It's Not Over

by A. L. Zaun

  “Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.” I leaned up against the vanity, staring in the mirror. “Motherfucker!”

  Breathe, Madison, breathe.

  I closed my eyes and tried to slow my breathing, but all I could see were the words, ‘I’m generous and like to share’, taunting me.

  Get a hold of yourself, Madison.

  I splashed a little water on my face and dabbed it with a paper towel.

  Pull it together.

  I took a cleansing breath and steadied myself, crumbling the paper towel into a tight wad before dunking it into the trash.

  With my shoulders straight and chin up, I returned to the table. My chocolate truffle cake was sitting, untouched, waiting for me.

  “I’m sorry.” I sighed, resting my arms on Rick’s shoulders and facing my grandfather. “Something’s come up, and I have to take care of a little business.”

  Rick twisted in his seat, looking up at me. I gave his shoulders a quick, reassuring squeeze.

  “Grandfather, do you think that perhaps you and Rick can meet me at Mark’s in about an hour and a half? I’d love for Rick to have the tour he didn’t get last night.”

  “Madison,” Rick practically growled.

  “Is everything all right?” my grandfather asked, concerned.

  “Everything is under control,” I replied with a straight smile. “I’ll see you soon, and I’m so sorry about all of this.”

  I grabbed my coat and headed out. When I reached the door, an arm clutched me, turning me around. I stared straight into a pair of livid hazel eyes.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Rick, relax. I have to take care of some business. I’ll see you soon.”

  “The fuck you will. Where are you going?” he demanded, his brow furrowed.

  “Are you saying I won’t see you?” I asked with a steeled stare. “If that’s the case, let me know where you want me to send your stuff. I could throw it out the window or send it to Goodwill.”

  “Stop your bullshit,” he argued, placing both of his hands on my shoulders. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s work-related. I have to go,” I said matter-of-factly, wrapping my arms around his waist to calm him down. “I’ll see you in a little bit. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

  “You don’t fucking get it,” he growled through gritted teeth. “You came with me. You leave with me.”

  I buried deep inside the desire to scream, stifling the images of causing him physical pain. The sounds of the restaurant went silent. The movement of the people stilled. I was standing there with him. It was just the two of us. Everything had suddenly seemed easier twenty-four hours earlier. Then, I could have just sent him to hell or told him to go fuck off. I had to leave. Now, things were different between us. I didn’t want to be a total bitch with him. He mattered. I cared. I wanted this. I just didn’t know how to do it. I had to go.

  I breathed in deeply, stifling the impulse to push him out of my way. I glanced up, and our eyes locked. We stood there, like two morons staring at one another, trying to communicate something with our eyes. I needed him to give me space. He needed me to let him in. Around and around we went.

  “I get it. You don’t. Please…” I paused. “I’ll make it up to you.”

  I stood on my toes, reaching for his lips, but he turned his face. I stepped back, seemingly unaffected by his rejection, but a torrent of emotions washed over my body, drowning me.

  “This isn’t over, Maddy,” he promised, crossing his arms.

  “I hope not,” I whispered as I turned and walked out the door.

  I brought my arms around myself as the cold air pelted me with her heartlessness. The crispness was no longer invigorating. It was more like a punishment. I hailed a cab and looked back as I climbed in. He wasn’t standing by the door. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. I was ditching him in New York City. Yes, I knew he’d be upset, but I didn’t have a choice. I needed to deal with this.

  I’m sorry.

  Chapter 15

  Rick

  I stood there like a fucking pussy, watching Madison walk out the damn door. My eye started twitching, and I was convinced I was going to stroke out from the pressure mounting in my neck, strangling me, and the tightness in my chest, gripping my fucking heart.

  Madison didn’t lie, but that didn’t mean she always told the entire truth. While I subscribed to that type of telling the truth in general, it didn’t apply to us, not after last night.

  Fuck, I sound like a chick.

  My eyes were fixed on her like I was a fucking stalker. I shook my head as I studied the way she stood, hugging herself. I could have been doing that for her. The door opened, and a rush of cold air hit me as some customers came inside, blocking me.

  Fuck, can’t they tell they’re in my way?

  I stuffed my hands into my front pockets. She had been right as usual. I didn’t get it. I had no clue. One minute, everything was great, and then the next, she was bolting out of here. I didn’t really know what to think. I didn’t want to imagine she’d gotten a booty call, but it was a lingering thought. After all, that cocksucker kept reminding me how he had what she wanted and he was going to fuck her.

  Why doesn’t she want me to know where she’s going? Fuck.

  I ran my hand through my hair as the tension squeezed my shoulders, and a desire to hit something overtook me.

  She raised her arm, hailing a cab. The dick she had cut off grew back.

  There’s no fucking way she’s going to leave without me. Let her kick me out of the damn cab.

  Determined, I pushed past the new group that had walked into the restaurant. When I stepped onto the sidewalk, the cold air beat the shit out of me.

  Damn, it’s freezing.

  And then, she was gone.

  I rubbed my face, trying to stop my huffing as I attempted to snap out of my growing fury. The more I thought about it, the more pissed I got. My chest heaved as I stared at the street full of yellow cabs with their flashing red brake lights, wondering which one was hers.

  I could get on a fucking airplane and sit next to her, but I can’t get into a fucking cab.

  She’d left me—again.

  I wanted her. I wanted to kill her. I was fucking crazy about her. I was a fucking moron to want to be with her.

  Who does this shit?

  I felt a strong hand pat me on the back.

  “Women,” Mark said.

  That one word spoken by a man conveyed so much. I would never understand women. I sure as hell would never understand or come close to comprehending Madison, the woman I wanted to adore and strangle. No matter how much had changed, everything stayed the same. She drove me insane and pissed me off.

  I tilted my head to look at him.

  “You have a choice,” he told me, sounding wise. “You either break or get stronger.”

  Fuck. He speaks in Karate Kid lingo, too.

  “She cares about you.”

  “She has a shitty way of showing it,” I pointed out as we stood on the sidewalk staring straight ahead into the passing traffic.

  He laughed. “Where’s your faith in her? She had business. She’ll be back,” he reassured me.

  “You do realize that this doesn’t look good for her.” I raised an eyebrow in doubt.

  “If it looked good, then where’s the need for faith? Like I said, she cares for you, and that’s a very refreshing thing to see,” he pondered aloud. “Nelson will be here shortly. In the meantime, I’d like for you to help me with something.”

  “You do know that it’s cold out here and warm in there?”

  I looked at him as he rocked on his heels like a kid.

  “The action in life is found in discomfort.” He cocked his head to the side with an all-knowing grin that confused the fucking shit out of me. I barely understood Madison’s non-English. Now, her grandfather was at it, too?

  Nelson pulled up right on time. My hands were getting numb, and I was sure my face was
going to fall off. We climbed into the backseat.

  “I don’t mean any disrespect but I barely understand Madison’s riddles,” I admitted to Mark. “So, I’m going to need you to dumb it down for me.”

  “Nelson, let’s go to Mark’s.” He shifted in his seat toward me. “That took guts to say.” He took off his gloves and fedora hat. “Only a confident man could tell me to dumb it down. I like you, Rick. So, tell me, how long have you been in love with my granddaughter?”

  “I wouldn’t call it love—”

  “I would,” he interrupted.

  I winced. “Mark, I like you, and I appreciate what you’re trying to do right now, but Madison can’t keep doing this fucking shit to me. I won’t let her. She doesn’t fu—” I cleared my throat, stopping myself from dropping the F-bomb with her grandfather again.

  Shit, this is her fucking grandfather and one of my idols. Madison will kill me.

  I clenched my jaw and continued, “She doesn’t go somewhere with me and leave me after some mysterious call.” My imagination started running wild, flashing every possible scenario. “That’s fucked-up and doesn’t work for me.” I let out a deep sigh. Shit. “Pardon my French.” I lay my head against the headrest, closing my eyes in a failed attempt to wipe away the image of Maddy walking out of the restaurant.

  Mark laughed hard. I wasn’t sure if I should have been offended or not.

  “It was fucked-up,” he agreed.

  I opened one eye to see him smirking at me.

  “I also speak French. It can be our secret.”

  We sat silently as Nelson drove us through the busy streets of Manhattan to Mark’s. I’d just eaten, and I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to be near food. Supposedly though, a restaurant kitchen cured everything. I wasn’t sure if it would be safe to have me around sharp objects either. I might hurt someone. This man was as clueless as Madison when it came to how fucking pissed-off I was.

  She hadn’t gotten it, and she always got me. She’d cut off my fucking dick without batting an eye, and then she’d walked out the fucking door. But it was more than that. Last night, something had happened between us, and now she’d tossed it aside.

  I was a fucking pussy…but then again, I had no dick.

  “My wife would drive me bonkers as well,” Mark said, breaking the silence. “I saw the way the two of you interacted earlier, and it reminded me of how my wife and I used to be. The love of a good woman is hard to find, Rick. They all drive us mad. Some are worth the trip to the mental ward.”

  My words came back to haunt me. I’ll take a day of crazy with you over a lifetime of sanity without you.

  Could I take a lifetime of crazy versus a day of sanity? “She’s not easy,” I said flatly, running my hands through my hair.

  “If she were, she wouldn’t be worth the fight, and you’d be in Miami right now.”

  I knew all of that. None of it mattered. I had a bad feeling about all of this. Madison had had that look in her eyes once before—the day she’d told me to drive myself back before leaving with that motherfucker.

  If she’s with him…

  My jaw tensed, and my muscles tightened at the mere thought that the cocksucker had ruined our fucking perfect day.

  Nelson pulled around to the rear of the restaurant. We quickly got out and made our way inside through the back. The kitchen was impressive with its bright lights and stainless steel. The room was divided in various sections. White chef hats bobbed all around the room as the food was prepared and organized.

  Mark’s eyes scanned everything exactly the same way Madison’s did. I could see as his eyes darted from corner to corner that he was making mental notes. We approached the executive chef, Jean-Claude Duque, and Mark introduced me to the master of this domain.

  Mark led me to a back corner that offered the perfect view of the kitchen, right off to the side of Jean-Claude’s office. Pulling out a couple of stools, he motioned for me to sit down, and then he reached behind some books to pull out a deck of cards. Mark shared a brief history of the restaurant, adding a few nuggets no one would find online, while we played a friendly game of poker. The man was a genius and a damn good card player.

  “I brought you back here early for a couple of reasons,” he started, examining his cards. “I love Madison very dearly. She doesn’t always understand things. She wants to spearhead the opening of a restaurant, and it’s too much for her to do alone. She’s got two choices. She can do it up here with me, or if she insists on Miami, then she can do it with Alex.”

  At the mention of that cocksucker’s name, my hands bent the cards. My eyes shot up to his. The old man was studying me.

  “Why are you telling me this? I want her with me in Miami—end of story. I don’t want her near that motherfucker. No further discussion required.”

  “First of all, you already established you weren’t in love with her.” He put down a card and pulled another. “So, I’m not sure you’re a motivating factor. Secondly, Alex takes some getting used to, like an acquired taste, but he’s good at what he does, and they work well together.”

  I wasn’t sure I liked him anymore. “If I’m not a motivating factor, why are you telling me any of this? As you can see, Madison does whatever she feels like doing.” I looked at my cards impassively, not giving anything away, and then I returned my eyes to him. “And for the record, an acquired taste would be that wheatgrass garbage Madison likes to drink. That motherfucker is a predator.”

  He tilted his chin up just the way Madison did, and his eyes had that confident badass gleam. He laid his cards face down on the table. “She used to sit in that same spot when I played cards with her. She loved being in this kitchen while she did her homework. This was where she’d spent countless hours growing up. This was her dream. This is what she wanted. Everything is here. She needs to trust me.” He ran his fingers around the edges of the cards. “You don’t like Alex. As a man, I understand that. I’ve known him since he was born. His father is a dear and close friend of mine. Alex and Madison grew up together in this kitchen. They share history that you can’t deny.”

  This day couldn’t fucking get any worse. I straightened in my chair, squaring my shoulders. The twitching was starting again.

  Was he actually suggesting that Madison should be with that motherfucker?

  “I don’t know what you want from me,” I said, laying my cards facedown. A calmness came over me. Fuck, I’m having a heart attack. “I didn’t follow her to New York because I was chasing some chick. I don’t need to do that, so don’t underestimate me. I want her with me.”

  He picked up his cards again and sat back in the chair. “If you’re simply going to be parading through her bedroom”—he raised an eyebrow as he examined his cards—”then don’t interfere with her future.”

  “What on earth is that supposed to mean?” My breath quickened.

  He leaned forward on the table. “I want Madison to be happy. I’m doing my part to ensure that she’ll have everything she has ever wanted, even the one thing she doesn’t think she can have.”

  We stared each other down.

  “She’s happy with you. You make her smile, and that’s something I haven’t seen in a very long time. If you’re just…what’s the modern term?” He rubbed his chin, looking up, searching for the term before returning his glare. “The flavor of the month, then don’t stand in the way. If she tells you she has to take care of business, then let her do it.”

  “Don’t stand in the way of what?” I spit out. “That acquired taste? Because I will throw my body in front of oncoming traffic and kill that asshole if he lays a fu—finger on her. He’s not her future.”

  “Your jealousy is very telling. He’s probably not her future. She’s never looked at him the way she looks at you, and he’s a bit of a playboy.” He laid all of his cards on the table. He had a full house. “She doesn’t need to have her heart broken.”

  I felt the blood rushing through my body at a fast pace. This was n
ow definitely a heart attack or stroke. I started to feel a little light-headed. I kept my expression blank. My mind was focused on one thing only—Madison. I looked down at my cards one last time. He tipped his head, waiting for me to lay mine on the table.

  I laid down one card at a time, looking at him the entire time—nine of hearts, eight of hearts, seven of hearts, six of hearts. I held the last card in my hand. “I’m hers today. That’s all I can promise. I hope I’m hers tomorrow.” I laid the last card down—five of hearts. “Straight flush.”

  His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. After looking down at his watch, he got up. “Come on, I owe you a drink.” He pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen. “Now, the reason I brought you here—”

  I stopped him. “Mark, I might need that drink first.”

  He laughed. “You’re a good man, Rick.” He patted me on the shoulder.

  I just shook my head. Considering my competition, I’m a fucking prince.

  We made our way to the restaurant bar located off of the main dining room. Mark’s eyes again scanned the room, much in the same way mine would when I arrived at a nightclub. When we had walked in yesterday, the room was alive and bursting with the right energy. It was traditional and classic but with an element of trendy and sophisticated. Now, the room was quiet as the tables were being set and the final touches were being made before they opened.

  “I love the moment when we go from closed to open. Can’t you feel the excitement in the possibilities?” he asked, going behind the bar to pour me a drink. “The reason…” he began before sipping his own drink.

  I wrapped my hands around the glass of scotch, bracing myself for what he would say.

  “She shouldn’t have left you to take care of business.” He placed his drink down and leaned against the bar as though he was waiting for some response from me.

  I was taken aback by that comment after the entire sermon he’d just given me. I lifted a single brow suspiciously.

  “I know it sounds like I’m contradicting myself,” he added.

  I widened my eyes, staring at my drink. From my periphery, I watched him pick up his drink.