“I bet she would have planned great vacations for you,” I said quietly. I set down my glass of wine and reached over to squeeze his hand. He didn’t let mine go though, when I went to pull back. Instead, he rose in his seat and tugged me up, too. We kissed across the small bistro table. A warm, heady kiss that was sweeter than the dessert.After we sat back down, I rearranged my napkin in my lap and said in my own carefully casual way, “Maybe one day I can plan a vacation for all three of us.”Aiden shot me a grin. He looked almost normal again, though the fire was still simmering in his eyes. “Maybe,” he agreed. “I guess you two should meet before we fly off to the Bahamas together.”“It’s only fair,” I agreed. “I mean, you do knowmyparents.” I held my breath until Aiden laughed. We were getting better, but the subject of my parentage was still loaded. “I do want you to meet my mom,” he said, sliding his credit card into the bill holder and pushing the last of the dessert closer to me
AIDENI had to tell Jack. I could tell the secrecy was beginning to gnaw at Layla. She was right–there was a point when it had been fun. Clandestine. Now I just wanted to be able to take her out to dinner on our side of town without fear of who we might run into. I wanted to think about our future together without the threat of Jack’s reaction overshadowing it.The problem was, I didn’t know how. The other problem was, the person I normally would have asked for advice was Jack himself. Maureen was my back up, but I couldn’t go to her either. So that was why I found myself telling Carl, my mentee, about it.I don’t know how it came up. It sure as hell wasn’t like he asked,hey man, how’s your love life?Strangely, Carl listened. When I was done, he said, “That’s a real fucking pickle, rich man. What are you going to do about it?” His voice was its usual mixture of disdain and sarcasm, but I sensed that he was genuinely interested.“Hell if I know,” I muttered. I was already regretting t
LAYLAI didn’t know what was up with me, but I was determined not to let it ruin my first trip with Aiden. Maybe it was just an extended work trip where we would be up to our old tricks in a new city, but it was still ourfirst vacation. Besides, whatever was going on with me wasn’t like any cold or flu or food poisoning or allergic reaction I’d ever had. It was waves of nausea that struck at strange times, peaked violently after about half an hour, and left me tired but functional for the rest of the day. For the most part, I could hide it from Aiden. He was busy doing a week’s worth of work in two and a half so we could leave for New York after work on Wednesday.Because he was so busy, I was home more, and it was Liv who caught me dry heaving in the bathroom one afternoon.“Whoa,” she said, gingerly placing her hand on my back as if she were considering rubbing it. She changed her mind at a particularly violent retching sound that, as usual, produced nothing. Backing into the doorwa
* * *On Wednesday evening, I left the office before Aiden and drove straight to his place. I was relieved that I’d gotten my daily run in with nausea done around lunchtime. In his apartment, I made sure I’d thrown in the last few things I needed for the trip and then made myself a cup of coffee. I didn’t usually drink it past two or three in the afternoon, but lately, I could sleep at the drop of a hat. I’d been miserably tired in our last brand development meeting, and I was worried that Blake had taken my half-closed eyes as some sort of come on.He wasn’t happy about Aiden coming to the charity ball, either. He tried to play it off, but we could tell that his joke about how surely Aiden had more important things to do wasn’t a joke at all. I’d never tell Aiden, but more and more, Blake was starting to give me the creeps. Even though I’d made it perfectly clear my only interest in him was professional, he still let his gaze linger too long on mine. I’d taken to wearing oversized c
AIDENThe hotel room was probably nice. I’m not sure. I barely glanced at it as the porter who had carried our bags up tried to give us the ten-cent tour.“The coffee machine is over here,” he said, and seemed to be about to demonstrate how it worked.“Got it.” I pressed a twenty-dollar bill in his hand. Not so much a tip as a firm suggestion to leave. He took me up on it.“What if I wanted to know how the coffee machine worked?” Layla teased, tilting her head and putting a finger to her mouth.“If you want coffee, I’ll figure it out.” I walked toward her.Her smile widened behind her finger. “I don’t want coffee.”Normally, I liked to take my time with Layla, but over four hours in the car, so close but unable to really touch her, made me impatient. I walked her backward until she came up against the dressing table, then lowered my mouth to hers. As always, our connection ignited like wildfire, a fusion of emotions and desire that had been building for weeks. Our lips met, and time s
LAYLAI woke up in the night, the nausea working its way up from my toes to my throat. Not wanting to wake Aiden, I transferred my weight from the mattress to the floor in painfully slow increments, then tiptoed to the bathroom. The cool marble tiles felt delicious as I sank down onto them, like they were pulling whatever this was out of my body through my pores. And then the nausea regrouped and surged its way up from my abdomen to my throat.Half an hour later, when it had finally subsided, I splashed water on my face and made my way back to bed. I could tell by Aiden’s deep, even breathing that he hadn’t been disturbed by my exit from our bed. I was glad, but I was also disappointed. My heart was beating triple time, and I wanted to slide up against him and feel his strong arm curl around me.Are you sure he’s as serious as you are?I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and willed Liv to get out of my head. In just a few hours, it would be morning, and I had the perfect day planned for u
AIDENIwatched Layla get ready, even though she kept making faces at me in the mirror and telling me to go watch TV or something. I couldn’t help it. She was always beautiful, but as she did her hair and makeup and slid into the dress that fit her like a second skin, she transformed into something ethereally sexy.“Ethereally sexy,” she repeated with a laugh when I told her so. “I don’t think those two words were meant to go together.”“Lots of things aren’tsupposedto go together.” I wrapped my arms around her. “But sometimes they work anyway, right?”Her smile softened. “Right.”I wanted to tell her then that I’d heard everything she said earlier–about coming back at Christmas, about telling her family. I hadn’t said anything because the prospect of telling Jack twisted my guts out of shape, but we were on the same page. More and more, being unable to tell the world that I was in love with Layla Davis felt worse than what I imagined Jack’s reaction would be.“I love you,” I murmured
LAYLAIf I hadn’t felt Blake’s eyes on me like leeches, I would have been impressed by the event. The ballroom was beautifully appointed with gilt and crystal chandeliers, plush velvet settees, and a dance floor that gleamed under the biggest chandelier of all, the one suspended just in front of the stage by swooping, glittering ligatures. A string quartet was playing a mix of classical and pop.I wanted to just dance with Aiden and forget why we were here, but that wasn’t an option. It seemed that just standing beside him, taking on the brunt of the shop talk together, wasn’t even an option. Somehow, he always ended up embedded in conversation with someone else. And increasingly, I ended up in conversation with Blake.And only Blake.“Let’s dance,” he urged.I laughed awkwardly, stalling for time. The first time he asked, I’d made the excuse that no one else was dancing. That had changed though. Seven or eight couples were moving across the floor in time to Sia’s “Chandelier.” “I don
Whitney“What is it?”I whisper into my pillow.The doorbell ring continues. Ever since Dad found out about me and Maddox, he’s been trying way too hard to parent.I have to tell him to stop with these visits. He can text like a normal person, or call like a boomer. But, unannounced visits? Those are too much.I haven’t felt like seeing anyone, anyway. Ever since Maddox broke up with me, I’ve been holing up in my home whenever I get a chance. It’s like his exit from my life turned off a light inside of me, one I’m not sure when will flick on again. I miss him so much.I rush to the bathroom, brush my teeth then splash some water on my face. The doorbell rings again, but I take my time putting my hair in a ponytail. What could be so important?Dad has already apologized for butting in my business and twisting Maddox’s arm to break up with me. While I still think that was a mistake, it was one I understood. He wanted what he thought was best for me. Fine, I get it.What I don’t get is ho
MaddoxI’m goingthrough the latest reports when Charles walks into my office. Ever since the day we talked in the conference room, a week ago, things have been crazy.The post went up and it had enough engagement for a few different local gossip sites to contact me about it, but I followed Whitney’s recommendation and ignored them. Today my restaurant is full, and the manager on duty told me last night the club had to hire last minute extra security to handle the high traffic.Whitney was right.Dan Walters hasn’t released any statement, because the bastard knows if he says something to try to sound like the wronged party, I can tell the media the truth. A scumbag like him has more skeletons in his closet than he cares to admit, I bet.So everyone wins.Well, not everyone.I haven’t seen Whitney. I’ve communicated via Astrid, but every day that goes by makes me more aware of the big mistake I’ve made.I got divorced once, and even though it was the right decision, it still broke me. B
Maddox“What do you mean we need to talk?” I ask Astrid, who’s standing in front of me, in the middle of my office.“Something came up and I just wanted to make everyone aware and come up with a plan. So I have Whitney and Charles at the conference room, and if you can join us that’ll be great.”“Huh, okay.” It’s been two days since I last saw Whitney, and seeing her so soon makes my heart flip in my chest.Then the realization her father will be there with us is like a glacial bucket of water poured all over me, without any warning. In the last day, Astrid texted me a couple of times about stuff related to posts, and I had to control myself not to ask how Whitney was doing.I was a jerk.I was a prick.In the end, though, the right decisions are the hard ones.Doesn’t feel right in my heart, or even in my head if I’m being honest. But it felt right to her father, a man I’ve always admired and who’s been there for me. Besides, what if he has a point? Just because I want her and she wa
WhitneyThe insistent doorbell ring startles me out of sleep.Yawning, I swing a leg over the other, dragging my way out of the bed.I probably got maybe two hours of sleep. It took me forever to close my eyes last night, after the heartbreak Maddox put me through. I was restless, fidgety, and devastated. All the words he told me about falling for me meant nothing.If he was really invested, he wouldn’t use the first obstacle to dip out.It was my dad, but what else could it have been? Would he have used just a different excuse later on?A part of me wants to believe he has strong feelings for me, butdoesn’t wantto have them. He acted like he succumbed to it, but maybe he’s still fighting it. This isn’t a fight I can do for him.I’m aware of my love. But his? He has to own it.Sighing, I run into the bathroom, wash my eyes quickly. They’re still a bit puffy from all the late-night crying, but the doorbell keeps reminding me there’s someone out there who’s probably not a mail carrier d
She fishes her phone from her pocket. “Do you want to schedule a post about hmmm, the pictures you were tagged on?”“No. I couldn’t care less at this point. I wasn’t doing anything illegal. I was on a date with my boyfriend.”She puts her phone back in her pocket, then looks at me with a flicker of surprise in her blue eyes. “Boyfriend? Thisisa soap opera. I usually don’t enjoy them, but it’s different when you know the main characters.”I roll my eyes. I bet I’d enjoy it too if I wasn’t one of the main characters. “Talk to you tomorrow, Astrid,” I say, and turn around. I beeline to his table, shoulders straight and heart pumping its way up my throat.“Whitney,” he says when I slide into the booth and sit across from him.“What happened with Dan?” I ask, the professional in me not wanting personal things to take priority. Even if my nerves are pulsing through invisible knots right now. I keep my hand under the table, tapping my fingers on my lap, fidgeting.A flash of anger sparks in
WhitneyI walk into the club,and the first thing I see is Astrid on the corner. Why didn’t she text me back?I dash over to her, my gaze scanning for signs of Dan and Maddox, but because there are a few more patrons than usual, and I can’t find either. Thank goodness for Astrid’s hair color and bold fashion choices making her easy to find in a crowd.“What’s up?” I ask her.She peels her gaze from her phone then tilts her head at me. “Did you see your dad as you walked in? He just left.”My dad? I thought he was with his team on the opposite side of the property. Busy. “No.”“Maybe he took the other exit… the emergency one that leads right out of the hotel.”My shoulders sag. Shit. Does my dad already know? I thought I’d buy some time, at least a couple of hours until he found out. I need to get to Maddox first, before Dad talks to him. Or maybe I’m too late already. Apprehension sweeps over me. I stand in front of her, finding it hard to sit, my body restless. “What’s going on?”“Wel
He’s a coward.Anger rises in me again, and I reach my drink and take it to my lips.I’m enjoying it when I see Charles walk up to me. He’s told me he’d be working with his team until late on a small gathering they’re throwing the next day for people of the trade. I wave at him, and he comes to my table with a determined expression, and long strides like he knows what he’s looking for. Who he’s looking for.My gut clenches. Something isn’t right.Was Dan an ass to him too, on the way back? Did Dan say anything bad about Whitney?Or did a bastard like me do something bad to Whitney?Like fuck her, again and again? I feel color draining from my face, and when Charles gets on the table with a disappointed look on his face, I already know it.“You jerk! I trusted you all those years. My daughter, really?” Charles says, flushed.My throat is dry and tight.Somehow he found out, and denying it will only make him angrier.Guilt crawls its way into my chest, and it’s hard to breathe. How can I
Maddox“And this is where guests and locals come for drinks and music,” I say, gesturing as we emerge into the club. I see quite a few more patrons than the past few weeks, which shows me that Whitney’s efforts have worked. We’ve had more visitors and increased sales. Always a plus.I’d be a lot happier if it weren’t for the company.My body is still stiff, as I had to go through an entire dinner with Dan Walters who happens to be almost as annoying as he is misogynistic. I guess it’s been a while since I last sat through a meal with the guy. We’re not friends, and I’ve met him in social events and basically small talked.I want to give him the benefit of the doubt and say maybe the reason why he’s been talking about women nonstop and not under the best light is because of his divorce. Maybe he’s broken, and feels more powerful if he’s bragging about all the pussy he’s getting.But the cynical part of me knows better.This guy is a certified douchebag, and I hope Astrid can get a good
WhitneyI strideinto the hotel lobby.Right now, Dan Walters the politician should be having dinner with Maddox. Maybe dinner is already over and they’re touring the hotel. Astrid is there in the club, ready to snap a couple of pictures as planned, and then send it to a gossip columnist friend of ours.If this was another client, I wouldn’t be here. My presence isn’t required since Astrid is here, as per her text.But I am shamelessly using every excuse in the book to be around Maddox, to see him more often, to spend more time with him.Ever since our ax throwing date, I can’t stop thinking about how far we’ve come. From him avoiding me for years to hinting about having children together one day. Who would have thought?A ball of joy rolls inside me, like a bowling ball running down the lane. Striking out.I add a little bit more pep to my step, and my goal is to pass by the restaurant and see them without introducing myself. But before I make it there, I almost bump into them, with b