by Claire Adams
I waited until her hand was raised to knock on the door before opening it.
“You’re late,” I said, knowing full and well she was nearly 10 minutes early. She didn’t bother arguing, opting to roll her eyes and walk past me toward the living room. Her legs were covered in a flowing skirt that draped onto the floor, and her torso in a tight-fitting shirt that hugged her chest in a way that I couldn’t stop noticing. Her hair was down, full of volume and as shiny as a freshly waxed wooden furniture, and the highlights of cherry red didn’t help the wood similarity. “We’re having dinner with my mother.”
“I know,” she said and took a seat on the couch. She checked a thin watch on her wrist, more jewelry than functional, and glanced at me. “We leave here exactly at six. I know the drill.”
So she did. We’d had dinner with Mom the other night, followed by another instance of Maddie attacking me nearly the minute we crossed into the home. She was comfortable with our arrangement, and never asked to sleep over or spend any more time with me than necessary. In fact, most of our time together was spent either naked or planning our next dinner with Mom.
“Don’t bring up my stories again,” I said. After nearly an hour of conversation about why I stopped writing, Mom had taken it upon herself to drag Maddie into convincing me to write again. “I don’t have the time.”
“You don’t have the time to write?” she asked. “What else are you doing with your time? Going on fake dates with other women?”
“That depends,” I said. “Are you spending your time blackmailing any other men?”
The edge of her mouth tilted downward, the only thing that revealed how uncomfortable she was talking about what she’d done. I knew she hadn’t blackmailed me, of course, but I loved getting a reaction out of her nonetheless. Plus, if I could save some other poor asshole from her scheme, then so be it.
“Would that make you jealous?” she asked after a moment's hesitation. I leaned against the door as the clock struck six. Time for dinner.
“If you’re trying to make me jealous, I think you’re going to have a difficult time,” I said. “Come on; it’s time to go.”
She pouted and draped her purse over her shoulders. “Time to go,” she repeated.
Karen met us at the door with a polite smile. I wasn’t sure how she felt about Maddie, the two barely spoke during our dinners, but I did notice her hesitate as she greeted us. Karen shot me a speculative glance, and I shrugged.
There was no way that my mother’s nurse was the only woman who saw through the charade.
“Maddie!” Mom’s smile was genuine as we met her at the dinner table. “How are you, darling?”
“Well, I’m fine, thanks for asking,” I said with a forced laugh. Mom had gotten in the habit of throwing all of her attention onto Maddie during our dinners.
“I know how you’re doing,” Mom said. “You see me three times a day. Really, Maddie, can’t you distract him more than just two nights a week? He needs to get out more.”
I pulled back Maddie’s chair and waited for her to take a seat. She slipped into it, and I sat beside her.
“I guess I could try and take him out to more places,” Maddie said. “Where do you think we should go?”
Once again, I was cast to the side as Mom and Maddie planned my life.
“There’s the ice museum,” Mom suggested. “Or you two can go kayaking. We went once when he was younger, and he loved it until his kayak tipped over and he thought he was going to die.”
Maddie burst out laughing.
“I was 10,” I said. “Of course I thought I was going to die.”
“Have you gone kayaking since then?” Maddie asked. I shook my head.
“It hasn’t appealed to me.”
Her hand inched toward mine, and I recognized the suggestion in her eyes. She wanted me to grab her hand. I settled for lying mine on top of hers.
“Then maybe that’ll be our next date,” she said with a gleam in her eye. “A nice kayaking date.”
“You’ll have to take a ton of pictures,” Mom said as Karen sat out our dinner. Oven roasted salmon with a salad and scalloped potatoes.
“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. “Lots of pictures.”
I reminded myself to later drill it into Maddie’s head that we weren’t going on a kayaking date, nor the ice museum.
Mom asked Maddie about her modeling career, and my date went into a detailed explanation of how a photo shoot worked.
“Do you prefer that to acting?” she asked. “I’ve seen you in a few commercials. It’s always nice seeing a familiar face on the TV.”
“Oh, acting is my one true calling,” Maddie said. I recognized the same faraway, dazed look cross onto Maddie’s face as she shared her passion. “I decided to start auditioning for more commercials, without my agent. I’m starting to think that I’m going to need to get it done on my own.”
“That sounds like a very hard career,” Mom said. “A lot of people would give up by now.”
“Maddie’s determined to get what she wants,” I said without a second thought. My fork paused in mid-air, a piece of salmon stuck on it, as Maddie shot me a betrayed look. I returned it with a hardened stare, but thankfully Mom remained oblivious.
“A woman after my own heart,” Mom said and returned to her meal. She opened her mouth to continue, but she was caught in a hard cough and grabbed onto the table as she bent over abruptly and choked on her food.
“Mom!” I yelled and rushed to her side. “Mom, breathe!”
She forced herself to breathe deeply, but the coughing had taken its toll, and her face grew pale. I checked her plate to find that she had only eaten a single bite of potatoes. Karen returned just as Mom threw up dark bile onto the table. Maddie gasped and kneeled on the other side of Mom as I held onto Mom’s upper arm and tried helping her stand.
“I can’t—” she tried speaking, but a clear liquid was spilling from her mouth and dripping down her chest. She tried covering her mouth with her elbow, but her legs collapsed as I lifted her and she fell onto the floor into her puke.
“Here,” Maddie said gently and pressed a thick napkin to Mom’s lips. She wiped off puke that clung to her face and took her other arm. Together we lifted her up and into the bathroom, over the toilet.
“I’ll get her medicine,” Karen said and left. Maddie stayed near Mom’s side through most of the night, gently rubbing her back as Mom grew sicker over the toilet, and repeating kind and gentle words even though we both knew that Mom wasn’t listening to either of us.
It wasn’t until later, when I was putting Mom to bed and saying goodnight, that I fully realized how caring Maddie had been with her. There was nothing forcing her to take care of Mom like that, she could have easily walked away and not dealt with her illness, but she had stayed without a second thought.
We walked back to my home in silence.
“I’m sorry,” I said after closing the front door behind us. “I can pay you a little extra for everything you did.”
“What?” She turned toward me and frowned. “Pay me? Why would you do that?”
“You acted like her nurse,” I said. “You don’t want any compensation?”
“Why would I?” she asked. “Gavin, I wasn’t going to just leave a sick woman like that.”
I held my tongue. Maybe Maddie did have a heart after all.
“I’m going to get some sleep,” she said and lied down on the couch. “I’ll leave before you’re up.”
The night had taken a toll on the both of us, it seemed. I left her on the couch and stood in the kitchen as I took two long gulps of whiskey. I waited until a buzz helped sooth my nerves, and went over the night’s events. Maddie was quick to help and had seemed beyond worried about Mom, even after I had acted like an ass to her. She deserved some respect, at least.
I walked back to the living room with the intention of inviting her to sleep on my bed, it would be a much more comfortable night for her this way, but I froze
when I saw her.
Her mouth was parted as she slept, her breathing long and even, and an arm draped over her forehead. I watched her for a moment and decided against bothering such a comfortable sleep.
I opened a chest on the side of the couch and pulled out a thick, plush blanket and draped it over her. I’d apologize to her and thank her tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty
Maddie
I woke up much later than planned. I had wanted to leave before the sun had a chance to rise, just to avoid any awkward confrontations with Gavin, and thought I set my alarm for five in the morning. But it wasn’t the shrill sound of a phone’s alarm that woke me, but the pleasant smell of fluffy pancakes and maple syrup.
The sizzle of bacon made me lean on my elbows and look over the couch, where I found Gavin standing in his kitchen making breakfast. He tall, strong frame torso was naked, and my eyes raked down his muscled back to the top of loose drawstring pajama bottoms. I almost groaned. Avoiding awkward conversation would be difficult while leaving in the middle of his breakfast for one.
“I’m sorry,” I said and stood. “I completely overslept. I swore I set my alarm, but it never went off.”
“It did,” Gavin said. “It woke me up, so I turned it off.”
I hesitated while stuffing my feet into my heels.
“You turned off my alarm?” I asked. “Why?”
“Join me for breakfast,” he said. It wasn’t a question or an offer, I noticed. In fact, it almost sounded like a request. But he wasn’t scowling as usual as he sat plates on the breakfast table.
“Really?” I asked. “You, me, breakfast?”
“Take it or leave it,” he said. “I made extra, anyways.”
I took a seat at the table and stared at the pancakes and bacon. “Thanks,” I said.
“I should be thanking you,” he said and sat across from me. “And apologizing.”
I remembered what happened at his mother’s, and realized that this was some sort of way to make up for the dinner.
“God, don’t,” I said. “You don’t owe me anything.” Seeing his mother’s illness, not just hearing it but actually experiencing it, had been like a slap in the face. While I was stroking her back and promising that she was okay, I realized that this woman I had gotten attached to was truly dying. Before then, I had seen her as a woman who was merely sick. As if she simply had a cold that kept her house-ridden but otherwise healthy. Mona was dying, and her son was paying me to pretend to be in love with him.
I was exhausted after the dinner when we returned to Gavin’s house, and less than a minute on the couch had resulted in me falling into a deep sleep full of never-ending dreams.
“I can’t make much else,” Gavin said as I cut off a piece of pancake. “My breakfasts are usually shakes after the gym.”
“Where do you work out?” I asked, realizing it had been too long since I worked out myself.
“I have a home gym,” he said. Of course, he did. “I can show you later, if you’re interested.”
“I’d like that,” I said and smiled. Maybe Gavin and I would work out together. “I can cook breakfast next time, too. Nancie’s a huge breakfast person, but she was awful at cooking, so I ended up making our breakfasts every other morning.”
“How is your roommate?” he asked. “Settling into California?”
“I don’t think you ever settle into California,” I said. “But she’s good, calls when she gets the chance, which isn’t often. Her gig keeps her pretty busy.”
“Modeling?” he asked. I nodded. “How’s your promoting going?”
I realized it had been several days since I even bothered checking my social media, which most likely meant I lost more followers than I gained in a month. I hadn’t been interested in promoting since I became involved with Gavin, but I wasn’t exactly sure why.
“I’m focusing my interests elsewhere,” I said as if it was a business meeting. “I’ve been keeping an eye out for auditions.”
“My mom was right,” he said after a moment. “A lot of people would give up at this point.”
“I know,” I said. “But that’s why I won’t give up. I don’t want to be like anyone else.”
He lifted his fork, touched the tip of his lip with it, before setting it back down on the plate and staring at me.
“You’re not like anyone else,” he murmured. For a moment, I assumed he meant it as an insult, he had every right to, but I realized he was genuine. It was a genuine compliment.
I blushed and stuffed a piece of bacon in my mouth. I swallowed it with a long gulp of orange juice and wiped my mouth.
“Thanks,” I said. I felt a warm blush spread over my cheeks, and when Gavin offered a smile and returned to his food, I decided to take a risk.
“Why don’t we go to that ice museum?” I asked. “Like a real date?”
The silence between us stretched until I was certain he didn’t hear me, and I finished the breakfast while mustering up the courage to ask again.
“Listen to me carefully, Maddie,” Gavin said as he stood. “Don’t mistake my hospitality for anything else than it is, and it’s not an invitation for anything more between us.”
“I just thought that this was nice,” I said. “We’re having a good time.”
“A good time would be going on a real date with a woman I wasn’t paying,” he said. “You and I have an arrangement, nothing more.”
I stood from the table as it became obvious he was waiting for me to leave his house. I grabbed my purse from the couch, slipped on a pair of sunglasses, forced a smile onto my face, and nodded. Pain laced my chest, but I ignored it.
“I understand,” I said. “Nothing more, nothing less. Just text me when you need me again, okay?” I meant to text me when we were having another dinner, but we both understood the hidden meaning behind it.
“Don’t expect anything for the rest of the weekend,” he said and left for the second floor of his mansion. I stood quietly in his foyer, alone, nodding to myself and I internally slapped my own reddened cheeks.
I was a fool for ever expecting anything more between us.
I ended up at Ron’s house just a few hours after fleeing from Gavin’s house. Ron had texted me with an offer for lunch, and despite having an enormous amount of money in my account, I had opted to choose the free lunch option. I hadn’t spent more than $20 in the past week, other than bills, and I wasn’t sure if I would ever feel comfortable enough to actually spend the money Gavin sent me. It felt almost like a betrayal, and I wasn’t ready for it.
I walked through Ron’s front door just as he was finishing up lunch. Milo greeted me with a wag of his tail and a slobbery kiss on my face. He was barely seven months old and already nearing a hundred pounds, and I didn’t even have to bend my knees to greet him.
“Hey, Maddie,” Ron said with a nod in my direction. “Glad you had time for lunch.”
“It’s a Friday,” I said, and I scratched behind Milo’s ears. His eyes rolled to the top of his head. “And I’m the most antisocial person I know. I have time for anything.” I sat at the dining table and watched as Ron ran back and forth from the kitchen. Lunch was a club sandwich, and a side of store-bought potato chips, and I had to knock Milo off the table as he attempted to beg for scraps.
“I asked Gavin over for dinner,” Ron said. “But he said he was busy. I thought it might have been with you.”
“We’re not attached at the hip,” I said. “Which I suspect works in your best interest.”
“What do you mean?” He offered a confused smile and gave me a plate. I was still semi-full from breakfast, but I took a few bites from the sandwich. He sat beside me, one arm leaning against the table as his other hand held up a sandwich. Milo’s head forced itself through my elbow, and he attempted to bite at my plate. “Milo, down!” The puppy’s ears folded backward as Ron scolded him.
“Your best friend and cousin dating,” I said. “Isn’t it weird for you?”
Ron pe
rched his lips and took a few bites before responding.
“As long as you’re both happy,” he said.
I frowned. Were we happy? Of course, the entire point of our arrangement was to convince others that we were, and maybe for a moment I had felt like we were happy, but after the end of our breakfast, I wasn’t entirely sure.
“What was he like?” I asked instead. “Growing up.”
Ron thought for a moment. “Cautious,” he said. “Gavin was careful about everything. It took him a week just to do a two-page essay because he second-guessed every word. Actually, thinking back to it, I think the only time he ever just did something for the hell of it was when he wrote.”
“And you read his stories?” I asked. Ron had given me a few of his stories when we were both younger, but I couldn’t remember if Ron had been interested in any of them.
“No.” He shook his head. “I mean, I think I read one once, but we were in middle school, and the most important thing to me was impressing Mrs. Lawsworth,” he said. “Why?”
“I remember them,” I said. “Not the teacher that you promised you were going to marry. I remember Gavin’s stories. You gave me a few to read.”
Ron blinked. “I did?” His head looked at the ceiling. “Oh, I guess you’re right. I was a little asshole back then. I’d give them to you and make you tell me the important parts so I could pretend that I read them. It’s a miracle Gavin bought it.”
“I don’t think he did.” I laughed. “I just think he’s too good of a person to call you out on your bullshit.”
“You’re probably right.” We both finished our lunch and sat at the dining table with Milo’s tail wagging at our feet. His body was long enough to lie beneath both of our seats. “A good kid. That’s what he was like when he was young. Simple enough, but it describes him perfectly. A good kid.”
“Your foil,” I said. Ron frowned as he looked at me. “I mean, your opposite. Like, while you were in detention, he was probably volunteering at some animal shelter.”