Choosing Happy (Madison Square #2) (25 page)

Chapter 23

Madison

The next week went by relatively quietly. The frequent calls and texts from Sean had come to a screeching halt after the ball. I was grateful for the silence. It gave me a chance to put everything in perspective and really understand what a truly horrible person I’d become. I hated myself for hurting Sean, and I hated myself even more for missing him.

Bryan was a whole different story. He missed the confrontation between Sean and I, he may have been the only one who did, but thankfully the mayor had pulled him aside to try to gain his support for a park clean-up initiative he was trying to get through the city council. Timing had luckily been on my side.

I hadn’t heard from Bryan since, except for the enormous bouquet of red roses he sent to my office. Jeremy announced their arrival by dropping the vase heavily onto my desk. When I glanced up at him, he pursed his lips and muttered, “Mhmm,” on his way out the door.

Jeremy was firmly on team Sean. I, however, was doing my best to avoid the situation entirely. Denial had become my happy place.

I knew that I would have to come clean eventually and tell Bryan the truth about Sean. The tricky part was figuring out how to tell him all the while keeping the housing project, and my career, intact.

***

When I got home, I was surprised to find Liam bent over the dining room table, surrounded by paperwork with his head in his hands. I set my bag down by the door and went to see what he was up to.

“What’s all this?” I picked up a copy of his bank statement from the stacks of paper spread across the table.

Liam sighed and ran his hand down his face. “I’m trying to get all of this paperwork together for the bank.”

“Let me help you.” I pulled out a chair and took a seat.

“Thanks,” he said, ruffling through the paperwork in front of us.

I watched him for a moment as he read. His eyes darted from document to document, and he kept running his fingers through his hair. He looked worried and stressed. His face was tired, and his shoulders were slumped and tense.

“You can do this,” I said, reaching for his hand. “I know you can.”

The corner of his lips twitched in the slightest of smiles, but he was missing the joy of this moment. He was about to be a business owner. He should’ve been celebrating, not sulking in my dining room.

“What’s going on?” I asked, determined to get to the bottom of this.

“What if I fail?” he asked, his voice low.

“You won’t.”

“But what if I do?” Liam looked up at me with those sad eyes I had seen in the mirror so many times over the years. “What if I take over and the bar goes to shit. Not only will I prove Dad right, but I will be letting Jack down.”

I shot to my feet, almost toppling over my chair in the process. “Get up,” I said. Liam looked at me, his brows furrowed and his lips turning down. “Get up!”

He sighed, but did as I asked and rose to his full height, which towered over me. I grabbed a hold of his arms and fixed him with a determined look.

“You can do this,” I said. “Jack loves you and believes in you. If he didn’t then he wouldn’t entrust you with his legacy. I’ve seen your passion for that place. I have seen how much you love that dingy little dive. You will make it yours and you will be successful. Screw what Mom and Dad think,” I said. His eyebrows rose, but my pep talk seemed to be sinking in.

He studied me for a minute before wrapping his meaty arms around me in a tight hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and rested his cheek there. When he pulled away, his eyes seemed brighter and more hopeful, which made me smile. He deserved to have his own life, to be happy, and I knew in my heart that The Den would be that for him.

“Thanks, Maddie,” he said with a smile.

“Anytime. Now, go fix us some dinner while I sort this out.” I waved a hand at the mess of papers scattered across the table.

He cooked and I sorted. Teamwork makes the dream work. I went over the loan applications and explained to him the basics of what he would need to put together a good business plan. The Den was already an established successful business, but Liam had some really great ideas about revamping the food and the drink menu to appeal to a younger, more hip crowd without chasing away his bread and butter regulars.

We talked as we munched on maple bacon mac and cheese. I was in carb heaven or hell, depending on your perspective. Liam’s food was always amazing. He’s never had formal training as a chef other than a few cooking classes here and there, but he wasn’t afraid to try new things and experiment. If I could only get him to apply his confidence in his cooking to running the business then he would be set, but that would come with time.

***

“Pack a bag, little lady,” Eric said as he burst into my office wearing a grin that made him look like a cat-that-ate-the-family canary.

“What?” I asked.

I looked up at Jeremy, who was hovering in the doorway. He shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head, his expression making it clear he was just as much in the dark as I was.

“We’re going to the beach,” Eric said.

I swallowed. “Excuse me,
we
are going to the beach?”

“Yes. Bryan Townsend has invited us to his beach house for the weekend. He insisted, actually,” Eric continued.

“Eric, I don’t think that would be appropriate…”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Kate is coming too. You love Kate,” he said. It was true. His wife Kate was great. Eric didn’t deserve her, but I knew a thing or two about being married to a cheating insufferable asshole.

“Oh, well…”

Eric interrupted me again. “Bryan ordered a car to pick you up here and take you straight to the house Friday afternoon. Kate and I will join you on Saturday.”

“I can just wait and come wit …”

“Nonsense,” he said, waving his hand at me. “Mark has some soccer thing Saturday morning so Kate and I will head down afterward. No reason for you to miss a day at the beach waiting for us.”

He had a point, but it would be a day at the beach alone…with Bryan. This was not good.

“Can I think about it?”

“No need. It’s a done deal. Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing. It’s all been taken care of.”

His condescending tone set my teeth on edge.

“Eric, I don’t think I’m entirely comfort…” I started.

“I said,” he interuppted. His eyes fixed me with a pointed look, letting me know without a shred of doubt that this weekend was mandatory. “It’s a done deal.”

I forced a smile and nodded my head. Dread sat heavy in my stomach. How was I supposed to stay an entire weekend in a house with Sean’s father?

“Wonderful,” he said and headed for the door. “This is gonna be a great trip. I can feel it.”

“Yeah, great,” I mumbled, dropping my head to my desk.

***

Friday afternoon I found myself in a town car on the way to Martha’s Vineyard. I stared out the window, chewing on my nails and growing more nervous with every passing mile marker. To say this weekend had potential for disaster was the understatement of the century.

The car pulled up in front of a modern structure just after eight o’clock. The house was two stories of angular lines and cold, gray concrete. Beams of light lit up the cool gray walls in evenly spaced lines of blue and green.

I stepped out of the car and into the cool evening air. The salty tang on the breeze did nothing to ease my nerves. It was too dark to see the water, but I could hear the roar of the waves as they crashed onto the sand in the distance.

The driver set my bag at my feet, and I smiled and folded a tip into his hand. He nodded his thanks and headed back to the car. I stood in the gravel driveway and took a deep breath, attempting to steel my nerves. Then I headed toward the small set of stairs off to the right.

The entrance to the house was impressive but impersonal. Brushed aluminum railings lined the edge of the concrete walkway, which was lined with up-lit palm trees that made the whole place seem more like the entrance to an office building rather than a home.

The front door was all glass framed by a few inches a light colored wood that seemed so much taller then was necessary. I’m sure even the tallest NBA player could easily pass through with a foot or two to spare.

I was just about to knock when my phone rang. I rummaged through my purse to retrieve it. Finally, I pulled it free and glanced at the screen.

“Bryan? I’m right outside. I was just about to knock.”

“Knocking won’t do you much good, I’m afraid. I’m still at the airport.”

“You are?”

“My flight’s been cancelled. I’m trying to get on another one tonight, but it’s not looking good. It will most likely be tomorrow morning before I can get there.”

“Oh.” I walked back toward the driveway to see if the car was still there which, of course, it wasn’t. “I guess I’ll just call the car to take me back to the city.” I sighed in relief. After spending the entire ride looking for a reason to get out of this weekend, Bryan had served up the perfect excuse on a silver platter.

“No, stay. The code is four two three five. Please make yourself at home. The fridge is stocked. There’s wine in the pantry and scotch in the bar. Stay, enjoy yourself, and I will be there in the morning.” Shit!

“Really, Bryan. It’s not a big deal. I can just…”

“Please, Madison. Stay. I wish I could be there to greet you, but please make yourself at home. I will make this up to you tomorrow, I promise.”

I was already uncomfortable with the idea of spending the weekend in his beach house in the first place, and now I was going to be spending the night in his beach house by myself. At least alone was better than alone with him.

I took a deep breath. “Okay,” I said. I was already there. I guess there was no point in heading all the way back into the city.

“Thank you. Enjoy your night, and I will see you in the morning.”

We said our good-byes and hung up. I headed back to the front door and typed the key code into the panel by the door. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the lock click and the light turn green.

The inside of the house was obviously designed for a bachelor. The house was an open floor plan with everything from the kitchen cabinets to the throw pillows done in various shades of gray. The floors were poured cement polished smooth and gleaming. The walls were a stark, bare white, leaving the wall of windows facing the ocean as the focal point.

I set my bag down by the couch and slid open the thick glass door that opened on to the large back deck. The wind blew my hair away from my face as I gazed into the clear night sky and listened to the gentle roar of the waves just beyond the sand. I could barely make out the white caps of the waves just before they crashed against the shore. This might not be so bad.

I found myself a cozy guest room upstairs. The bed was huge and covered in fluffy white pillows and blankets. I pulled out a pair of cotton pajama pants and my favorite long sleeved t-shirt. The fabric was soft and worn from years of being washed, and the neck was stretched out so it hung off one shoulder. Once I was dressed and comfortable, I headed back downstairs in search of food and booze.

Bryan wasn’t kidding about the fridge being stocked. I hit the jackpot with some fresh cheese, grapes, and thinly sliced prosciutto. I found a nice bottle of red wine and some crackers in the pantry and carried my haul out to the back deck.

I sipped my wine and stuffed myself on cheese and fruit, allowing the sound of the waves to carry the tension from my body back out to sea with them. I was enjoying myself and very relaxed, so much so I was starting to nod off. I willed myself awake long enough to clean up and make it up the stairs before crash landing into the downy softness of the enormous bed in the guest room. I snuggled deep under the covers and was out in no time.

Chapter 24

Sean

I stopped at this little beach bar a few miles from the house. Access to the beach house on Martha’s Vineyard was the one and only perk of this little arrangement with my father.

The bar was empty except for a few drunk college kids and a fisherman named Bud. I tossed back shot after shot of tequila, washing it down with a corona or two as I shot the shit with Bud for a while.

Bud had an eye patch and was missing two fingers on his left hand. We got along great for a while, but as the night went on the tequila brought out the pirate jokes and Bud was less than amused.

The bartender called me a cab and I slurred some vague directions, which luckily the driver seemed to understand enough to get me to the right place. I tossed a twenty through the window and stumbled out of the car.

I shifted my bag on my shoulder. I may have been too drunk to drive, but I wasn’t too drunk to remember my luggage.

I made my way up the stairs. The house was dark, but the glow from the landscape lighting was just bright enough for me to be able to make out the shape of the key pad.

After a few failed attempts, I managed to punch in the key code and open the door. I let my bag fall heavy to the floor and headed to the kitchen.

Pulling open the fridge, I squinted in the bright light as I searched for something. I wasn’t sure what, but I wanted something. Cheese. Cheese was good.

I reached in for the cheese when a guttural cry pierced the silence. “What the…” I slammed the refrigerator door just as a blurry figure knocked me hard to the floor.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, trying to fend off my attacker.

“Sean?”

My eyes snapped open at the sound of her voice. Relief spread through me, followed closely by confusion. “Jesus, Madison. You scared the hell out of me.”

“Me?” she asked. “You’re the one lurking around in the dark.”

“In my house,” I pointed out. “What are you even doing here?”

“I was invited,” she said, lowering the vase I hadn’t even noticed she was holding. Shit, that thing looked like it would’ve hurt. Then her words finally sunk in. She was here for him. She was invited here to spend the weekend with my father.

I sat up, moving her off of me, and got to my feet. “Perfect,” I said. “Just fucking wonderful.”

She got to her feet, putting some distance between us. She bit her lip and refused to meet my eyes. So this was it, I guess. She’d chosen him.

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to ward off the pain spreading through my body.

“I’m going to tell him,” she whispered.

I laughed. “Make sure you tell him the part where I told you I loved you and you took off. He’ll love that.”

I pushed past her and headed straight for the bar.

“That’s not fair,” she said, her voice low.

I laughed, pouring myself several fingers of scotch. “You want to talk about what’s not fair? How about being ordered to a charity event, only to see my father making out with my girl.”

She sighed. “We weren’t making out.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. What did they call it back in your day? Necking?”

Madison flinched, and I immediately regretted my words. It was a low blow. The age difference was a huge thing for her, and I just played right into her biggest insecurity.

I closed my eyes and ground my teeth. I hated the sadness in her voice, and I really hated the fact that I was the one who put it there. My asshole filter was on the fritz and flooded with tequila for the moment. I couldn’t control it. There I was, standing in my father’s beach house, the same father who’d basically blackmailed me into playing the happy family for his clients. I was in no mood to have a mature conversation. I was alternating between pure mind fucking rage and the desperate need to touch her, to feel her skin against mine just one more time.

“You’re acting like I was trying to hurt you,” she said, her voice trembling and thick with tears.

“Maybe you weren’t, but I wouldn’t put it past him.” I drained my glass and set it down on the wet bar.

“You don’t really think that, do you?”

I shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time he’s fucked me over.”

“Sean,” she said as she reached for my arm.

My skin lit from her touch. Warmth spread up my arm. It was too much. I wanted to kiss her, and scream at her, and fuck her until she begged to me to stop, but instead I wrenched my arm away and backed up.

“So, tell me, beautiful. Which do you prefer, the new model,” I said, gesturing down my body like a game show model. “Or the classic?

Her eyes narrowed as angry tears rolled down her cheeks. Her beautiful face twisted into a scowl. She took two steps toward me, closing the distance between us, and slapped me hard across the face. My head snapped to the side on impact, a hot sting spreading like fiery fingers across my cheek.

I turned to face her. Her eyes were bright and full of fire, her breath coming hard and fast as she watched me.

I didn’t think, I just acted. Reaching for her, I pulled her tight against my chest and kissed her hard. I pushed my tongue roughly past her lips and dug my fingers into her hips. I put everything into that kiss—the anger, the frustration, the agony I’ve felt every day since that god damn ball. I wanted her to feel what I felt. I needed her to feel it.

She kissed me back at first, melting into me like she always did as I nipped and tasted her lips. I could feel the moment she started to think. Her body tensed, and she pushed against my shoulders, trying to break free, but I couldn’t let go. She fought me, and I held tight. If this was the last time I would ever feel her lips against mine, I needed to make it count.

With both hands pressed firmly into my chest, she shoved me away, finally succeeding in breaking the kiss. She backed up and held her hands up between us to warn me off. Both of us were breathing heavy, staring at each other, the anger and tension like a thick wall between us.

“You’re drunk,” she said. I just stared, anger and hurt coming off me in waves. “Get some sleep,” she demanded. “We can discuss this in the morning, like adults.”

Slowly she took two steps backward and turned, racing up the stairs. I watched as she disappeared and flinched as the sound of a door slamming echoed through the empty house.

Everything that had happened between us slammed hard into my chest. I backed up and slid down the cold wall behind me. I dropped my head into my hands and ran my fingers through my hair. The loss of her made it hard to breathe. I didn’t know what to do, how to move forward without her. Nothing felt right any more.

***

At some point, I managed to drag myself upstairs and into bed. I woke up, the sun blinding me as it shone bright through the windows. I rose up on my elbow and rubbed my eyes, cursing myself for not closing the curtains last night.

I got up and headed to the bathroom, using the last of my strength to brush the taste of stale booze from my mouth and take a couple of aspirin.

I made my way down stairs, the scent of fresh coffee leading me like a bloodhound toward the kitchen. I poured myself a cup and leaned against the counter, taking a sip of the rich, nutty flavor laced with much needed caffeine.

The sliding glass doors that led out to the deck were open. The cool, salty breeze spread through the house and brushed against my face. I looked out the open door to where Madison sat in a deck chair, staring out at the waves.

I watched her as I sipped my coffee. I’d fucked up last night, more so than ever before. I acted like a complete dick. A small part of me had wanted her to feel what I was feeling, the hurt, and the betrayal. Regret sat on heavy on my chest.

Madison unfolded her long perfect legs and stood up, turning to head inside. She froze when she saw me leaning against the counter, and my jaw tightened.

Suddenly the contents of my coffee cup were intensely fascinating as I dropped my eyes to the murky blackness.

“Good morning.” She headed to the sink to rinse out her cup.

I scoffed. “Is it?” Damn asshole filter was still on the fritz.

She braced her hands on the counter and sighed. “Is this how things are going to be from now on?”

I set my cup down hard on the marble counter top and faced her. All the hurt and anger from last night bubbled to the surface, my body tense and hot as I stared into her cool blue eyes. “That all depends on you, sweetheart.”

She sighed and stood up straight, folding her arms across her chest. “What do you want from me, Sean?”

My eyebrows narrowed and the muscles in my shoulders tensed. “Are you serious?” She didn’t respond, just shifted her jaw and looked away from me, fighting back tears.

I slammed my fist down hard on the counter. “God dammit,” I roared. Madison jumped at my outburst and swallowed hard, blinking away the tears in her eyes. “I want you. I thought I made myself pretty fucking clear.”

“I told you,” she whispered. “That’s not what this was. I was honest with you from the start. It was about sex, Sean. That’s…”

“Bullshit!” I said. “You convinced yourself that’s all this was, but you know it as well as I do this was never just about the sex, Madison. What we have is real. At least…it is for me.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I scoffed. “Yeah. You’re so sorry, you decided to spend a romantic weekend with my father.” Sarcasm dripped from my lips as I spoke.

“That’s not what this is.”

I pushed off the counter and fixed her with a hard glare. “Then what the fuck is it, Madison?”

Her eyes dropped as she picked at her fingers. “It’s a work thing. My boss and his wife will be here later today.”

I laughed. “So, it’s a couple’s weekend with your boss,” I said, my voice hard. “How sweet.”

She shook her head and looked up at me. Her eyes were sad and empty. I hated it. I hated myself.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

“Well, you sure as shit don’t want to fight for me either.”

The high pitch beep of the keypad rang through the house, and we both froze. The door opened, and footsteps sounded down the hallway. My jaw clenched. I leaned forward, gripping the counter as he approached.

My father turned the corner. He smiled when he saw her. Then his eyes landed on me, and his face fell.

“Sean,” he said. “What are you doing here, son?”

His eyes darted between Madison and I as he waited for an answer. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked.

I looked up at Madison. Her eyes were wide and full of panic. I laughed and tapped a fist on the counter. “Not at all,” I said. I turned to face her. “We’re done.”

I turned and shouldered past him and headed back up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me and my fist into the wall.