Choosing Happy (Madison Square #2) (23 page)

Chapter 21

Madison

A week had passed since Sean showed up in my office. Despite his little announcement that he was not giving up, the week had been relatively quiet. I dove head first into work. Staying late and going in early, even bringing work home to take my mind off the pathetic state of my personal life.

I was staring at an eighty-five page contract and my head was swimming with legal jargon when a thick envelope landed on my desk with a thump.

I looked up at Eric, who loomed over my desk with a sinister smile on his face. I was sure he meant it to be charming, but he always ended up looking like a silent movie villain to me.

“This just arrived for you,” he said.

I picked up the envelope, turning it over in my hand. “What is it?”

“It’s an invitation to the Queen of Hearts Ball,” he replied. “It seems Mr. Townsend will be in town for the event and is in need of a date.”

This was not good news. The Queen of Hearts Ball was my mother’s pet project. It was the highlight of her social calendar, which made the invitation feel like a death sentence.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I said, holding the envelope out to him. “He should ask someone else.”

“Nonsense,” Eric said. “He likes you, Ms. Buchanan. See that he continues to do so. Do I make myself clear?” He dropped his head and raised his brows, looking like my father scolding me for leaving my bike in the driveway.

“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile across my face. “Consider it done.”

He smiled, having once again gotten his way, “That’s my girl.”

He turned and headed for the door, calling, “Wear something fetching,” over his shoulder as he passed Jeremy, who was listening by the door.

I dropped my forehead to my desk and banged it repeatedly on the hard surface, hoping to cause just enough damage so I wouldn’t have to go, but not so much I couldn’t function.

Jeremy cleared his throat, and I lifted my throbbing head to look at him. The wax seal of the invitation stuck to my skin and the envelope came with me, stuck to my forehead.

Jeremy leaned forward. He plucked the invitation from my forehead, fighting back a laugh. “I’ll let his secretary know you’ve accepted,” he said with a snort.

***

After I told Margot about Bryan’s invite to the Ball, she insisted that we forgo our usual Tuesday lunch to go shopping. Which was how I ended up sitting in the brightly lit dressing room in a silk robe with my head in my hands as Margot and the sales girl discussed dress options.

They’d been at it for twenty minutes without once asking for my opinion. Not that I had an opinion, really. The more I thought about the ball, the more I wanted to bail out of it. Mother was not expecting me to attend this year. She actually forbade me from coming, as she was positive I couldn’t find a suitable escort and me going alone would have been an unforgivable embarrassment to her.

Part of me was enjoying the fact that I was going despite her wishes, but my rebellion was only in my head. I knew as soon as she saw my date mother would be over the moon and planning the wedding within seconds of shaking Bryan’s hand.

Margot and the sales girl had just gone into round three of the red vs. black argument when I decided it was time to interrupt.

“Ladies, can we move this along? I have to get back to work.”

Margot waved a dismissive hand at me and went back to her color debate. As it was clear I was not needed or wanted, I got up and sorted through the portable rack of gowns that lined the back wall of the private dressing room. Absently, I flipped through the soft fabrics as I tried to drown out the great color debate going on behind me.

My fingers stopped when I saw it. My mouth dropped as I grasped the hanger and pulled the gown toward me. It was stunning. Soft white silk draped all the way to floor. It had a high neckline and long sleeves, giving a classic Gatsby feel to the gown. The drama came from the back, or the lack thereof. It was completely backless except for a thin string of crystal beads that stretched from shoulder to shoulder and fell down the middle in a long crystal chain. I held the gown gently in my arms as I took in its simple elegance.

I heard a gasp behind me and turned to see Margot behind me, her eyes wide. “You have to try it on,” she whispered.

I smiled, feeling giddy as I hurried behind the curtain to slip into the dress. It fit like a glove. The back fell just above the curve of my butt, and the silky fabric hugged my hips and breasts. The hem flared out just above my knees and brushed softly against my toes. I pulled back the curtain and met Margot’s eyes.

“Son of a bitch!” she said.

I ran my hands down the front of the gown, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Is it bad?”

“Bad? Are you kidding? I’d fuck you in that dress!”

The sales girl coughed, almost choking at Margot’s exclamation.

“You’re not my type,” I said, moving toward the three-way mirror to see the dress for myself.

“Oh please,” she said. “I’m everyone’s type.”

I smiled at her in the mirror, and she blew me a kiss.

I turned my body from left to right, admiring the way it expertly hugged my figure. “This is the dress,” I said.

“Damn straight it’s the dress. Bryan is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”

My smiled faltered a bit, but I caught it before Margot noticed. She had already started in on the sales girl to find shoes and accessories to match.

I stared at the woman reflected back at me, and my mind drifted off as I focused on the feel of the soft fabric beneath my fingertips.

Suddenly I heard a familiar voice in my ear
.

“That’s some dress, beautiful,” he whispered. I could feel his hand slip slowly from my hip across my stomach. I met those gorgeous gray eyes in the mirror as my body relaxed against him. His breath tickled my neck as he spoke. “Bet it would be fun to slip it off of you,” he said, his lips barely brushing against my shoulder. “Watch it slide down your skin and pool at your feet.”

I shivered as he kissed his way back up my neck. When he reached my ear, he sucked the lobe into his hot mouth and pulled me flush against every inch of his very hard body. “Give in to me,” he whispered, his lips against my ear as his hand traveled up my stomach to cup my breast. I dropped my head back to his shoulder with a whimper as his fingertips brushed the silk against my…

“Madison,” Margot said.

Suddenly I was alone, standing in front of the mirror. He was gone. I’d imagined it. I met Margot’s eyes in the mirror, and she raised her brows at me in question. I stood up straight and cleared my throat to get control of myself. My heart pounded in my chest, and I swallowed thickly as I made my way back behind the curtain to change. I hung up the gown, dropped down onto the small chair in the dressing room, and ran my hand down my face. What the hell was wrong with me? I needed a dress to go to a ball with Bryan, and here I was daydreaming about Sean.

I was losing my mind for sure. I shook off the image of Sean from my head and the feel of his lips on my neck and headed out to meet Margot.

I handed her the dress and she studied me, concern lining her face. “You okay?” she asked.

I forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”

***

Thursday night I came home to an incredible smell coming from my kitchen. My mouth watered as I followed the trail of deliciousness. Liam was chopping a tomato, a dish towel tossed over his shoulder. His hands moved quickly as he diced.

“Have I told you that you are my favorite little brother?” I asked, lifting the spoon from the pot of tomato sauce on the stove to steal a taste.

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

Liam had been working a lot in the past few weeks, so I hadn’t seen much of him. I was grateful we would have a chance to at least share a meal together. I missed him.

“How’s the bar?” I asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter as I watched him chop vegetables.

“Good.”

I pushed off the counter to grab a glass from the cabinet and the bottle of wine from the fridge. I poured two glasses and handed one to him. “That’s good,” I said as I settled back against the counter.

“Well,” he said, setting the knife down on the cutting board in front of him. “Jack mentioned something today that got me thinking.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s thinking of selling the bar.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he told me today he’s been thinking more and more about retiring and it may be time to sell.”

“What about Drew and David?” I asked. “Won’t they take over?”

“They both have their own careers.” He shrugged. “Besides, it was Jack’s dream, not theirs. He doesn’t want to burden them.”

“Has he had any offers?”

“A few, but he says he isn’t going to sell to just anyone. It has to be someone who loves the place as much as he does.” Liam took a sip of his wine while absently studying the kitchen wall. I could see the gears as they turned inside his head.

“Why don’t you do it?” I asked.

“Do what?”

“Buy the bar.”

“What?” he scoffed.

“Buy the bar. You love that place. You know it like the back of your hand. You’ve already been running it pretty much on your own for almost a year now. Why not buy it yourself?”

“You’re serious?” he asked.

“Of course I am,” I said as I set my glass down on the counter. I turned to face him. “Liam, working at The Den makes you happy, happier than I have ever seen you. You love that place, and you’re like a son to Jack. He would be over the moon to see you take it over. It would be like keeping it in the family.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have that kind of money. I can come up with maybe a quarter, but that’s it.” He shook his head like the idea was completely ludicrous.

“I can help you,” I said without hesitation.

“What?” He whipped his head toward me, his eyes wide. “No, Maddie.”

“I can help you. I have some money put away and I haven’t even touched my divorce settlement. I can help you with the down payment, and you can get a loan for the rest.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” he said, going back to chopping his vegetables.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” I placed a hand on his arms and he stilled. “I believe in you. You’ve been searching for something to make you happy, a career that you love. This is your chance to make that happen. A chance to own your own business, to make it something special, to be successful in your own right, not in a way that Mom and Dad mandate.”

Liam braced his hands on the edge of the counter and dropped his head, taking in a deep breath before slowly letting it out.

“You really think I can do this?” he asked, finally turning his worried eyes toward me.

“I do.”

We stood in the kitchen, staring at each other as he contemplated my offer. He took a deep breath and ran a hand down his face. He slowly exhaled and watched me closely through his fingers as he thought.

“Well then,” he said. He threw his arms open wide. “I guess we’re buying a bar.”

“We’re buying a bar!” I shouted and wrapped my arms around him. He enveloped me into a hug and swung me in a circle around the kitchen.

Liam and I spent the rest of the night eating and discussing ideas for the business plan. I made a list of contacts to get the ball rolling on a small business loan. Liam was excited, but a little nervous to pitch the idea to Jack. I knew he had nothing to worry about. Liam was the perfect guy to carry on Jack’s legacy.

***

I’d attended the Queen of Hearts Ball several times before the divorce. Since Mother was on the board my presence was mandatory, which meant an evening spent pretending to be the doting dutiful daughter and putting up with Michael’s incessant whining about when we could leave.

Tonight felt different. I was on the arm of an extremely handsome man who’d spent the entire ride there telling me over and over how beautiful I was, causing my face to heat and an uncontrollable smile to take over my lips. Bryan was a true gentleman, which was something I was used to. I’d spent my life surrounded by men who were raised to pull out your chair and open doors, but those things were mostly done out of habit or obligation. Bryan seemed sincere as he offered me his arm to escort me into the room.

Mother had outdone herself this year. The room was beautiful. Deep red roses decorated every available surface. Black table cloths covered the tables that were set with clean white china and crystal stemware. Waiters dressed in black pants and red waistcoats offered hors d’oeuvres and champagne to guests dressed in shades of black, white, and red.

Bryan led us to our table in the center of the room. We took a seat, nodding hello to the other people at our table, all of whom had seen the other side of sixty some time ago. I smiled at the woman to my right, who was in her eighties if she was a day. She clutched her purse to her chest like she was on the wrong side of town instead of an elegant ballroom although she may have been on to something. There was more than a few criminals in this room, so I couldn’t really blame her.