Leo Maddox (2 page)

What.

The.

Fuck.

I cleared my throat.
Had I heard him correctly?

“Did you just say Clara and Andrew? As in Andrew Wellington? Maggie’s Andrew?”

Andrew Wellington, aka Shit for Brains, was Maggie’s ex-boyfriend. I thought when they split up months ago, that was going to be the last time I’d ever have to hear his stupid name.

Motherfucking hell.

“Yes,” Reed clarified. “Sorry, did you not know? I figured Maggie would have told you by now. Clara is dating Andrew. They started seeing each other about a week ago, but they’ve been inseparable since. Clara’s bringing Andrew as her date this evening. And I have a feeling the shit’s going to hit the fan tonight.”

My heart plummeted to the floor. I was going to be sick.

No, the shit had already hit the fan. My nightmare had become reality.

CHAPTER 3:

S
tay sober.
That was my only thought as I entered the Reed Ryder Ballroom later that evening. To hell with doing work with Regina. Instead, I’d spent the last several hours getting ready and mentally preparing myself for this evening. I wore a sharp, light gray Armani suit with a white shirt, brown tie, brown belt, and brown Bottega Veneta shoes. Someone once told me that gray brought out my blue eyes. Not that I gave a damn about that sort of thing, but my eyes were usually the first thing women commented on so why not wear something to draw focus to them? Add in my perfectly styled black hair and I was at my best.

I looked the part. I felt the part. Even if I hated the part.

Clara, Maggie, and I had been born into this world destined to become friends. Mrs. Ryder and my mother used to be so close, closer than sisters, that they planned their pregnancies to coincide. The three of us kids shared birthdays, milestones, countless family vacations, summers in Blue Creek, and every holiday with the exception of this past Christmas. In addition to sharing so many good memories, we also shared one of the worst. Losing our mothers within a few days of each other. Mrs. Ryder died of cancer and my mom, so grief stricken by the death of her best friend, ran away. Or so goes the story I’d been told me entire life. The twins—then and now—were my family, my siblings, and my home. And as close as Maggie and I remained over the years, the opposite happened with Clara. I fell in love with her, not long after losing our mothers, and that was the first nail in Clara-Leo-friendship-coffin.

But hell if I was going to let her end up with an asshole like Andrew.
Reed’s information gave me new motivation. Tonight was more important than I’d originally thought.
So you have to stay sober!

Drinking used to be my crutch. In social situations like this, I was very rarely seen without a martini or a beer in hand. But as shitty as I felt about Clara, I couldn't afford to lose control tonight. So I found Doug the cater-waiter, a guy I'd known for years, because I needed his help. We weren't friends, but for a hefty tip, Doug would do anything for me.

“Just bring me water in a martini glass please. Garnish it with an onion so it looks like a Gibson martini. Keep them coming as fast as I drink them.” I slipped him a hundred dollar bill and he didn't question my strange request. It was one I had asked of him before. People expected me to drink, drinking was what these people did, and so I gave them the impression they wanted.

“Yes, sir,” he replied and within minutes I had a water-martini in hand.

The night progressed. I watched Reed dance with every person in the room. The man knew how to have a good time and no matter the occasion, he was always the life of the party. Many of the people in the room came specifically for him. He had an infectious charisma about him. If thoughts of Clara dating that fucker weren't still lingering in my head, I might have enjoyed my time with Reed. The man served as a second father to me, maybe more of a father to me than my actual father, and he was one of the few people in this world I actually enjoyed being around.

Then suddenly I felt a woman's fingers slide over my shoulder. “Leonardo,” a voice worse than screeching hyenas whispered in my ear. “It's been a long time.”

“Leah. Hi.”

A very beautiful, very surgically enhanced, woman in her mid-twenties wrapped her hands around my neck. I peeled her off me. She frowned playfully, trying her hardest to entice me. Leah Longerburger never gave up when she wanted something or someone. We used to mess around as teenagers, but I wasn't sixteen or desperately horny anymore. I didn't find things like her bleached hair and fake boobs so attractive these days.

“What is it?” I asked her. “Because I'm not in the mood.”

“You're no fun anymore,” she pouted. “Still pining away for Maggie Ryder? Now that Clara is dating Andrew you must be pretty thrilled. So, where is Maggie? Or is she too hurt by her sister to bother showing?”

“You're jealous,” I told her. “I'm just trying to figure out of who. Maggie or Clara? Or is it both?”

“No. I'm just bored. Andrew Wellington was a lousy lay. Hell, all of the guys in this town are lousy lays. You weren't half-bad. Want to find out if that's still true?”

“Well, fuck me,” I said, grabbing her gaze and holding it. “You just called yourself a slut and insulted me all in one breath. When you put it that way how could a guy refuse? Good night, Leah. Don't bug me about this again. It's getting pathetic.”

Then, grabbing a fresh glass of martini-water from an approaching Doug, I sauntered away from the notorious Leah Longerburger. I only wished I would have had the same good sense at sixteen, when I lost my virginity to her on the grass next to the sand trap on the eleventh hole.

Claiming a seat at an empty table in the back of the room, I sat and rested my head on a dinner plate.
Leah and Andrew too?
I guess he hadn’t waited long before moving on from Maggie. The news of him and Leah didn't necessarily surprise me. It just made Clara dating him all the more repulsive. What was going on with her? Was this some desperate cry for help? Maggie was the romantic one. The sister who fell in love often and easily. Not Clara. Clara was the take no shit and take no prisoners type. She lived the life she wanted and marched to the beat of her own drum. This news of her and Andrew didn't fit with her character and it had my head spinning.

* * *

U
naware of how much time had passed, lost in my thoughts and resting my head on my dinner plate, I sat up to Maggie hovering over me.
Finally, she shows!
She wore an elegant red dress and had her hair styled in precise waves. Even on her worst day, she never looked anything less than her best. She gave me a small frown, taking in my fake-inebriated state. I pretended to get fake-drunk all the time and Maggie never had the good sense to notice it as a hoax.

“Dammit, Maggie. Where have you been? I was beginning to think you'd ditched me,” I snapped at her. My voice came out sharp, but all I felt as I looked up at my best friend was relief. Her breakup with Andrew 'the prick' Wellington happened months ago, but I knew a great deal of pain surely still lingered in Maggie's heart. And this news of Clara and Andrew being together... well, I feared it might have sent her over the edge again. But she looked okay. Better than okay. Completely composed.
Well, if she was okay then what took her so damn long to get here?

Maggie pulled out the chair beside me and sat down. Her expression screamed of worry for me. “Do you need to get out of here? I’ll go with you right now if you need me to.”

I didn't answer and instead glanced upward at a very tall, very muscular, random dude standing behind her. He had tan skin and short brown hair. Where did he come from? Had he been standing there the whole time? Maggie had a date. A date I completely missed until just now.

“No, I'm fine,” I told her. “Totally peaches. I wouldn't want to disrupt your date.”

Rent-A-Date remained very still, assessing the situation and watching my interaction with Maggie. He reminded me of someone, maybe an actor, but my mind was having a hard time placing him. He wore a plain black suit, plain shirt, and plain tie. All very generic.
Where did Mags find this guy? The yellow pages? The side of the road?

Being polite, Maggie introduced us. “Dean, this is Leo. Leo, this is Dean.”

“Dean,” I said in sharp voice, trying the name out on my tongue. It didn't seem to fit him. “Why don't you sit down? Save us from breaking our necks here.”

Guys like Dean never liked guys like me telling them what to do, but he sat anyway. Not beside Maggie, but in a random chair at the opposite end of the table. I stretched my hand out for him to shake and he returned the gesture without hesitation.

Something about Dean rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe he was harmless, but I decided I didn't care for him. Doug passed by the table at that precise moment and I signaled for another fake-drink. “Another Gibson, please,” I ordered, knowing that things were about to turn sour.

See, this was why I didn't drink.
I didn't need alcohol to send me over the edge since it inevitably happened anyway. The blood under my skin boiled and the fight or flight instinct in my brain buzzed to life. Fight, I always chose fight. Dean hadn't done a single thing to me, but somehow I knew I couldn't trust him. Somehow I knew he was lying about something. Tomorrow Maggie would be pissed at me for ruining her date, but at least I could blame it on my fake-intoxication rather than admitting my shitty personality was at fault.

Both Dean and Maggie ordered a drink from Doug. Maggie opted for a glass of wine and Dean asked for a soda. And something in my brain finally clicked. I narrowed my eyes at Dean. I realized what was bothering me about him. I already knew him. But his name wasn't Dean.

“Have you seen Clara tonight?” Maggie asked.

“Negative,” I answered, keeping my eyes locked on this guy. He had some nerve coming here after all these years.

“So…she didn't even bother showing?”

“Thank the fucking Lord for that.” I was grateful now that Clara wasn’t here. She didn’t need to see me beat Robby Harvey’s ass into the ground.

Maggie saw the animosity growing inside me and she tried to distract me by making conversation. That wouldn't work. Not now. Not when I’d recognized Dean as Robby Harvey. And the bastard sat only feet away from us. My protective instincts kicked in. Did Mags even realize who she'd brought as her date?

Robby Harvey. Time had transformed him. Six years ago, when we both saw him last, he was much shorter and thinner, with long, hippie-style hair. He didn't have the bulk and muscle he had now. But even with all the changes, how could Maggie not recognize him? He used to be her step-brother! She used to date him! She almost lost her virginity to him!

“What was your name again?” I asked, my voice taking on a mocking tone. “Dan?”

“Dean,” he corrected.

“Funny. You don't look like a Dean.”

The waiter returned. He handed out our various drinks. I took a big swallow and then continued to push Robby. “Have we met before?” I didn't want to flat-out announce who he was. I wanted Maggie to recognize him for herself.
C'mon Mags, don't be so dense!
“You look very familiar,” I rattled on. “I'm positive I know you from somewhere.” Maggie still hadn't made the connection. I was losing patience fast. “Mags, where did you find this guy? He looks an awful lot like—”

“Clara and Andrew are here,” she announced, cutting me off before I could spill the truth.

All thoughts of Robby Harvey were suddenly forgotten. I sucked in a sharp breath, while my eyes refocused across the room.

Clara.

She was actually here. She looked more beautiful than ever. She wore the sexiest, tightest fitting black dress I'd ever seen. It showed off all her perfect curves. Her long platinum hair had natural wave and I loved how she always wore it wild and free. As she moved closer, I noticed that she had pink streaks through her hair.
Holy shit.
I never found crazy colors in girls' hair to be attractive, but it looked positively sinful on her. Against my will, I felt all the blood in my body start rushing to the wrong spot. I shifted in my seat and instantly my fingers brushed over that same old scar on the underside of my arm.

Everyone said Maggie and Clara were identical, but to me they were nothing alike. They walked different, talked different, and made different facial expression...even their personalities were polar opposites. And while over the years Maggie and I grew to be best friends, the same never happened with Clara. It never happened because I was in love with her. I could function normal around Maggie. But around Clara I forgot how to breathe, how to be civil, how to act like a human.

Thanksgiving. That's the last time Clara and I had been around each other. And seeing her now made me realize how much I'd missed her. We didn't have any form of a relationship, but I missed her just the same. I wanted to start trying to make things right with her. I wanted to make tonight be the night that I changed destiny between Clara and I.

And then I noticed Andrew and all good intentions left me. My focus had been so zoned in on Clara that I hadn't initially noticed him standing with her. He had his arm synched around her waist like he was afraid that if he let go she might run away. He laughed at something she said as the pair moved through the crowd. They appeared to be walking in our direction. My desires faded fast and were replaced with anger. Maggie slid out of her chair and moved to an unoccupied one next to Robby.