didn’t need a pick-me-up.
Madison brushed her thumb along my palm, making a shiver roll down my spine. “Death is no longer an obscure idea. It is real and it is waiting, so you grab life by the balls. When you go through the horror of seeing someone you love die and still manage to wake up the next day to tie your shoelaces, to shove a tasteless breakfast down your throat, to breathe, you realize survival trumps tragedy. Always. It’s a primal instinct.”
I watched our entwined fingers curiously, realizing we hadn’t held hands while we were together. Madison had tried. Once, a couple of weeks into our hookup. I swiftly untangled myself the first chance I got. She hadn’t tried since.
Her fingers were slim and tan. Mine long and white and comically large against hers. Yin and yang.
“How did you concentrate on anything other than your mother dying?” I asked gruffly.
She smiled up at me, her eyes shining with fat tears. “I didn’t. I faked it till I made it.”
I bowed my head down, plastering my forehead to hers, breathing her in. I closed my eyes. We both knew there was not an ounce of romance in that moment. It was a pure this-planet-is-crazy-and-the-human-condition-is-trash moment. It was an end-of-the-world moment, and there wasn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.
Our hairs touched, and I felt goose bumps on both our arms wherever we touched. I didn’t want to let her go but knew with every fiber of my body that I should.
For her.
For me.
I couldn’t pinpoint when, exactly, it turned into a hug, but before I knew what was happening, she was leaning into me, and I was leaning into her, and we were swaying in place like two drunks in a sea of summer lights.
She looked up, and her smile was so sad I wanted to wipe it off her face with a kiss.
“You’re brave,” she whispered. “I know you are.”
She knew I was? I didn’t know why, but that made me angry.
“I just wanted to . . . ,” I started, the words dying inside my throat.
Fuck you one last time? Know if you really are having sex with that idiot? Burn down a pediatric practice?
In the end, I didn’t say anything. Just wondered, why couldn’t she be like me? Like Layla? Why couldn’t she want fun and casual and un-fucking-complicated?
“Goodbye, Chase.” She squeezed my hand one last time. She forgot to give me back the engagement ring. I didn’t ask her for it, because (a) I didn’t care about the damn ring, and (b) I knew she’d have to contact me again in order to return it. For all her faults, Madison was the furthest thing from a gold digger I’d ever met.
I leaned down and kissed her temple, letting my lips hover there. She took a step back and went inside.
I watched her disappearing behind her building door.
She kept glancing back.
I kept thinking she’d make a U-turn, like in the stupid movies she’d always tried to convince me to watch. Run back out, jump into my arms. We’d kiss. It would rain (even though it was summer). I’d hoist her up in the air, and she’d wrap her legs around my waist, and we’d go upstairs and make love, fade-to-black-style.
But after a few seconds of staring at me through the glass window of her entrance door, she shook her head and took the second flight of stairs.
I turned around and stumbled back home by foot, pressing my hand against my face, trying to breathe her in from the time she’d rubbed my fingers against her collarbone in the elevator.
Her scent was gone.
CHAPTER TEN
MADDIE
September 1, 2002
Dear Maddie,
Fun fact: The dandelion flower opens up in the morning to greet the sun and closes in the evening to go to bed. It is the only flower to “grow old.” When you were younger, I took you to the park every day. Do you remember, Maddie? We used to look at dandelions and try to determine which ones would turn white and frail first. When they finally did, we’d pick them and blow them. They’d dance in the wind like snowflakes, and you’d chase them and laugh.
I told you it was okay to pick up dandelions and blow on them, because we spread their seeds. Each dandelion that died was responsible for the birth of a dozen like it!
There is a twisted, jagged beauty to the ending of life. It is a bittersweet reminder that it happened.
Seize the moment.
Every moment.
Until we meet again.
Love,
Mom. x
Three Chase-free days had passed.
Three days without Post-it Notes.
Three days where Chase got in, took Daisy, got out, and was out of my hair, just like I’d begged him to be since he’d walked back into my life.
Three days in which Ethan and I were too busy—me with finishing a few sketches that were due by the end of the week, him with his post (half!) marathon rituals. Our official consummation date was postponed, since Ethan needed to sit in a bath full of ice and write a five-thousand-word post in his blog about the medical merits of ice baths (which he sent to me; I skimmed). I tried convincing myself that it was a good thing we didn’t try to have sex the day his muscles were aching and I was still mulling over every single minute from that dinner night with Chase. I was especially bothered by Hug-Gate. I tried to assure myself that nobody thought anything of two adults hugging outside a pediatric clinic. It sounded completely platonic, but the fact that Chase had looked like he was about to maim someone with a butter knife at the table, paired with Julian’s insanely sharp instincts, meant that I was still worried we were uncovered. If that could cause Ronan to faint, God only knew what could happen if he found out the truth.
Ethan and I made plans to hang out on Tuesday. Ethan suggested he bring Chinese food and I bring the “right mood.” I tried to muster every ounce of excitement for our evening plans while I was at work.
I found a romantic-songs playlist on iTunes, shoved my AirPods on, and bobbed my head to some Peter Gabriel and Snow Patrol. I planned on putting on soft music on my old record player, maybe scattering some flowers around the house.
I was working on my drawing board, outlining a simple dress for our Mother of the Bride fall collection (I hated working on this collection; it was a painful reminder I didn’t have a mother), when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned around, fully prepared to see a DoorDash delivery guy holding a paper bag with my lunch. Or maybe Nina scowling at me and telling me to keep the music down on my AirPods. But I nearly fell off my stool when I saw Katie Black standing in front of me, waving at me with an apologetic smile.
“Hi!” I said too loudly, wobbling up to my feet. Flustered didn’t begin to cover what I was feeling. Technically, I could see why she’d be here. She thought we were soon to be sisters-in-law. In practice, I knew my colleagues were going to ask a lot of questions if they saw us together. Namely, Nina, who was alread
y peeking over her shoulder, trying to figure out what Katie freaking Black was doing talking to me.
I’d managed to keep my six-month relationship with Chase a complete secret while we were dating. Knew people would have a field day if they knew I was sleeping with the billionaire from the top floor. The one who owned the department store that kept our business alive. The irony of getting caught dating a man I hadn’t really dated six months after we’d broken up wasn’t lost on me.
“Hi. Hello. Hola.” Katie waved again, her blush deepening. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. I thought . . . well, I normally take my lunch at the office, but one of my meetings got canceled, and I thought it’d be a good idea if you and I maybe spent some time together. You know, just so . . .” She trailed off, looking at the ceiling and chuckling to herself, mortified.
“Yes!” I said too brightly, eager to get her out of the studio, fast. I patted my chair for my jacket before remembering it was a thousand degrees outside and I hadn’t brought one with me this morning. I dragged her to the elevators. Physically pushed her in their direction. “What a great idea. I’m starving. Where do you want to eat?”
“La Table?” She stared at me with a mixture of surprise and worry, hoisting her Balmain bag over her shoulder. La Table was a $300-per-plate, fixed-price French restaurant under our building. It was reservations only (unless your last name was Black or Murdoch), which meant that I was in no risk of bumping into any of my colleagues. It also meant I was going to shell out enough money to pay a whole week’s rent because of Chase’s stupid lie, but as with Daisy’s vet, I was fully prepared to send him the bill for this.
The elevator slid open, and Sven appeared. He looked at me in question.
“Hi. No questions, please. Bye.” I all but shoved Katie inside while he stepped outside. Katie opened her mouth to ask me what was going on, but I beat her to it.
“So how was the marathon?” I asked cheerfully.
“Half marathon,” she corrected (she and Ethan would get along; I inwardly smiled). “And it was really good, actually. I had fun, and we raised a lot of money for charity. I’m sure Chase told you he donated three hundred thousand dollars to sponsor me.”
I almost choked on my saliva. He’d done that? I had no idea. I always thought Chase would be the kind of guy to support the cause of burning down rain forests and wearing fur. He seemed so infuriatingly soulless. Even when we’d been together, there was a shell of something dark, made out of steel and misanthropy, I couldn’t quite get past. I nodded dutifully, still playing my role as a fiancée.
“Sure. Yes. Totally.”
One affirmative is enough, Maddie.
We got out of the elevator. I asked her how Ronan was doing (not good), then complimented her on completing the half marathon. She told me she was planning on running a full marathon next year. Then asked why I wasn’t wearing my engagement ring.
“I’d really prefer not to make a big deal out of it.” I felt myself blushing. I mean, that, and the fact I wasn’t actually engaged to her brother. Take your pick. Panic alarms rang through my body. It felt so completely, unbelievably shitty to lie.
“Why? He’s not technically your boss. You know that, right?”
“I do, I do.” I wasn’t worried Chase would fire or demote me. I was worried he’d detonate my heart into miniscule pieces. “I still think it might rub people the wrong way, you know? Just because it’s a sister company and I don’t report to Chase doesn’t mean that it smells kosher.”
“Hmm,” Katie replied. It was a good time to change the subject before my head exploded from overblushing.
“I really like your dress,” I chirped. It was a brown knee-length number. Stern but really elegant.
Katie let out a surprised laugh. “I dress horribly. I want to blend in with everything.”
“Why?” I wondered. Obviously, I had the exact opposite problem.
“Because I don’t like to be seen. It’s a part of my anxiety problem. I don’t have the same confidence Julian and Chase seem to have been born with. I always think to myself, the first thing people see when they meet me is that I come from money and my dad gave me a kick-ass job because he had to.”
“He wouldn’t keep you if you sucked. I know that much about Ronan.” I shook my head as we strolled out of the building. “And confidence is like a house. You build it brick by brick. Each brick may seem insignificant, but when you take a step back after a while, you realize you’ve made a lot of progress.” Mom told me that. “Dressing confidently is the first step.”
“We should go shopping together sometime. You can help me out,” Katie suggested, biting down on her lip as we entered the restaurant. I was about to answer when the maître d’ greeted us, seating us at a prime table by the window. Mistaking my silence for rejection, Katie cast her eyes down at her menu, her shaky fingers fluttering over her neck.
“I would love that, Katie,” I said. “Although I’m not sure your brother is going to approve. He always taunts me about my clothes.”
“That’s just his version of pulling at your pigtails.” She laughed, taking a sip of her water. “You must know how much he adores you. He thinks you’re gorgeous.”
He does? It was not far fetched to think Chase found me attractive—he had dated me for a while—but he rarely ever commented about my looks, unless it was to point out how awful my fashion sense was.
“Sometimes I think he’d like me to look more put together,” I mused about my fake relationship with my fake fiancé to my fake almost sister-in-law. I had no idea what made me say that. It wasn’t like it mattered.
Katie snorted, looking up from her menu. “I don’t think so at all.”
“You don’t? Someone like Amber seems more fitting.”
I was not so subconsciously baiting Katie for more information, but I knew it wasn’t constructive. The waiter came to take our order. I let Katie order for both of us, mainly because I couldn’t pronounce most of the things on the menu but also because I was too nervous to take a good look at it in the first place. Once the waiter was gone, Katie snapped the napkin open and spread it in her lap. “Well, we all know how that went.”
“How what went?” I pressed.
Stop, Maddie, stop.
“Chase and Amber.”
There was a Chase and Amber? And we all know how it went? Really?
Feeling my pulse punching the side of my neck unpleasantly, I nodded, confirming I knew all about Chase and Amber. Panic climbed up my throat.
“Yeah, they don’t get along,” I finally squeaked. A flashback from the Hamptons ran through my head. Of Amber visiting our room while I’d been in the shower. Hushed voices, followed by an intense silence. They shared a secret. I was sure of it.
“That’s an understatement.” Katie snorted, then chugged San Pellegrino. “Sometimes I’m surprised Mom and Dad accepted her into the family after what she did to him. Then again, they didn’t really have much choice, did they?”
“No,” I agreed, feeling my body coming alive with too many emotions to identify exactly what it was I felt in that moment. Anxiety? Excitement? Anger? “I agree. That . . . that wasn’t nice of Amber.”
What the hell did she do to him?
“Anyway, I’m so happy he found you. I’m going to be honest: I didn’t think he’d ever bounce back from this. Not after things went down. He never had a serious girlfriend after Amber and before you.”
Chase and Amber were dating? But how could that be? She’s with his brother.
“That’s me.” I clinked my overpriced sparkling water glass to hers with a smile. “Full of surprises.”
And lies. And guilt. And probably irritable bowel syndrome, thanks to all the built-up aggression and remorse my body contains.
I was about to try to dig deeper into #chamber (the Chase-and-Amber shipping name I’d made up on the fly), when Katie sprang up to her feet, waving her hand excitedly. I whipped my head backward to see who she was looking at.
Chase.
Making his way to us.
With a cocky, I-dare-you-to-say-anything smile plastered on his face.
He looked so ruthlessly stunning I allowed myself two seconds to appreciate the Chris Hemsworth-ness of him in one of his signature black suits—tall and broad and bigger than life—before I returned to my usual program of being furious with him.
What the hell was he doing here?
“I’m so glad you could make it! Gosh, look at her face. She is surprised.” Katie laughed, mistaking my shock for delight. “We just ordered. Are you hungry?”
“No, I had lunch with a shareholder,” Chase said casually, leaning down to where I sat, grabbing my neck (grabbing my neck!), and planting a firm, hard kiss (!@#^%$!) on my mouth. His lips were on mine. Warm and hard and full of conviction. It was a kiss that said, This is happening, not Thank you for all you did. Have a good life. It was a continuation of something we’d started when I’d found him sitting on my stairway. It was destruction wrapped in a toe-curling moment I wanted to erase from my memory.
It. Was. Perfection.
He leaned back, smirking devilishly at me as he took the seat next to mine, straightening his dress shirt and adjusting his cigar pants as rich men who knew how to dress did. I glared at him, still feeling that close-lipped kiss everywhere. My mouth. My cheeks. My chest. That place under my belly button he knew how to make throb.
“How did the meeting go?” Katie chirped. Chase launched into a rant about something Julian had failed to do and he’d had to clean up on his behalf. I took the opportunity to pluck my phone from my bag and write him a quick message. Yes, I’d been supposed to delete his number right after I’d come back home from dinner on Friday, but I guess I’d forgotten. It wasn’t like Chase was the center of my universe or anything.
Maddie: Did. You. Just. Kiss. Me?!?!
I knew my message would be left unanswered, so I placed my phone in my lap and tucked into my starter, an extra cheesy onion soup. Chase took a breath from his business meeting story, and it was Katie’s turn to tell him about how someone from the marketing department had screwed up so badly they’d had to can the entire fall catalog and start from scratch. Chase’s eyes drifted down, a small grin tugging at his lips as his fingers began to fly across the screen of his phone.
