That Night with You

by Alexandrea Weis

  “Mike, play nice,” Hayden scolded. “They’re my clients.”

  “They’re your neighbors, Harry.” She leaned in closer and lowered her voice, adding, “And I know why you’re so hot to build this house for them. You just want to buy their house across the street and tear it down.”

  “That’s because it’s an eyesore, Mike. I want their property, not their house.”

  “Why do you want their property?” Madison questioned.

  “Because they own five acres on Exall Lake that I want to build my dream home on.” He sighed. “My current house is…a problem.”

  Mike let go a deep, hoarse chuckle that surprised Madison. “He means his current house is being sought after by the bloodsucker he was married to. The pretentious bitch wants everything he owns and then some. I swear, Harry, I don’t know why you married that social climbing gossip whore. I told you it would never last.”

  His face reddened and his lips blanched as he mashed them together. “Enough, Mike,” Hayden snapped. “You don’t have to remind me of your reservations about Ellen. I get plenty from Mom and Dad, I don’t need it from you, too.”

  “Fine, fine.” Mike pouted. “I still don’t know why you want to give her your house. Two years of marriage hardly seems worth it.”

  “I’m not giving it to her. She is fighting me for it, and…. This is not the place to discuss it.” He glanced over at Madison apologetically. “Why don’t you stay here and I will go and get Stevie and Pat?”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Parr.”

  When he exited the patio, Madison noted the way his hands were curled into fists. He walked away, and she admired the cut of his tuxedo from behind and the way his butt—

  “You’ll have to forgive my brother, Madison.” Mike’s voice pulled her back from her lurid observations. “Talking about his ex always puts him in a foul mood. But I think you can help with that.”

  “Me?” Madison knitted her brows. “What can I do?”

  Mike’s elegant hand waved down Madison’s dress. “My brother always had a thing for tiny, slender brunettes with green eyes ever since he graduated from UT Arlington. Before that he was a real player. Harry never met a woman he didn’t like in his college days. I think he dated half the women on the Arlington campus.” She winked. “You remind me of Ellen in a way. She has your face, but not your smile.” She paused, and slowly a knowing grin eked across her red-painted lips. “I think you might be just what he needs.”

  “Another reminder of his ex-wife?” Madison curtailed her desire to snicker. “I don’t think so, Mrs. Chaplin.”

  “You misunderstand me, Madison.” Mike stroked the front of her gown, fondling the satin. “My brother needs someone to listen to him. He has no one these days, and I worry that he spends too much time alone.”

  “I’m just his employee, Mrs. Chaplin. I don’t plan on being anything else.”

  Mike’s deep chortle reminded Madison of Hayden’s soulful laugh. “I wasn’t suggesting that. I was merely saying he could use someone in his life that isn’t going to judge him based on his success or bank account. He’s had enough women doing that.”

  Madison had no idea what the strange woman was alluding to, but she decided to venture a guess. “Are you saying you want me to be his friend?”

  “Why not? Don’t you need a friend, Madison?”

  Madison nervously gripped her gold purse and shifted it under her arm. “I guess we could all—”

  “Here are your martinis, ladies,” a short waiter broke in.

  Madison took one of the red drinks from his tray, while Mike picked up the two others being served.

  “Thank God.” Mike took a large gulp from the glass in her right hand, downing the contents in one swallow.

  Madison watched in amazement as the woman finished the drink. Just as the waiter was about to turn away, she stopped him.

  “Here.” She placed the empty glass on his silver tray. “Bring me two more like that one,” she held up the drink in her left hand, “while I finish this one.”

  The young man just grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

  Mike surveyed the guests in the main dining room beyond. “You’ve got to have at least three stiff drinks in you to be able to put up with this pretentious group.”

  Madison held her drink, but refrained from taking a sip. “You don’t like these people?”

  “Honey, snake charmers have more merit than half the people in that room.” Mike nodded to the leaded glass doors to the dining room. “The only reason I’m here is because Harry asked me to come.”

  A very handsome man wearing a black Armani tuxedo eased up behind Mike and wrapped his arm about her slender waist. “Still drinking like a fish I see, Mike.”

  He was tall, over six foot, and his toned body oozed sophistication and sex appeal. Black, wavy hair tinged at the sides with gray outlined his determined, square jaw and high forehead. As his deep-set, dark eyes lingered over Madison’s dress, his thin lips curled into a seductive smile.

  “Tyler, it’s good to see a friendly face amid this den of thieves,” Mike commented, giving his chiseled cheekbone a peck. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  Tyler grinned at her and then tipped his head to the side. “Moe and I decided to come at the last minute.”

  Mike waved to Madison. “Tyler Moore, meet Madison Barnett, Hayden’s newest architect at the firm.”

  Tyler held a tapered hand out to Madison. “Ms. Barnett. It’s a pleasure.”

  Madison felt the man’s eyes linger over her face and figure, causing her pulse to quicken.

  “Tyler is a client and owns Propel Oil and Gas.” Mike patted his tuxedo sleeve. “His house has even won Hayden an award for architectural design.”

  “I remember. The stone contemporary home in Turtle Creek,” Madison stated. “Yes, Mr. Parr showed it to me and another architect last week. Lovely place, Mr. Moore.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Barnett.” Tyler turned to Mike. “Have you seen my wife?”

  “Probably signing autographs.” Mike shifted her gaze to Madison. “Tyler’s wife is Monique Delome, the writer.”

  The name rang a bell with Madison. “Really? I love her books.”

  “I’ll be sure to let her know. Thank you.” Tyler glanced around the patio. “If you see her, Mike, tell her I’m looking for her.” He checked the gold Rolex on his wrist. “We need to get home before my mother has Eva clothed in Chanel and picking out her first Mercedes.”

  “How is Barbara doing these days?”

  He offered a sad smile. “Still coming to terms with Gary’s death, but she’s been spending more time with Eva, which is a good thing.”

  “I was sorry to hear about your stepfather, Tyler.”

  “Thank you, Mike. Give your parents my best.” He kissed the elegant woman’s cheek, and nodded to Madison. “Ms. Barnett. I hope we meet again.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Moore.”

  Madison went to Mike’s side as Tyler Moore gracefully strolled away.

  “Damn, that man has still got it,” Mike muttered, lifting her drink to her lips.

  “I can’t believe he’s married to one of my favorite authors,” Madison remarked.

  “Apparently, they met in college and dated for a while, but nothing ever came of it. At least, not until they met up again a little over two years ago…then the romance turned serious.” Mike gulped back another mouthful of the red martini. “Seems the second time around everything worked out for them.” Mike turned her dark eyes to Madison. “What about you? Do you have a man in your life?”

  Madison shook her head. “No, ah, I—”

  “There she is…Madison,” Hayden called from the patio entrance.

  When she whipped her head around, she saw Hayden walking in beside a middle-aged couple. The man was almost as tall as Hayden, but with thinning black hair speckled with gray. Wearing a black tuxedo with a red cummerbund about his thick waist, his arm was linked with an attractive blonde. She glided along in a silk gow
n of azure with a cream beaded bodice and flowing skirt. With a beautiful creamy complexion and scintillating blue eyes, the woman was draped in glistening gold jewelry about her neck, wrists, and ears. Her smile was warm and inviting as she eyed Madison across the patio.

  “Madison Barnett, this is Pat and Stevie Martin, old family friends, and your new clients,” Hayden announced with a flourish of his hand.

  Madison put her drink down on the table next to her design before stepping forward. Taking Pat Martin’s hand, she uttered, “It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

  “Has Mike been keeping you entertained?” Pat Martin nodded to Hayden’s sister.

  Mike raised her empty martini glass, giving the man a dubious smirk. The contempt in her brown eyes was palpable. “I’ve been giving her the lowdown on your sordid past, Pat.”

  “Hayden has just been telling us about your design,” Stevie Martin began, ignoring Mike, “and I must say we are both very excited to see what you have drawn for us.”

  “He told us you went to UT Arlington.” Pat Martin gestured to Hayden. “Same as Hayden. Did you two know each other from school?”

  Madison’s eyes shot to her boss.

  “No, I never knew Madison before she applied to our firm,” Hayden divulged.

  Madison was shattered. She had still hoped that perhaps he did remember her, but as time went on, it was becoming evident that he didn’t have the slightest clue as to who she was.

  “So is that it?” Pat Martin waved his hand over the long paper Hayden had left on the patio table.

  “They’re wonderful, Pat, you’ll love them,” Mike blurted out, and then pointed to Madison’s untouched martini on the table. “Are you going to drink that?”

  Madison gaped at Hayden’s sister, not sure of what to say.

  “How many has she had?” Hayden softly demanded in her ear.

  “Two,” Madison mumbled.

  “Don’t worry, big brother,” Mike snickered. “We’re among friends.”

  Hayden picked up the drink from the table and handed it to Madison. “Keep this away from her.”

  “These are quite impressive, young lady,” Pat Martin commented, lifting the large sheet of paper from the table with his chubby hands. “I see you’re trying to build the house into the ridge.” He turned to his wife, holding out the plans. “I told you that’s what I wanted.”

  “I didn’t think it could be done,” Stevie Martin confided in a soft voice.

  “It can be,” Hayden assured the couple. “It’s just going to cost you and require a bit more planning as far as the engineering specs go.”

  “I like that the creek is so close to the back.” Stevie Martin gestured to the rear of the home on the drawing. “And these are windows?”

  Madison motioned to the plans. “All along the rear of the atrium, tying in the entrance and the back of the house, is one sweeping room. I have all the rooms running off that main room in both directions, with the second story coming off the atrium via a set of climbing stairs. That portion of the house will be built into the ridge, but overlooks both the front portion of the property and the rear, while the first floor rooms will only have views of the creek. It will give you more of a secluded feel from the street.” She glanced over at Hayden, and he gave her an encouraging smile.

  “I like it,” Stevie Martin affirmed with a curt nod. “It blends in with the property.”

  Pat Martin returned the plans to the patio table, frowning. “Ambitious, yes, but isn’t there another architect coming to show us his ideas?”

  Madison’s hopes were instantly dashed.

  “Yes, Adam Turnbull.” Hayden glanced back at the dining room doors. “Who should have been here by now.”

  As if on cue, Adam—decked out in a tuxedo with shiny lapels and a lopsided black bow tie— appeared in the dining room entrance. His red hair was sleeked back, accentuating his long face and skinny neck. In his hand was a cardboard tube, and when he spotted Hayden and Madison by the fireplace on the patio, his smile broadened, reminding Madison of a salesman in a used car lot. He took off in a determined stride as he approached their party. When his smile morphed into his usual pompous grin, all of Madison’s contempt for her haughty office mate reignited.

  “Madison, what a lovely dress,” Adam commented, with all the sincerity of a well-seasoned politician running for re-election.

  “Hello, Adam. You look very elegant.” She then took a quick sip of the drink in her hand, yearning for the bolster of alcohol in her system.

  “Adam,” Hayden waved toward the Martins, “these are your clients, Pat and Stevie Martin.”

  Adam enthusiastically gripped Pat Martin’s hand, pumping it up and down. After complimenting Stevie Martin on everything except her shoes, Adam’s overzealous eyes returned to Hayden.

  “I’m not sure how much Mr. Parr has told you about my design.”

  “I haven’t said a thing, Adam,” Hayden insisted, holding up his hands.

  Adam beamed at the Martins, tugging at the cardboard tube under his arm. “Well, when I viewed your property and the surrounding homes, I knew I could give you exactly what you wanted. I got such a wonderful vibe from the land and the neighborhood, and what I drew reflected the essence of everything I absorbed there.”

  “Absorbed?” a confused Stevie Martin asked.

  Madison took another badly needed sip of her cocktail.

  “Absolutely,” Adam went on. “The Turtle Creek area is so esteemed, so prestigious, and the homes there are some of the most brilliant representations of classical architecture. Like this mansion we are in now.” He dramatically waved his hand about the patio, looking more like a bad actor in a B movie than an architect. “I wanted to capture the essence of that in my design for you.” He then pointed to the perplexed looking Martin couple.

  Hayden took a step toward Adam, rubbing his hand across his chin. “Why don’t we dispense with the explanations and just show Pat and Stevie the drawing, eh, Adam?”

  “Ah, sure,” Adam agreed, appearing a bit befuddled. Opening the top of the cardboard tube under his arm, Adam approached the black iron table behind Madison.

  She moved to the side, and waited as he spread his plans out over hers. When her eyes craned over his shoulders to get a peek at his finished design, she recoiled. The massive, three-story home had wide colonial windows, Doric columns, and a triangular pediment over the front entrance. Resembling an ancient Greek temple with its Greek Revival design, Madison thought the home appeared nothing at all like what the Martins had wanted. She shifted her eyes to the middle-aged couple as they eagerly scanned the plans, the disappointment etched on both of their faces.

  Mike came forward, interested in the plans on the table. “Jesus,” she gasped.

  “Yes, it’s certainly big,” Stevie Martin commented.

  Adam took it as a compliment and smiled voraciously. “Yes, I have six bedrooms with bathrooms upstairs, and a grand-sized kitchen, family, living, and dining rooms on the first floor.” He gestured to the rooms drawn on the first floor. “Plus, there is plenty of space for a media room.”

  Pat Martin studied the plans. “What about blending in with the property? We want it to be natural, like the land.”

  “Oh, it will.” Adam touched the drawing, pleading his case. “I have included wide windows on the rear of the home in the family room, den, dining area, and even the kitchen. A large deck will come off the back and go down to the creek.”

  “I don’t understand,” Stevie Martin voiced, eyeing the plans. “What about the ridge? Is this going to be built in front of it or on top of it?”

  Adam placed his hands behind his back and rocked cockily on his black, shiny patent leather shoes. “I think to make the house blend in with the surrounding homes, we will need to eliminate the ridge, or at least flatten it a bit, so you can get a great view of the creek.”

  Hayden’s eyes turned to Madison, and for a split second she detected the frustration in them.

  �
��We want to try and preserve the beauty of the land, Adam,” Pat Martin pointed out. “By taking out the ridge we will be compromising the integrity of the property.”

  “I believe you also have to be true to the architecture surrounding your home,” Adam debated. “You will stand out like a sore thumb if you venture too far from the established designs in Turtle Creek.”

  An uncomfortable silence filled the air, making Madison hide her sly grin by taking a sip from her drink. It seemed the arrogance Adam had shown her from day one had spilled over into his approach to architecture. With him more was better, and the biggest house on the block was obviously the best.

  “Well,” Pat Martin finally spoke up, glancing to his wife, “we have a lot to consider, don’t we, Stevie?”

  She smiled encouragingly at Adam. “It certainly would be the biggest on the block.”

  “You could see it from space,” Mike ribbed.

  “Okay.” Hayden patted Adam on the shoulder. “Why don’t you get something to eat while I talk to Pat and Stevie, all right?”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Parr.”

  Hayden dipped his head to Madison and nodded toward the dining room doorway, insisting that she join Adam. She gave him a weak smile, placed her drink on the edge of the table, and adjusted her purse under her arm.

  Adam waited off to the side for her, and as the two stepped toward the dining room doors, he placed his hand in the small of her back.

  “I think that went rather well.”

  The alcohol Madison had hurriedly downed was now urging her to speak her mind. She wanted to tell Adam what a mistake he had made with the Martins, but decided there was no point in deflating his overblown ego so early on in the evening; she would leave it to Hayden to handle Adam. After all, he was Hayden’s problem and not hers.

  Chapter 7

  As they entered the dining room, Madison glanced back at Hayden and the Martins. They were huddled together, engrossed in their discussion. With her sole objective for the party accomplished, she wanted to quietly slip out the door and hurry home. The nervousness of dealing with the Martins forgotten, she began to feel the annoying little pokes and twinges of her fitted dress and tissue-stuffed, high-heeled gold shoes. While she was picturing curling up with a good book in her warm ups and fuzzy slippers, Adam took her hand.