Choosing Happy (Madison Square #2) (14 page)

BOOK: Choosing Happy (Madison Square #2)
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Madison watched them, her face a mix of worry and longing. Something was off. She was tense. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

She looked up at me, and I leaned in for a kiss. Panic filled her eyes. She turned her head quickly so I caught her cheek and stepped away from me slightly. I frowned, confused by her sudden withdrawal. She gave me a small smile and I relaxed, dropping my hands to my side. Something was up.

Gran emerged from the kitchen with a large platter of roasted chicken. “Bon appetite,” she said, setting the tray at the center of the table. Cries of, “Happy Birthday,” filled the room as we all took our seats. I pulled out a chair for Madison and waited as she took a seat before taking my seat beside her.

Everyone chatted amongst themselves, and I took the opportunity to find out what was going on. “You okay?” I asked, leaning in close and keeping my voice low.

She smiled and smoothed her napkin down in her lap. “I’m fine,” she said, but I wasn’t convinced.

We dug in, passing around dishes filled with roasted chicken and potatoes, grilled asparagus, and crab stuffed mushroom caps. The food was great, but it felt like lead in my stomach. Whatever was up with Madison was worrying me. She was fine when I left her Saturday morning. We had an amazing night together Friday, but now she was distant, and I couldn’t figure out for the life of me what the hell had changed.

Conversation flowed around the table as we finished up the meal. David was showing Gran pictures of his son, Jackson, and Emily laughed as Drew told her stories from our college days. Madison watched them, a small smile on her face. She seemed to just be enjoying the show.

“How goes the hunt for a caterer?” Millie asked Alex as she took another bite of potato.

“Don’t get her started,” Drew said.

“It’s a complete nightmare. All of the caterer’s in this town want to serve pretentious food with disgusting names like shrimp balls. Seriously, who thinks of this shit?” Alex asked, the frustration clear in her eyes. “I want normal food. Something simple that tastes good.”

Gran cleared her throat. “If only you knew someone who owned a restaurant,” she said, taking a sip of her wine.

“Gran, I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s too much,” Alex protested.

“I have been feeding hundreds of people in this restaurant since you were knee high to a gnat little girl. I can handle one little wedding,” she said, flashing Alex a megawatt smile.

“Really?” Alex asked, her smile brightening. “Are you sure? It’s like a hundred and fifty people.”

Drew coughed and set his glass down hard. “One fifty! Jesus Red, do we even know that many people?”

“You invited your cousins from Seattle, which means I have to invite your aunt’s six kids from California.”

“Yeah, but how does that turn into a hundred and fifty people?”

“Well, when you include their spouses and the kids, it adds up pretty quick,” Millie added while the rest of the women nodded along with her.

“When we get home, we are taking a hard look at that guest list,” Drew said.

“Well, regardless of how many it ends up being, I would love to cater,” Gran said.

Alex clapped her hands together excitedly, and Drew couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face.

I stretched my arm out and let it rest on the back of Madison’s chair. She looked over at me and forced a smile to her face. Her eyes were bright and teary. What the hell? The question must have been written on my face, because she cleared her throat and excused herself, pushing away from the table, and headed for the bathroom.

I stood up and watched as she disappeared down the hall. I debated going after her, but I stared down the hall, frozen.

I sat back down. The table was quiet as they all watched me, waiting for me to…I don’t know, explain, I guess? But I was just as clueless as they were.

“Everything okay?” Millie asked.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Well,” Em said, pushing back from the table. “Who’s ready for some cake?” She took off for the kitchen without waiting for an answer. Gran got Alex talking about possible wedding menus while I continued to stare down the hallway.

Em emerged with the cake glowing bright. Candles lit her face as she made her way back to the table. Madison came back wiping under her eyes and smoothing down her dress. Her eyes were red rimmed and her make-up a little smudged in the corners.

I continued to watch her as she took her seat beside me and everyone else started to sing Happy Birthday. I wanted to say something, do something to find out what was going on with her, but Gran was blowing out her candles, so I pushed it aside and turned my attention back to Gran.

Em passed out pieces of cake, and Madison sat rigid in her chair, her body tense. The polite smile plastered across her face felt like a knife in my chest. I know what her smile looks like, and the forced, almost mechanical expression that she wore told me she wasn’t okay.

Madison took exactly one bite of her cake then stood up. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I have an early meeting tomorrow so I have to be going.”

My frown deepened, and I watched her closely as she said her good-byes. She gave Gran a kiss on the cheek. “Happy birthday,” she said. “Thank you for having me.” Her voice was strained, her polite mask beginning to crack.

Gran looked over at me quickly before turning back to Madison. “You’re leaving so soon?”

“I have to. I’m sorry,” Madison replied.

“Okay,” Gran said “Well, it was lovely to see you, dear. Don’t be a stranger.”

That fake smile returned, and I winced as she turned to head out. I shot to my feet and reached for her elbow. She looked down at my hand wrapped around her arm then up to meet my eyes. I searched the icy blue depths of her eyes, surprised by the panic I found there. What had changed? Why was she running? It hit me like a sledge hammer to the chest. Shit! That’s exactly what she was doing, she was running.

“Let me walk you out,” I said, and she gave me a small shy smile. My chest tightened, and I wanted to grab her and demand she tell me what was wrong. What had I done?

I looked back at my family and caught Drew’s eye. He raised an eyebrow, and I shook my head, turning to follow her out the door.

By the time we reached her car, panic had set in. I was going crazy, trying to figure out where I went wrong. Did I say somethin, or do something to upset her? I’d played the entire night over in my head, but I just couldn’t find the answer.

She turned back to me, and I pulled her close, my lips crashing to hers. I was desperate. I needed to feel her respond to me. I needed to know that whatever was going on in her head was temporary, that everything was still good with us.

She relaxed into me as my lips moved against hers. I sighed in relief and pushed my fingers through her hair, deepening the kiss. She gripped my shirt, pulling me closer, her tongue moving with mine. I dug my fingers into her hips and pulled her tight against me. Hope bloomed in my chest as she melted into the kiss.

I reluctantly pulled away and gave her one more soft kiss before resting my forehead against hers and smiled. “I’ve been dying to do that all night,” I whispered.

She flinched and took a step away from me, leaving me frozen and cold, my arms still reaching out for her. “What’s wrong?” I asked, taking a step forward, but she held out her hand and retreated another step. “Madison?”

She took a deep breath and looked up at me. Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice strained.

“No, you’re not.” I stepped forward and reached for her again. She retreated and stopped me, pressing a hand to my chest. Anger flooded through me, and I ground my teeth to keep from lashing out and saying something I might regret. What the hell? Two seconds ago she was kissing me, melting into my arms, and now she was back to pushing me away?

She sighed. “What am I doing here, Sean?”

“What do you mean?” I asked her. “Gran wanted you here.” I put a hand over the one she had pressed against my chest. “I want you here.”

She looked up at me and I smiled, hoping to bring back that fun, sassy woman that was in there, but there was nothing but sadness in her eyes.

“Sean, I really like you,” she said. “I do.” She paused, and I could hear the
but
coming. I wanted to kiss her again and wipe the hesitation from her mind until nothing was left except the fact that she liked me and I liked her. That’s what mattered. That’s all that mattered.

“But…” I flinched when the word slipped from her lips and she continued. “We agreed to keep this casual. This,” she said, gesturing toward the restaurant, “meeting your friends, your family, that’s not casual.”

My hands dropped to my sides in defeat as the anger won out. “So what, we can have sex, but we can’t hang out?”

“No,” she said, stepping toward me, but this time it was my turn to retreat. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to get too involved with each other’s lives. It’ll just make things complicated when it’s over.”
When it’s over
. The phrase kept repeating in my head. She’d already slapped an expiration date on us before we’d even had a chance to get to know each other. Fuck!

I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t move. I just stood there like an idiot with my mouth hanging open. Yes, we’d only been out a few times, but I was having fun. We were having fun, at least I thought we were. Just yesterday it felt like we were on the same page, and now, once again, I’m the schmuck getting shit on after putting myself out there.

“You said this could be whatever I needed it to be, and I need this to be a fling. I’m just not ready for anything more than that,” she said, shaking her head. “Besides, you should be dating other women, women your own age.” And there it was, the age thing again. Didn’t she see that it was just a fucking number? When we were together, the age difference disappeared. I never thought about it, not even once, but it was obvious that she had.

I swallowed, trying to dislodge the tight knot that had formed in my throat. Fuck! I turned away from her and wiped a hand down my face. I told her this could be whatever she needed because I didn’t want to push her too hard. I wanted her to know I could take it slow, if that’s what she needed, and it just fucking figures that shit would blow up in my face.

I took a deep breath and turned back to face her. I rubbed at the back of my neck, frustrated and hurt, and…fuck, I don’t know. I felt like an idiot, but really, what could I say? She’d been clear she just wanted it to be sex. Clearly the connection I’d felt was one sided.

I looked up at her. “That’s really what you want?” I asked, holding on to a last pathetic shred of hope that she wanted me.

She nodded as tears formed in her eyes. She was full of shit. She was doing this because she thought she had to, not because she wanted to.

“I have to get back,” I said, hooking a thumb over my shoulder. She nodded. “Get home safe.”

I turned and headed back through the door. I passed the table and marched straight into the kitchen, hitting the swinging door so hard it swung back and forth a few times before finally settling. I slammed into the metal prep table and gripped the edge, my knuckles turning white. I hung my head and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I wasn’t ready to face the inquisition that waited for me back in the dining room.

I grabbed a bottle of cooking sherry from the shelf above my head and poured it into a glass on table. It tasted like shit, but I needed a drink.

I heard the door open behind me and sighed as I turned to face whoever was elected to see if I was okay.

Drew stood quietly in the doorway, his head hung and his hands pushed into his pockets. I leaned back against the table and folded my arms across my chest.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.

“What’s to talk about? She was in it for the sex. I’m the pussy who wanted more.”

Drew’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”

I grabbed the bottle of sherry and poured another shot, tossing it down my throat and wincing as it burned its way down. “Yep.”

Drew shook his head and dropped a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, man,” he said.

I set the glass down on the table. “Yeah. Me too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

 

Madison

 

Monday was slammed. I had back to back meetings, and I still needed to put the finishing touches on the contracts for my meeting with Bryan Townsend. I’d hardly left the office all day, and Jeremy was keeping his distance, sensing my foul mood.

I kept telling myself that it was the right thing to do, that Sean was better off without having to deal with me and the complicated mess that was my life, but I felt awful. He looked so hurt.

I checked my phone constantly all day, but there was nothing, no calls or flirty texts from him, just silence. He was at work, like I was. It was not a big deal that I hadn’t heard from him. Hell, it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since I saw him, and really, what did I expect?

I was acting like a child. I picked up my phone for the hundredth time that day, but this time I opened a drawer in my desk, dropped in the phone, and slammed it shut. Out of sight, out of mind.

I’d turned back to the computer when I heard a buzzing sound coming from inside the drawer. I ripped it open, almost tearing it from the desk, and snatched my phone. My heart raced as I tapped the screen to see who it was. My face dropped when I saw it was a text from Michael.

 

Michael: Dinner Thursday at seven work for you?

 

I’d completely forgotten about dinner with Michael and his parents.

 

Madison: Where?

 

Michael: I’ll pick you up we can go together.

 

Madison: I will be coming from work. Just tell me where.

 

Michael: Blue House.

 

Madison: Ok

 

Michael: Looking forward to it, Maddie Bear.

 

I really wished he would stop calling me that. I never liked that nickname when we were married. Why he continued to use it after the divorce, I would never understand.

 

***

 

Tuesday Margot showed up for our usual lunch date. I was on edge. I still hadn’t heard from Sean, and his silence was getting to me. I was irritated and more than a little pissed off. Why did it have to be all or nothing with him? What kind of man turns up his nose at casual sex? The good kind, that’s who. I felt angry and stupid, which only made me angrier.

“What’s with you?” Margot asked, leaning toward me.

“Nothing,” I said without looking up from my salad.

She stayed quiet, which was very out of character for her. When I raised my head, she was sitting back in her chair with her arms folded across her chest, watching me. She pursed her lips and continued staring, waiting for an answer, one I refused to give.

Jeremy came in. He dropped his lunch down on the table and took his seat. “Hello, hello,” he said. He looked at me, then at Margot, then back at me. “Did I just interrupt something here?” he asked, gesturing between us with his fork.

“No,” I said, looking down at my salad.

“Madison was just about to tell me why she’s sulking,” Margot said, never taking her eyes off me.

“Oh, well it’s probably because boy toy hasn’t called,” he said as he dug into his food.

“Tell me again why I haven’t fired you?” I asked, shooting him a glare.

“What?” he asked. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was a secret.”

I dropped my head in my hands and sighed. I was not in the mood for another casual sex lecture curtesy of Margot.

“That’s why you are upset?” she asked. “Didn’t you just see him on Sunday?”

“Yes, but he wasn’t exactly happy with me when I left,” I said, stabbing at a carrot a little too hard.

“Why? Did he not get off or something?” She smirked.

“Jesus, does everything have to be about sex with you?” I asked. “I told him, okay? I told him we weren’t exclusive. Once again I take your advice and it blows up in my face.” I dropped my fork to my plate and sat back in my chair, disgusted with myself, with Margot, just this whole ridiculous situation.

Margot held out her hands in front of her. “Whoa! You think this is my fault? I just told you to be honest with the guy, not piss him off. Don’t put that shit on me.”

I could see Jeremy out of the corner of my eye looking back and forth between us like he was watching a tennis match, or Jerry Springer.

“I wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t slipped him my number and then forced me into going out with him.” Not even I believed what was coming out of my mouth and the look of shock on her face told me I was being ridiculous, but I was upset and angry and looking for someone to blame.

“Are you insane? You came to me. You asked me to help pull you out of the hole your bastard ex left you in. I was trying to help you, and this is the thanks I get!”

“Help me! You had your own agenda, admit it. I was just your latest project.”

“Ladies, please,” Jeremy said, trying his best to calm things down.

Margot and I both turned on him and shouted, “Butt out, Jeremy!”

Jeremy slowly sank down in his seat, regretting his decision to get in the middle of us. Margot and I stared each other down, neither of us wanting to be the final one to break.

“Look, I’m not the enemy here. I just gave you a chance to break out of that cage you’ve been in your whole life. Gave you a chance to actually live for once,” she said, grabbing her bag and getting to her feet. “I’m sorry if it didn’t go the way you expected, but that’s how real life works Madison.” Margot put on her sunglasses and turned quickly, storming from the room.

I sat back in my chair, exhaling loudly. I glanced over at Jeremy, who was cautiously looking in my direction, trying to read my body language.

“What?”

He shook his head. “That was some Real Housewives level drama.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” I said, sounding far bitchier then I intended.

“Okay,” he said, gathering up his and Margot’s lunch. “Far be it from me to defend the DVF diva, but she’s not wrong.” He squeezed my shoulder and headed back to his desk.

He was right. I’d gone way over board. I was stressed about work, about dinner with Michael, and on top of all that I was fighting my feelings for Sean, none of which was Margot’s fault. I needed to apologize, but I decided to let her cool down first. Besides I had a big meeting tonight that I still had to prepare for.

 

***

 

Later that night I walked into Provo for my meeting with Bryan Townsend, the real estate developer who could essentially make or break the housing project I’d been working on for months.

I’d over prepared, as usual, so I felt good about how the meeting would go as I followed the hostess to the table. She led me to a table toward the middle of the room, where a tall, well-dressed man was already seated.

“Mr. Townsend,” I said, smiling and offering him my hand. “Madison Buchanan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He stood and shook my hand with a smile. “The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Buchanan,” he said, checking me out without even an attempt at being subtle.

“It’s Ms. actually, but please call me Madison.”

I appraised him as well, but not quite as thoroughly as he did me. He was older, probably in his mid to late fifties, but very good looking, and he knew it too. His light gray hair was full and styled tastefully. He wore a dark suit with a crisp white shirt and light blue tie that highlighted his eyes.

I smiled and took my seat across from him, setting my briefcase next to me. He stared across the table at me with a wicked grin that years of being a woman in a male dominated profession has taught me meant he was clearly picturing me naked. It did nothing to waver my confidence. He was far from the creepiest client I’d worked with.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he said, signaling for the waiter.

“Scotch neat,” I said, picking up my napkin and dropping it into my lap.

He raised an eyebrow but relayed my drink order to the waiter, who scurried off to the bar. I wasn’t really a fan of drinking during a business meeting, but not ordering a drink would make me look weak.

“So Mr. Townsend,” I started.

He held up a hand to cut me off. “Bryan, please,” he said.

“Bryan, I trust that you have reviewed our proposal. So before we get to the contract, do you have any questions for me?”

“Divorced?” he asked.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, not really sure I’d heard him right.

“Are you divorced?” he asked. “I know it’s none of my business, but earlier I called you Mrs. Buchanan and you corrected me so I’m curious.”

I smiled, not quite sure where this would lead, but to move on, I answered the question. “Yes, I am divorced. I kept my married name for business purposes. I’ve been known as Madison Buchanan for the majority of my career. It didn’t make sense to change it.”

He nodded his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking down into his glass, his jaw tense. After a moment, he seemed to compose himself. He set his glass down on the table, folded his hands in his lap, and focused back on me. “Do you have children?”

Wow, this guy was quick with the personal questions, but as Eric continued to remind me, this deal was huge and I had to do whatever it took to ensure its success. So for now, I’d have to humor him.

“No. No children. Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you have children?

His smile faltered. It would seem that Mr. Townsend was not a fan of having his games turned around on him. “Two,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. He didn’t continue, and I didn’t push.

The conversation, so far, had been strange at best, so I did my best to steer it back toward the business at hand. “The contracts are here,” I said, pulling them from my brief case. “Your attorney has reviewed them and signed off. All we need is your signature, and we are all set.” I slid the contract and a pen over to his side of the table.

“Oh, we have plenty of time for that. Let’s enjoy our dinner,” he said as I took a sip of my drink. “I like to get to know the people I’m getting into bed with,” he said with a grin.

I coughed as the scotch burned its way down the wrong pipe. “I’m sorry?” I asked. No way did he just say that.

He laughed. “It’s something my grandfather used to say when going into business with someone. Of course if that business put him in bed with someone as beautiful as you, it may have taken on more literal meaning,” he said with a wink.

“How…charming,” I said, the sarcasm apparent in my voice. “He give you any more pearls of business wisdom?” I teased. Two could play at this game.

“Let’s see. Always be sure to praise your employees as well as reprimand them. A thank you goes a long way.” I nodded in agreement. “Always keep an extra suit in your office,” he said with a tilt of his head. “You know, just in case. Oh, and never sleep with your secretary.” He leaned forward and whispered, “They know everything.”

“Not nearly as bad as I thought.” I giggled. “He’s right about the secretary thing, though,” I said. He raised a brow as I continued. “They do know everything.”

He laughed and took a sip from his drink. Just then the waiter came over to take our order. I ordered a steak and Caesar salad, again so I wouldn’t look weak, but also I really wanted a steak.

When the waiter left to put in our order, Bryan started his line of questioning again. “So, where are you from, Madison?”

“Raleigh, originally.”

“Home of the Tar Heels.”

“Blue Devils all the way,” I said with a smile.

“Ah yes, I read that you went to Duke.”

I nodded.

“Notre Dame,” he said, gesturing to himself.

“I know. You were prelaw, but chose the MBA program for your graduate.”

“Done your homework, I see,” he said, nodding his head.

We talked a bit about our college experiences, and I laughed as he told me stories of business meetings taking an embarrassing turn. He was charming. I was beginning to relax and actually enjoy myself. It was easy to forget that this was a business dinner.

I didn’t realize how hungry I was, and the food was excellent. I practically devoured my steak. When I looked up from my plate, Bryan was watching me over his drink.

“What?” I asked, taking a sip of water.

“Nothing,” he said, dropping his head. “I enjoy a woman with a healthy appetite.”

Bryan raised his eyes back to mine and smiled. “You know, Madison, I’ve really enjoyed myself tonight.”

“I have as well. These business dinners tend to be pretty dull,” I said, taking a sip of my drink.

Bryan chuckled. “True. Can I ask you a somewhat personal question?”

“Nothing’s stopped you before,” I said.

“Well, we’ve covered your divorce, the fact that you have no kids, and where you went to graduate school. What’s one more?” he said, grinning like he’d won something.

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