by S. Moose
“I know that,” I whisper. Okay, that’s not going to work. “I know that,” I say strongly. “I love having freedom and being single. It’s freeing. Unnerving. I get to focus on what I want instead of what someone else wants. Especially if that someone doesn’t truly know my worth.” My self-worth is more than anything. A woman needs to hold herself in the highest regard. If we don’t love ourselves, then how can we expect someone to love us? That’s where I’m at right now. I love myself because I know my self-worth. I’m more than being a side piece or someone’s dirty little secret.
“You haven’t seen that asshole lately, have you?” I don’t miss the hate reeking from her tone. “Please don’t tell me you have, and that’s why you aren’t giving Bryce Hunter an admission into your wonderland?”
“God. No. Anyway, I need to be single and focus on me.” I know how much Kaylee despises him, and she has good reason to. She’s the one who had to be my rock during my post-breakup phase. From listening to sappy sad songs to binge eating fried foods and cookies and refusing to shower for days. I’ll admit I hit rock bottom when he dismissed me, and that’s not a place I want to be again. Bryce Hunter has the power to hurt me. Break me. Tear me down and spit me out.
I’ll never put myself in that position again.
“Whatever you say. Personally, I think you’re allowing your fear to overshadow what you want. I know you feel something for Bryce, and you’re intentionally building this unbreakable wall so you don’t get hurt again. What’s love without a little pain? Not literally love-love, but you know what I mean. With every relationship we go through, there’s bound to be some pain.”
I do my best to offer her a smile.
“I think it’s time to call it a night,” I suggest.
After we pay our tab, Kaylee calls her brother to drive us home. Lucky for us, he lives close enough to walk over to the bar, and we don’t have to wait long. I’m leaning on Kaylee, trying my hardest not to text Bryce. These chances I should be taking are scaring the shit out of me. If I can prevent another heartache, then I will. Even if that means possibly missing out on something good. Something worth it.
Everything happens for a reason, I think to myself.
Bill rushes over to us and takes the keys from Kaylee. We walk to our car, and the three of us get in. The drive is quiet until my phone buzzes. Once I see it’s Bryce, I hit reject and laugh.
“What’s so funny, Maddy?”
“Pfffft, don’t call me that, Billzer.” I laugh again. “I pressed reject on a man who I should most definitely be interested in. Sadly, I can’t be involved. I miss his big …”
“Stop!” Bill shouts. “There are some things a big brother shouldn’t know, and that’s one of them.”
It’s my phone again, and I flip it over to see a text message.
Bryce: I’ve never been rejected. This is a new feeling.
Madison: Get used to it, bucko.
Bryce: Bucko?
Madison. Yep.
I’m not in the right frame of mind to talk to him. Alcohol makes me say what’s on my mind, and I can’t let that happen. I toss my phone in my purse and listen to Kaylee bugging Bill about his love life.
Once we’re home, Bill gives us both a hug and leaves in an Uber. Kaylee and I change into our pajamas and lounge on the couch with wine, since the need for more alcohol is real.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if Bryce showed up tomorrow at work?”
I snort in the most uncouth way. “Oh, yeah. Hilarious.”
“M, I’m being so serious.”
I’m holding my wine glass midair and literally feel my chest tighten. If Bryce Hunter shows up tomorrow at my job, I’ll have a few choice words for him. Then a high-pitch laugh flies from my mouth. “Yeah, I’m sure Bryce Hunter is thinking about me, out of all the women in the city. K, shut up and let’s indulge in our wine.”
“I bet you a pair of Louboutins that Bryce will show up tomorrow … with flowers.”
Another laugh shoots through my lips. “Oh, you’re so on. P.S. I’m a size seven.” I turn to her and wink, raising my wine glass in the air.
Chapter 9
Madison
No amount of sleep or coffee will help me this morning. My head’s spinning. I’m getting way too old for this crap. The alarm is blasting in my ear, and I can’t find the motivation to get out of bed. Everything hurts. I wonder how bad it would be to call in sick and nurse my hangover. A day in bed with Netflix sounds amazing.
Struggling to move, I place my feet on my bedroom floor and muster the strength to walk to the bathroom and take a shower. Maybe a hot shower will do.
I’m feeling semi-human when I walk out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. Kaylee’s singing, dancing, and being super annoying.
“Quiet time,” I fight through my hung-over stage to say. “Please remind me never to drink like that again. I have no idea how I’m going to function today.”
“Stop being a baby bitch and drink this.” She slides over her cure, and I cringe because I hate the taste. “Drink! We’re leaving in five minutes.”
I moan and tiredly grab the cup of I have no idea what and chug it. Apparently it’s a miracle blend Kaylee swears by. I’ve never had the pleasure of trying the concoction until now.
“At least you can’t tell you’re hungover.” She laughs and pats my knee. “Told ya my drink works.”
“Shut up. Today needs to be over so I can crawl back into bed. Remind me not to drink like that again.”
“I’ll remind you, and then you’ll do it anyway. Remember what you did three weeks before graduation? You got so drunk you ran away from the group, passed out in an apartment complex, and got dropped off by a very nice man. By the way, I can’t believe you did that. Then there’s that little stunt you pulled when we went to New York City? If I remember correctly you went into the pizza shop and went behind the counter to try and make your own pizza.”
I groan. “Please don’t remind me.”
After a genuinely uplifting chat from Glenn, I direct my attention to the new suits we have, and the mannequins I need to dress. My head’s about to explode. Having that bottle of wine before bed wasn’t a great idea. I’m not sure how much sleep my body had last night, but I know damn well it was not enough. I’m amazed I’m able to function at all. I don’t look like I’m hungover—thank God. My makeup’s nice, and my hair isn’t frizzy or crazy. I look done up. Presentable.
Glenn doesn’t always follow the rules. Instead of copying what corporate suggests, he’s putting his trust in me to create something that’ll pop and make the ladies want to dress their men in the suit outfit I’m putting together.
My philosophy with men’s fashion is simple. Men love to see women in lingerie. They want sexy, a kitten in the sheets, and someone who’s confident. When women see a man in a nice, crisp, well-fitted suit—well, to us, suits are our version of lingerie. A man in a well-tailored suit who carries himself with poise, confidence, and strength will be able to get their woman.
Galen waltzes in, handing me a Grande Americano that I’m extremely grateful to receive. Today, he’s wearing lime green dress pants, lord, a white button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up, and a lime green tie that matches his pants.
“Oh, my love. You look fabulous this morning.” He throws open his arms and engulfs me in a bear hug. “How are you feeling?”
“Thanks, babe. I’m good. How are you doing?”
Galen gets comfortable in a sofa chair behind me and grips my waist to turn me around. “I’m in love. Love! Me! Man whore of the century. Oh, M, you need to meet him. Like hands down, he’s bae. For real.”
Galen and I met through Kaylee. He's a really good friend and I appreciate him always being there for me the way Kaylee has been. After all the drama went down, Galen camped in our living room for a week with us and we binged watched on nearly every chick flick, ugly cry movie available.
I love working with him. He makes the day fun and has the craziest stori
es to tell. Galen's the type of friend who’ll listen to you, give you blunt advice, then expect you to do the same, but he’s loyal and down to earth.
“Doesn’t bae mean poop in Danish?” I tease.
“Are we in freaking Denmark, bitch? No. We’re in America, and bae is a cute nickname.” He smirks, full of himself.
“Whatever you say.” I laugh and turn back to my project. For some reason, when I look at the crisp shirt, I think of how good it would look on Bryce and wonder if he likes having a nickname.
“Hello! Earth to M! What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
“Nothing.” I do everything I can to hide my flustered tone. Bryce Hunter needs to stay out of my head, or else I’ll be in so much trouble. “Well, he sounds amazing if you love him. I’d love to meet the man who finally ties down the infamous Galen Thompson.”
He blushes and hugs me, resting his head on my belly.
“Good morning, Madison.”
Galen strengthens his embrace on me, and I stop breathing. Literally, I’m not breathing. The man standing before me, holding a bouquet of beautiful flowers, has a tense expression on his face, and he’s aiming his anger at Galen.
Crapola.
“Morning, Mr. Hunter,” I greet brightly.
Galen loudly gasps, and I want so badly for him to let me go. Glancing around, I notice Glenn’s on the phone and Kaylee’s gawking at us with a knowing smile.
That bitch.
“You owe me a pair of Louboutins, size nine, please, Mr. Hunter.” I cross my arms over my chest.
He raises a brow, and his expression turns to confusion. “Whatever you want, Madison.”
I scoff. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“The shoes aren’t for me. They’re for Kaylee since I lost a bet,” I clarify although he doesn’t require an explanation.
“A bet?” He smirks and looks in Kaylee’s direction. She winks at him, and he laughs before turning to me. “Whatever the wager was, I’m glad you lost.”
“I don’t mean to be rude at all, Mr. Hunter, but what are you doing here?” Galen’s fingers are digging into my dress. “Galen, let me go and go away.” He does and turns to Bryce, then winks at me.
“Now that I have you alone from your boyfriend …”
“Galen’s not my boyfriend. We’re friends.” I narrow my eyes at him. “You thought he was my boyfriend?” I lower my voice for what I’m about to say. “Even though we slept together?” Again, why am I explaining myself to this man? It’s annoying.
“I apologize for insinuating you’d cheat.” A beautiful, panty-dropping grin plays across his clean-shaven face. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
I shake my head even though my body’s telling me to say yes. “Not right now. I’m working. I need to put together five mannequins, then meet with a client. I wish you would have called me instead of just showing up. And, as a matter-of-fact, you showing up with flowers is highly inappropriate. Plus, Kaylee’s handling your account.”
“That’s what you think, Madison.” The way he says my name makes me want to moan. His smooth, velvety voice is doing things to my body, and I’m trying hard not to let him know how he’s affecting me. I’m weak when it comes to him.
“I’m rather busy,” I counter, hoping the weak tone of my voice doesn’t give me away.
Bryce takes a step closer, and with slow determination, he looks me up and down. His inspection seems to last for hours, his gaze searing my skin as heat begins to rise from my veins and fan down my arms. His woodsy scent is bringing my body to the brink of swooning. The rest of my body heats with shyness. This man can’t keep doing this to me. There needs to be a wall separating us that … well, cannot be cracked. One that needs to withstand explosion and destruction.
Two things will happen if I let Bryce into my life. He’ll make me fall in love with him, and then he’ll toss me aside when he’s done with me.
“Kaylee did a wonderful job, and I’m impressed,” he informs me. “I’m sure she and I would work well together, but she’s not who I want. I’m not willing to accept her.”
My mouth goes dry. Honestly, who the hell does he think he is? He’s here, at my job, holding flowers and making demands. Seriously? Doesn’t this man know how to be professional and not so stalkerish? “I’m sorry to hear that’s how you feel, but there’s nothing that can be done to change what’s been decided.” Apprehension permeates my words as I think of more ways to keep Bryce Hunter at bay.
“I can read people very well, Madison. That’s how I’ve been so successful in my business. So, as you were saying that, I could tell you were thinking about ways to push me out and never see me again.”
He leans in much closer than before until his lips softly brush against my cheek. I keep my hands by my side and will my body not to betray me as a shiver travels up my spine and courses down my front. Heat pools low in my belly. The urge to pull Bryce into me and have him mark me with his lips heightens. One kiss will break me.
I’m so screwed.
“Although I know that’s not what you want. Stop fighting this. You’re attracted to me the way I’m attracted to you. I intrigue you as you intrigue me. Why are you fighting something that will be perfect?” The word perfect hangs temptingly from the tip of his tongue, coming out sensual and seductive, but I can’t give in to him.
“I have to get back to work. Whatever you need, please, let Kaylee know.” I can’t let him know I think about him and agree with what he’s saying. Something about him is pulling me in. Only, I can’t. I simply can’t. A woman’s heart can only take so much pain before her heart grows cold and never recovers. If I give in to Bryce and my desires, he’ll take what he wants, then leave me in the dirt, never turning back to see if I’m okay.
I would never survive him.
“The only work you need to focus on is whatever I need, and right now, what I need is for you to acknowledge this connection we share.”
“Why can’t you take a hint?” I hiss and cautiously look around to make sure Glenn isn’t anywhere in sight. “When a woman says no, she’s not interested, then that’s what she means. I don’t know what kind of women you’re used to, but I’m the type who says it like it is. I don’t play games. At all. So when I say to give up, I mean it. If you truly want to be my client, then you need to be professional. I won’t accept anything less.” I am a step away from driving my finger into his chest.
Amusement dances in his eyes. I’m clenching my jaw, hoping and praying he’ll finally take the hint and leave me alone or stop the shenanigans of trying to be with me.
“If you can deny this attraction between us, I’ll leave and work with Kaylee.” He steps closer and places the flowers down on the counter behind me. When his hand brushes my arm and trails up to cup my cheek, my body betrays me, and I turn to mush. I’m putty in his hands. I nearly whimper.
“I’m not attracted to you. There’s no connection. It was just one night,” I tell him firmly, maintaining control.
Bryce’s eyes widen then narrow on mine. “I don’t believe you.” He appears slightly wounded.
“I’m telling the truth. So since I answered your question, are you going to leave me alone now?”
His hand drops from my face, and I immediately miss the warmth. This distraction needs to stop. I don’t care how my body reacts to him. It’s mind over body. I’m craving intimacy and a good fuck, which explains why my body’s pawing at him, whispering to his mind to come take me. It’s carnal, human nature. He’s attractive. Nothing more.
“Madison, I’m very sorry for making you uncomfortable. I’m being sincerely honest, so I hope you believe me. I like your vision. It’s new and fresh. I’d like for us to continue working with one another. I won’t be involved. You’ll work directly with Tiffany, and she’ll bring me whatever you show her. Any communication will go through her, and you and I won’t have any contact.”
“Really?” I sound condescending, but I can’t believe
he won’t try something.
He raises a brow. “You sound disappointed.” He sounds hopeful, and I need to squash that now.
“No,” I say quickly. “I’m not. Although I’m very surprised that you’re waving the white flag.” He is a game player, and I am afraid this is another one of his tactics.
“Well, you’ve made it clear you don’t see me the way I see you. I’ve overstepped with you, and it’s caused you distress.” I hear the genuine sincerity in his voice, and I slowly smile. I’ve won. “Will this work for you?”
“Mr. Hunter, it should work fine.”
“Please, call me Bryce. There’s no need to continue calling me that. I understand you want to remain professional, but I insist you call me Bryce.” He pauses and studies me, maybe trying to find a crack or weakness. “But working with Tiffany, I mean. She’ll be the middle person for us.”
Tiffany.
I needed to know if she was the woman I saw in his office when I went back in. The woman who gave me an evil death glare and almost hissed at me to stay away.
“Is Tiffany the woman who was in your office when I came back?”
“Yes. She’s my right hand and knows exactly what I need and what to do. I couldn’t get through a day without her.”
Ah. A connection. Now it all makes sense—from the way she stared daggers at me, wordlessly telling me to leave, to the tension in the air when I walked into the office again. Dealing with another woman equates to drama, and I’ve had more than my share.
I muster up a smile even though I want to stomp like a child since he most likely is taken. “As long as she’s okay with it, then I don’t see an issue.”
“Okay. I’ll have her contact you to schedule an appointment. For now, you can get together a few more casual outfits.”
Grabbing a pen and paper from behind me, I write what he needs. “Anything specific?”
“I trust you, Madison.”
“I’ll get it together, and it should be ready within the next few hours.”
Bryce doesn’t say anything right away. Our gaze meets, and that familiar butterfly fluttering in my tummy is going crazy. The tingles and shivers are doing delicious things to my body. Being around him is too much, and I’m thankful this will be the last time.