by Leigh James
I grinned. “I doubt it. Sir.”
We kept playing, the midmorning sun beating down on us. Frank and I caught up and were finally ahead. Tyler’s next serve was a wicked ace that was just out of my reach. He fist-pumped when he got the point.
“Good work, but we’re still down,” Art barked.
I smiled at Tyler. “Tough going.”
He looked pissed for a second, then recovered into his usual smug form. “That’s all right. That’s okay. You’re going to work for me someday,” he chanted.
I grimaced. “That’s very mature of you.”
He laughed. “Oh wait, never mind. I realized where I recognized you from—you deliver packages to my company. Never mind! Wish fulfilled.”
I caught a glimpse of Maddy in the stands, nervously wringing her hands together. “Shut it, Tyler.”
He puffed out his chest. “Make me.”
Frank glanced at me nervously. We were so close.
“In a minute,” I told Tyler. He served again and I hit the ball back; Art lunged for it and missed. Tyler reached to try to save it before it went out, but he couldn’t quite get there.
“What good are you, Dermody?” Art roared.
“Sorry, sir.” Tyler glared at me.
Frank crossed himself. “Match point.”
The ball came to him, and he volleyed it right to Art. Art didn’t hesitate—he sprinted into place, put his racket on it, and hit a drop shot.
I dove for the ball. There was no way in hell I was letting them win. Just in time, my racket connected and volleyed the ball across the court. Art ran for it and missed. Tyler threw himself at it and missed.
“Woo hoo!” Frank twirled his racket around like a lasso. “We did it! We did it!”
I clapped his shoulder. “Yep, we did.”
“I can’t believe it. After all these years!” Frank had a starry look in his eyes.
“They’re not actually that good,” I told him in a low voice. “If I’m ever back on the island, I’ll give you a call. Rematch, baby.”
“I hope I live for a few more summers,” Frank said. “That would be epic!”
Art was red-faced, screaming at Tyler on the other side of the court.
“Gentlemen,” I called, “thanks for a great game. Catch you next time. Or not.”
Art turned his red face to me. “You wait a minute, son—”
“You can’t tell me what to do, sir. I appreciate that you’re running this place like a gulag, but I’m a free man as of today. Have a nice Sunday.” I nodded at him. “Tyler, by the way, you’re an asshole.”
He stalked over to me. His own face was red, and his eyes were wild. “What did you just say to me?”
“I said, by the way, YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE.” I flashed him the dimple.
To my credit, he swung first. But I ducked, and he missed. My fist, however, connected nicely with his jaw. He went down hard, hitting the court with a satisfying thud.
I leaned over him. “See you at work, douche-face.”
He pointed up at me. “You’re going to pay for this.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I stepped over him as I left the court. “Says you and your aviators.”
I stopped when I came even with Madison. Unlike her father, her face was white as a sheet. “You ready?”
“Uh, yeah.” She eyed the scene on the tennis court. “Sure.”
Chip drove us to the ferry. No one came out to see us off, not that I blamed them. I had just decked one of their longtime family friends after beating the family patriarch at a game he refused to lose.
Maddy didn’t speak to me on the way to the wharf. I didn’t blame her, either.
There wasn’t much left to say.
The truth was, I never should’ve accepted her invitation for the weekend. Or I should’ve at least followed my friend Ryan’s advice and kept things light and fun. Instead, I’d gotten involved. I’d started to have feelings for this girl.
Those things did not bode well for me.
Clearly, Maddy wanted nothing to do with me. She paid for our tickets and sat across the aisle from me, just staring out the window. She looked sad. I wanted to tell her that answering Katie’s call had been a mistake, but she didn’t want to hear it. Talk about a mess. Katie was crazy—crazy to have skipped out on her own wedding, crazy to keep calling me as if I had something to do with it.
But I understood Madison’s position. Why would anyone want to start a relationship with me when my ex wouldn’t leave me alone?
I sighed, leaning back against the seat and watching the water. When Katie had left me, it had hurt. But what was worse was that she was still tainting things. The fact that she still had any sort of power in my life made me so angry that it was a little scary.
I pushed my feelings to the side, right where they belonged.
I took one last look at Maddy, trying not to feel anything.
It was going to be a good, long while before I put myself out there again.
Chapter Twenty
MADISON
We didn’t say a word on the ferry or in the Uber. I vaguely wondered what the driver thought of us, the silent couple in his backseat.
I didn’t even know where to start. This was the fastest breakup I’d ever had, and we hadn’t even gone on a date yet.
Bob insisted on dropping me off first. He carried my bags to the door. He cleared his throat in the awkward silence. “It was nice meeting you, Maddy.”
“You too.” I stiffly accepted my suitcase from him. “Thank you for coming this weekend.”
He nodded. “Sure.”
“Um…” I bit my lip. “Am I ever going to see you again?”
“I hope so.” He said it so quick, it sounded like the truth.
“I hope so, too.”
His shoulders slumped as he headed back to the car. He stopped, turning to face me before he got in. “I’m only sort of sorry I beat your dad at tennis. I’m not at all sorry about Tyler, though. I’d do that again in a heartbeat.” He gave me one last glance before climbing into the back seat. “I am sorry I stopped kissing you. Sometimes trying to do the right thing’s the wrong thing.”
With that, he drove away.
I just stood there and watched him go. The me from two days ago was yelling at the me of today.
Go after him! she urged. Who cares if he says no? You have to try!
I ignored her, even though I got a lump in my throat as I watched the car disappear.
The weekend had taught me a lesson, an important one. Now I knew what putting myself out there got me. I was embarrassed, alone, and felt singed, as if I’d gotten too close to a fire. I sighed as I hauled my bags inside of my quiet, spotless, luxuriously decorated townhouse.
I locked the door behind me and sank down onto the couch I rarely used. The silence in my house was cold comfort, but that was better than nothing. Although I was lonely, I reminded myself that I was at least good at it.
Always an A student, I had no plans to fail ever again.
“Have you heard anything from your sister?” Josie asked. She’d called me from her hotel.
“I think they’re still in Mykonos. I don’t think they’re coming back for a month.” I looked out my office window at the beautiful Boston afternoon. The sunlight hit the fall leaves so that they shone brilliantly in all their shades of red, orange, and yellow. “I’m sure they’re having a great time. Did you see their feature in Vows? Sienna must be on cloud nine.” A prominent newspaper had featured the wedding, and the piece included a gorgeous picture of Sienna and Tim, their arms locked tightly around one another, eyes sparkling.
“I loved that picture,” Josie said. “Sienna was a stunning bride. They both looked so happy, you know?”
I sighed. “I know.”
We were both quiet for a second, but I knew what she was thinking. “I haven’t seen Bob at all,” I said before she could ask. I hadn’t said his name all week—it tasted funny on my lips.
“Didn’t you order yo
ur usual stuff from Amazon?” My friend knew me too well.
I traced my finger along the windowsill. “Yes. But it was a different driver. No big deal. He must just have another route this week.” In fact, I’d paid extra for shipping and ordered refrigerator filters I didn’t even need. I’d worked from home that afternoon then moped when the non-Bob delivery guy dropped them off. Not that I wanted to see him. Or talk to him. Or anything.
“You haven’t called him?”
I cleared my throat. “Why would I call him?”
“Because you want to talk to him?” Josie used the same tone she used when speaking to her four-year-old niece: gentle but firm.
“I don’t want to talk to him.”
“You never heard his side of the story. You don’t even really know what happened, Mads.”
I pressed my forehead against the window. “I know enough. In one breath, he was kissing me. In the next, he was running off to comfort her. I might not be a relationship expert, but the signs seem pretty clear, even to me. He didn’t want to be with me. He had something more important to do. Why would I humiliate myself by making him spell it out to me in explicit, excruciating detail?”
“What would you do if Dean Smith called you?” Josie asked. I pictured her next to an enormous fireplace in her upscale hotel, wearing a chunky-knit sweater and booties, her hair and makeup perfect. She probably had ten guys checking her out at that moment and was clueless about it.
“I’m sorry…what?” I was too busy imaging her outfit and being pissed that she was trying to give me relationship advice—which I desperately needed—to understand her question. “Dean Smith? Huh?”
“What if your ex-boyfriend called you and said he needed help? What if he was having a crisis and turned to you? What would you do?”
“I’d tell him that we broke up over a decade ago and that he should call someone else.”
“Let’s say it hadn’t been that long. That you broke up last year,” Josie said. “Just for argument’s sake.”
“I’d tell him to leave me alone.” But that sounded so mean. “I mean, I guess I’d talk to him first and see what his problem was.”
“Because that’s the decent thing to do.” Josie sounded mildly triumphant. “What if Bob was just trying to be decent?”
“To the woman who ripped his heart out?”
She sighed. “That’s what nice guys do. That’s why we say they finish last—they get no credit for their good deeds.”
“Even if that’s true, and he’s not still wrapped up in his ex, it doesn’t matter.” I sighed. “He beat my father at tennis and knocked Tyler out. My family didn’t even say goodbye, and I haven’t heard from my mother all week. He’s been blackballed.”
“Since when did you care what your family thought?”
“Since I saw Sienna get married on our property, and it was perfect, and everybody was happy.” Except me.
“Your family is a lot of things, but perfect isn’t one of them.” Josie paused for a beat. “What you want is what’s important.”
“Like I said, it doesn’t matter. I haven’t heard from him, which makes it pretty clear that he’s probably psyched he escaped the Delaney loony bin.”
Josie sighed again, and I knew she was shaking her head. “For someone who takes so many risks in your work—I don’t know. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
Marcus buzzed through on my intercom. “Madison, I’ve got Jesse from the brokerage firm on line three.”
“Josie, I have to run. See you Friday?”
“Of course.”
I hung up my cell phone and straightened my dress, preparing for my work call. But in the back of my mind, I mulled Josie’s question. What’s the worst thing that could happen?
Again, being an A student came in handy—of course I knew the answer. I could get my heart broken.
“This is Madison Delaney. How are you, Jesse?”
This is Madison Delaney. And I am fine, just fine.
So why couldn’t I sleep?
I padded downstairs to the kitchen, telling myself I was going to get a glass of water but knowing that I would be grabbing the Ben & Jerry’s too. I took the pint of milk-and-cookies ice cream and headed to my couch. I’d sat on it more that week than I had since I’d bought it two years ago.
I hadn’t told Josie, but I’d been working from home a lot.
I’d been looking for Bob. In the quiet darkness of my living room, I could admit the truth. I’d watched Mrs. Lindenmeyer walk Bibi up and down the street every day, but there’d been no sign of our friendly neighborhood UPS deliveryman. Instead, a short, muscular Asian guy had taken Bob’s place. I didn’t dare ask him where his predecessor had gone.
I might’ve even cried the last time he delivered a package. Or maybe my contact had been bothering me… I refused to think about it.
I took out my phone. I had Bob’s number. What if I sent him just one text? Something like, “Hey, how are you?” What was the worst thing that could happen?
Hello! Didn’t we already cover this? See above: broken heart.
I had another bite of ice cream.
Maybe I had been too starved for male attention, and that was what had made the time I’d spent with Bob seem so special. But as I ran through the memories of the weekend, it struck me that even the uncomfortable parts had been sort of fun. Like when he’d puked his guts out on the plane. I didn’t know why that seemed so adorable to me. It must’ve been the fact that he’d tried to be a good sport about it, even though it had clearly been an ordeal. Or when he’d lost at tennis to my dad. He’d been so mad about the injustice of it all, but he’d thrown the match anyway. He’d done that for no other reason than I’d asked him to.
And before he’d left, he had beaten my dad. Maybe he’d done it because he was pissed about losing the first time, but really, I thought he’d done it for Frank because Frank deserved a win. Because it was wrong that my dad had never let his friend win in so many years. Bob had wanted to do the right thing.
Crap. Maybe Josie had been right.
She was my best friend, but I really hated it when she was right.
Chapter Twenty-One
BOB
“Hey, man, do you want to switch routes back?” Kevin, the guy I’d swapped trucks with at work, asked. “Some of the people in your neighborhoods are weird.”
“Yeah? Like who? The guy with the teddy bear collection?” I shrugged. “He’s harmless. He’s always ordering new video games and fish food.”
“Nah, not him. This lady on Acorn Street. She keeps crying every time I drop off her stuff, and she keeps getting deliveries every day.”
I stopped scanning packages and looked at him. “On Acorn Street?”
“Right. Pretty woman, tall with blond hair. I mean, she’d be pretty if her face wasn’t so red and puffy.”
“Huh. Yeah, I don’t know anybody like that. But we can trade back on Monday if you want.”
Kevin nodded. “I want. There’s some other crazy dude, too. The one at Dermody Industries.”
“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I know him.”
“I guess you do! He tried to jump me my first day, thinking it was you.” Kevin shook his head. “You got some winners, I’m telling you.”
“I’ll deal with it. Thanks for covering for me.”
“No problem.” Kevin hopped onto his truck, and I watched him go. The woman he’d talked about sounded like Maddy. But it couldn’t be. Why would she be crying?
This was crazy. If Maddy was anywhere, she was at her office, conquering the world of email cloud services. I hadn’t heard from her once since we’d gotten back. Of course, I’d thrown my cell phone in the ocean. But big sap that I was, I’d gone directly to the cell phone store after dropping her off. I’d gotten a replacement phone with the same number.
I’d received no calls or texts from Maddy. I had another fifty from Katie, but I hadn’t gotten back in touch with her.
I’d talked to Marta
every day. I had told my sister all about the weekend, down to every last cringe-y detail, including me punching Tyler Dermody out. “Whoa,” she’d said. “Your weekend sounds almost as bad as Dave’s.”
“Nah. He dodged a bullet.” I wanted to call my old friend to offer my condolences, but I was worried what he thought my role was in all this.
I tried not to think about Maddy as I drove home from work, but the thoughts kept creeping in. I’d been obsessing about her since we’d gotten back—silly things, like the smell of her shampoo and how my heart had literally lurched the first time she really smiled at me. She was the nicest girl I’d met in over a year.
How had Roberto Palmieri so royally fucked things up?
I should call her. I wanted to call her.
But then I remembered the look on her face when she saw me on the phone with Katie. I thought of how wide her eyes had gotten when I trounced her father at tennis on his home court and then celebrated by punching Tyler Dermody in the face. I was lucky her family wasn’t prosecuting me for assault and battery, let alone bad manners.
I could feel my phone in my pocket, but I didn’t take it out. Maddy was probably better off without me. Maybe she would meet someone from her own world, with a tennis court all his own and a desk job. Someone who sucked less at golf. Someone her mother didn’t want to sleep with. Or at least someone her mother didn’t think was a gold digger.
So although I felt my phone in my pocket and an ache in my heart, I didn’t do a thing. I just kept driving.
“I told you to just have fun,” Ryan warned as he sank another shot into the corner pocket of the pool table. “You’re a magnet for drama, I swear.”
“Have you talked to Dave?” I asked.
He blew out a deep breath. “He’s in bad shape. His mother answered his phone and said he was ‘resting.’”
I shook my head. “It’s for the best. I’m telling you, she’s a man-eater.”