Except…
Except I just told Robert that he doesn’t know everything there is to know about me. And if we’re playing fair here, that also means that I don’t know everything about him.
But Kim? Kim Harden? Okay, yes, she’s pretty in a sultry kind of way. Her eyes are exotic and she can speak with them like it’s nothing. And she has legs all the way up to her neck. But I know Robert, and Robert is more of a breast man than a leg man. Though he did comment on mine, so maybe there is something to the whole leg thing, but maybe he just said something because mine were, and still are, out for his viewing pleasure.
What if Kim came back and Robert saw her, her hair blowing in the wind supermodel-style, and suddenly fell in love with her, so deeply that he started giving her anonymous gifts? Crazier things have happened, even crazier than Robert Swift falling in love…
Right?
“Hey.”
Suddenly, I can feel Robert’s hands on my shoulders, his entire torso bent over so he’s level with my face and the tip of his nose is close to brushing against my own.
“I know that look on your face,” he tells me in a soft, low voice. “You’re thinking too much about something, worried about something, trying to figure it out. And instead of talking about it, you internalize it, which just makes it worse.” He gives me a look. “What’s up?”
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” I suddenly ask, trying to read those eyes, trying to figure out if what he’s about to answer is true or not. “Something, I don’t know, important? Involving someone we both know?” I think if I push my brow up any higher, I’ll start to get those wrinkles on my forehead.
“What? No.” He’s standing up straight now, his hands off my shoulders as if I’ve just burned him or something like that. “Of course not. Why? What’s gotten into you, Maddy? Has James Morris been telling you things? I saw how chummy the two of you seem to be already, even barely knowing each other what – five minutes? Well, I hate to break it to you Maddy, but the guy is a total tool, no offense to Harold. But really, major tool. All writers are.”
“That’s a baseless generalization,” I say, “and you think everyone’s a tool. But yes. He did mention a few things, some observations that he has made.”
“Such as?” Robert prods.
“Such as nothing,” I snap, harsher than I intend to. I sigh, pausing a moment to collect my thoughts. “Just, forget I asked the question, okay? I have a bunch of things I need to do, and I’m also waiting for Sam to get here with my pants.”
He nods his assent and starts to leave.
But then he stops. And turns in order to look at me.
“We’re okay though, right? I mean, nothing’s changed between you and me? Partners in crime, on the run, thick as thieves, the whole shebang?”
Despite myself I smile and nod. “Of course, Robert,” I say. “Nothing and no one could change that.”
“All right,” he says, giving me his grin. “Well, I’ll leave you now. If anyone tries to get in here with you looking like that, call security. If it’s James Morris, call me so I can kick his ass. I know Harold will understand. Gotta go. See you later.” And with that, he leaves.
I should probably get started right away on the work I need to do, but I’m too caught up in my thoughts. See, the thing is, Robert’s hiding something from me. I can always tell when he gets overly defensive there’s something he doesn’t want me to know. Obviously he hasn’t learned that I find everything out, whether he wants me to know about it or not.
But I really did mean what I said. About nothing and no one coming between us.
I’ll never tell Robert this but he’s the one person I feel the closest to on this planet. He’s my best friend and I trust him with my life. I treasure what I have with Jewel, but it pales in comparison to what I have with Robert. Even if Robert is in love with Kim – Kim, of all people – I’ll accept that and deal with it. I don’t think he is, but if he is, I would be happy for him, ask him if he’s sure Kim really is the one or maybe he’s blinded by those legs, and then move on. And attempt to like Kim.
I would do it. For Robert.
But I really don’t think he’s in love with Kim.
Chapter 14
What are we doing here again?” Robert asks before his lips caress the glass of Scotch he’s holding and he takes a nice, long sip of the liquid.
As usual, Robert looks quite handsome dressed in one of his summer suits. He, of course, is making a subtle statement about how much he doesn’t want to be here by wearing a suit that doesn’t go with the season, but someone ill-equipped to understand the constantly changing trends would have no idea unless he tells you. It’s one of Haspel’s summer suits, white, with two buttons on the jacket. Underneath is a predominantly white long sleeved shirt with navy blue stripes that match the navy blue tie he’s wearing. I can tell by his hair that he didn’t even attempt to tame it, and the way he’s drinking the Scotch – as if it’s water – is something I’ll have to keep an eye on, even though he promised not to get drunk like he did on New Year’s.
“Harold wanted to throw his son a welcoming party,” I whisper, noticing that Robert and I are about to be invaded by women. Well, Robert is. I highly doubt they even notice me. “James has been here a few days, and Harold thought that Saturday would be best.”
“There aren’t even that many people,” Robert says, his eyes taking in the small crowd. “Jewel’s not even here.”
“Yes, well, Harold wanted to keep it small and intimate.”
I sigh through my nose, wishing that Jewel could be here. But because Harold pulled this party from nothing and it was late notice, she has to be at the office, finishing the calls I couldn’t finish a couple of days ago. Friday night may not be the ideal time to work, but we’re hoping that some of the international potentials will be at work on a Saturday morning.
“And does the band know anything besides Frank Sinatra?”
I give him a look. “You happen to like Frank Sinatra,” I remind him. “And so does Harold. And since it’s Harold’s party, he can play as many Sinatra songs as he wants. And no, you cannot go up onstage and start singing an AC/DC song. I don’t care if they let you, and I don’t care how much you’ll pay them. I know what you’re doing, Robert. You’re finding fault with everything so you can complain about it, and think that this is lame, and you don’t want to welcome James, and everything. But why don’t you think of it as being there for Harold, okay?”
“That’s the only reason why I’m here,” Robert says before he takes another drink of his Scotch. “That, and to see if I’d get to see those legs of yours. And no, I wasn’t disappointed.” His eyes drop to my bare legs and I shove him without attracting any attention. “What? It’s true. You have very nice legs, Maddy. I’m starting to think that Patricia was right. You really could model if you wanted.”
“Can we not talk about me getting another job?” I ask, already feeling my frustration boil up, and we haven’t even been here for a half an hour yet. “Listen, I see your fan club coming up here so I’m going to go. Put on a brave face –”
“Maybe you should stay,” he says, cocking his head to the side as his eyes look at me in the way they normally do when he wants to ask me something but doesn’t actually want to have to ask. “I’m already through with one Scotch. Maybe you should stick around and make sure I don’t, you know, get too trashed or anything like that.”
“I have faith in you,” I say, but it interests me why he wouldn’t want to be alone when a slew of supermodels or starlets or whoever they are – they all seem to run together, really – are coming this way, their various eye colors on Robert.
“Yes, but maybe –”
“Madeline Perkins!”
James Morris interrupts our conversation with a wide smile on his face. I was so consumed with Robert that I didn’t even realize that he, too, has been heading over. He looks practically as handsome as Robert does, but unlike his shorter counterpart, he�
��s wearing an appropriate winter suit – or at least I think he is – that is a rich blue color, bringing out his blue eyes. His hair is combed back from his face, highlighting the sharp bone structure.
“Mr. Swift,” he says when he notices Robert. “Wow, I’m so honored that you could come. You know, I’ve been visiting my father every day since I got here, and how funny is it that we haven’t actually met yet?”
“Yeah,” I mutter under my breath. “Funny.”
Robert’s been avoiding James as long as he possibly can, and was actually hoping to do so tonight.
“Well, nice to meet you,” Robert says, shaking James’s hand. “Your father talks about you, well, whenever he hears from you –”
“You look nice, James,” I cut in, hoping James doesn’t catch on to the fact that Robert will say anything to slyly show James he really doesn’t like him. “You know, your father put all of this together for you.”
“I can tell,” James says. “Constant Frank Sinatra. If that’s not Dad, I don’t know what is. You know Madeline, I was hoping that I could get you to dance with me. I haven’t talked to you in a while and I think we need to catch up.”
“Actually, Maddy, I need you to –”
The rest of his objection is swallowed due to the fact that the beauties have Robert surrounded now, and without him even realizing it, have pushed me out of their little circle. I really have no choice but to accept James’s proposal of dancing, especially since I can’t see Robert, let alone hear him, and I’m certain that whatever he wants to tell me has been muted and now he probably doesn’t even remember what he was objecting to in the first place.
James has a gentle hold of my wrist, and he positions himself in front of me so we’re dancing to Frank Sinatra’s “The Best is Yet to Come.” I’m really not familiar with more traditional dancing, but James assures me it’s quite easy if I just follow his lead. And surprisingly, I only manage to step on his feet twice before I finally get the hang of it.
“So,” he says once I can look him in the eye rather than at my own feet. “Have you talked to Robert about Kim’s mystery gift?”
I smile. “You know, I’m positive it’s not Robert,” I tell him. I’m like ninety-nine percent sure it’s not Robert, but really, James doesn’t need to be aware of my one percent doubt. “He’s not really a gift person, and he’s definitely not a relationship person. So definitely not Robert.”
“You speak as though you know him pretty well,” James points out.
“Well, I do. I mean, we’ve been together for three years and counting. I know him inside out. Jeez, it sounds like we’re in – never mind. But yeah, Robert and I are pretty close.”
“I’m sure I’m not the only person who’s mentioned this to you, but isn’t that strange?” James raises his brow. “Talking to my father, I’ve heard a lot about Robert, and the media is infatuated with him just like everyone else seems to be. But thething that I continuously hear is his reputation with women – and obviously it’s true. Look at that pack of gorgeous women around him right now. But you… you seem to have this uncanny patience with him, despite everything he seems to be.”
“Patience isn’t really my thing, but Robert’s taught me a lot about it,” I say, and though I can’t explain why, I feel the urge to defend Robert. “And I’m with him not despite what he is but because of who he is. I know Robert seems off-beat and fickle, and so many people underestimate him, but he’s probably the greatest man I know. I’ve never thought twice about leaving him and he hasn’t mentioned wanting me gone – I don’t think he could function without me, really – and we work well together.”
“I can see that,” James agrees. “I feel as though he needs a woman like you to keep him in line. Hopefully he appreciates you.”
“He does.” I think.
“Good.” He gives me a boyish smile. “But now that I’m here, I think it should be my mission to find out who sent Kim that gift, and what she seems to be hiding.”
“You seem very interested in Kim Harden,” I say, feeling my lips curl up beyond their own accord.
“Well, I suppose I am,” James says. “We did meet in New York, after all. And she told me she wasn’t seeing anyone – not that I asked her, of course. You know how she is; telling things you really don’t care about but that seem to mean everything to her. And yet here she is, with a gift on her desk.”
“Do we even know what the gift is?” I ask.
“I didn’t watch her open it or anything, but my father tells me it’s some kind of music box or something. Melinda says that Kim is obsessed with music boxes, so whoever got her the gift knows Kim well enough to have gotten her a most desired gift.”
The song ends, as does our dance.
“You know, I think I’m going to interrogate our Ms. Harden,” James says, and we share a sneaky smile. “But I’ll be slick about it. Maybe she’ll be tipsy on the champagne and reveal who her potential suitor is. You never know.”
“Good luck with that.” And really, I’m sincere about that because I can barely be in Kim’s presence for longer than two minutes, let alone an entire dance.
Oh well. We all do what we have to do.
I watch James head off to find Kim before I turn and slip among the crowd. I end up sitting at the bar and order an orange juice. The heels I’m wearing are killing my feet and it’s nice to sit on a bar stool and people watch rather than socialize about things I’m not familiar with and don’t really care about.
As I sip on my drink, I take notice of James and Kim spinning around the dance floor. Of course she happens to be quite good at dancing; I bet she never steps on James’s feet. She actually seems to be enjoying herself, smiling at James. And he seems to be enjoying himself as well. Although maybe he’s just really good at pretending. I mean, he is trying to find out some things about her after all. I wonder if he’ll actually succeed…
Okay, I can admit it. I’m kind of jealous of Kim. Who wouldn’t be? I mean, I’m more of America’s Sweetheart than a bombshell, or sex kitten, or exotic. I’m sweet, not sultry. And my body is up to par with my expectations and happiness, but there are moments when I wish my thighs had more definition or my hair, for one day, could be a little more tamable. I really like how I look, but even with that confidence, someone with clear skin and deep eyes – Kim – walks by, and I get self-conscious.
Maybe I should be thanking God someone’s interested in her. and that whoever that is seems to have captured her interest as well.
You need to stop it right now, Madeline Perkins, a voice that sounds suspiciously like my father’s says in my head. You are intelligent and beautiful and sweet. You have a lot going for you. That Kim Harden is good-looking, no doubt about it, but I highly doubt she graduated from USC with a job as Robert Swift’s PA. I highly doubt she’s secure enough in herself to be alone and independent. You should feel lucky that your body functions, that you’re healthy, and, icing on the cake, that you are beautiful. You have a lot going for you. Quit feeling sorry for yourself – things could be worse and you know it.
The voice is right. I can’t hate Kim because she’s gorgeous. But I can detest her because of her lame choice in baseball teams and because of how condescending she is to me.
“Can we leave yet?”
I glance over at Robert, who takes a seat next to me and looks at me with those big, brown eyes. My eyes drop down to the lower half of his face and I notice some whiskers coming in.
“When was the last time you shaved?” I ask, sidetracked by this.
“A couple of days ago, and that’s beside the point,” he tells me. “I feel that we’ve stayed her for a good duration of time and can leave now. Hmm? What do you say?”
And then it dawns on me that Robert has left his group of beautiful women to come over to ask when we – me and him – can leave. Am I getting this straight? Did Robert actually, by his own choosing, ditch beautiful women in order to leave? Maybe he has a couple of women waiting for him outside or
something. But if that’s true, he wouldn’t be asking for my permission. Instead, he’d be telling me that he’s leaving, and really, there’d be nothing else I could do about it.
But for him to actually ask me permission?
That’s weird, right?
“We can’t just leave, we barely got here.” I take another sip of my orange juice. “I thought you were having a lovely time with the ladies.”
“Thanks for ditching me by the way,” he says. “Listen, I finished my Scotch and haven’t had another one because I promised you I wouldn’t get trashed. I’m not onstage, belting out ‘Dancing with Myself’ or screwing a model in the bathroom. Will you please consider our leaving soon? Like within the next fifteen minutes?”
“No!” I give him an obvious look. “Have you even talked to Harold and Melinda? And what about having an actual conversation with James, other than a ‘Hey, what’s up’ kind of thing, except you didn’t even ask him what’s up.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you were doing enough talking for the both of us,” he tells me.
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing; only that you danced with him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to dance with him. Next time, I’ll make sure to ask you your permission. What is your problem with James Morris? I mean, beside the fact that you think he’s a tool, based solely on your opinion of him rather than your experience with him. What is it that you seem to dislike so much about him?”
“What do you know about this guy, Madeline?” he asks me, his eyes darkening as they lock into mine. “I mean, really, really know about him. Harold doesn’t talk too much about him. We’ve only met him now. And all of a sudden, he sweeps in, trying to woo you, acting like your best friend and shit. And whatever it is, I know he’s the reason why you got all weird that Tuesday morning when you came in drenched. I can’t explain it, but something is off about that guy.”
Four Sides of a Triangle: An Austen & Cufflinks Novel (The Austen & Cufflinks Series Book 1) Page 13