It's Not Over

by A. L. Zaun

“Maddy? Will you have dinner with me?” he asked sweetly.

  “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  “I’m working, and I have something called a life,” I responded with a little attitude. I didn’t want him to think I was easy.

  “I’ll be by at seven-thirty.”

  ***

  I pulled into my regular parking space and stared at the envelope. I blew out a deep breath, slumping back in my seat. The last two weeks since we had gotten back from New York had gone by in a blur. Rick and I had found a natural rhythm that worked for us. Every morning—except for the two when he traveled to Atlanta for work—we started our day with a run, just like we’d been doing for months. Then, true to form, he would set out to court me and convince me that he was serious about us.

  I closed my eyes, smiling as I thought of some of his attempts at being romantic. More often than not, they would include some flowery, and very cheesy declarations of my spectacular beauty and how the sun rose and set on my very existence. Somewhere in the midst of his bullshit, there had been sincere words that had gripped my heart and burrowed deeper into my soul.

  Flowers, chocolate cake, dinner, and lunch dates were part of his plan. He’d found his inner gentleman and impressed me with how quickly he had acclimated to months of lessons. He had been attentive, funny, and charming. Eventually, he would get exhausted of all of this. I was waiting for that moment when he would reach his threshold of putting on the act, and he’d decide if this was what he really wanted.

  I placed the envelope in my purse and took a couple of cleansing deep breaths. I really need to go back to yoga.

  Tonight was a big night for us. For starters, Rick was going to pick me up here and take me to meet his family for their famous dinner party. The small family gathering had turned into an over-the-top celebration in his honor for his career-making sale. The festivities had required a couple of weeks of planning and preparations. I’d never been more grateful for his mother’s need to create an excessive display of pride since it had given me time to get used to us before meeting the Marins. I’d heard enough stories from Rick and a comment from Dani during one of our post-yoga conversations to know that his family wasn’t exactly the easiest in the world—like my family hadn’t given me years of training on navigating family land mines.

  Then, there was the matter of the contents in the envelope.

  I was Madison Stuart and acting like an intimidated and insecure little girl. Get a grip, woman. I laughed at my own pathetic tendencies when I felt vulnerable, no thanks to Rick. I was ridiculous and couldn’t stand myself.

  I grabbed my things and headed up to work. Pushing through the door, I made eye contact with Bruce.

  “Hey, pretty boy. Come help a damsel in distress.”

  He bowed and rolled his arms. “Damsel in distress, my ass. More like, come hither, peasant boy, and bow to the queen.” Then, he grabbed my bags.

  “Thank you.” I tipped my head to him in a slight nod. “As long as we have the hierarchy correct, that works for me as well. Now, take that to my office. I need your help.”

  “I love being of service to you,” he responded with an edge of sarcasm, following me back to my office like a good employee. “I was looking over the menu you want to propose to the suits. I think we can really pull it off.”

  I put my purse away and looked up at him. “We need to sell the vision to them. If we can make Martini Bar more of an offshoot of Donovan’s, offering a less expensive yet equal quality menu, we can make our mark.” I came around my desk and unzipped the garment bag and handed the dresses to Bruce to hold. “We need a chef and the capital to fund one.”

  Silence.

  I tilted my head. “What?”

  “You want to talk about menus or dresses?” he asked, rolling his eyes.

  “Both.” I returned my gaze to the dresses, tipping my head to the side as I tried to figure out which one would look best for tonight’s event. “The big deal about the capital is that they want me to fail. They might give it to me in hopes that I’ll fall flat on my face, but they won’t want that to happen if I attach the Donovan’s name to it.”

  “We’re in the black,” he reminded me. “You haven’t had a down quarter yet. What’s the big deal?”

  I stood in front of the two dresses with my arms crossed over my chest and rubbed my chin with my fingers. Should I go with the simple yet elegant little black Valentino that falls right above the knee? It is definitely a red-carpet dress. Or the more chic Michael Kors one-sleeved draped Grecian, falling mid-thigh, in a buttery cream color? “So which one?”

  “What’s up with the dresses?” He shook his head.

  My eyes shot up to his. Rick was a sore subject. “I’m going to a party tonight.”

  “With that asshole?” He smirked. “I don’t know why you’re scraping the bottom of the barrel. You could do so much better than him.”

  “We’re good for each other.” I held up the shoes I was planning on wearing against the dresses. “The two of you need to grow up. Now, let’s move on.”

  This was much easier said than done. Bruce had proven himself to be invaluable to me and my mission. He saw the vision that I cast, and he was completely on board. His hostility toward Rick had grown into a full-fledged animosity after their altercation. Bruce didn’t like or trust him. Rick didn’t give a shit. For the most part, they now avoided one another as much as possible.

  “If we can’t get them to bankroll this expansion of yours, what are our options?” he asked.

  I rubbed my chin and chewed on my lip. “I need to get someone to finance this. I don’t have access to that type of cash. I need to be able to pay suppliers, a chef, and a kitchen crew. It’s a little more than deep-frying calamari or plating salads and dips.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Madison, give me a break. Our menu is slightly more complex than that, but I get what you’re saying. I just don’t think you need a new kitchen staff. You might be surprised at what they can pull together. We just need the food and updated menus. So, why are you complicating this?”

  “This is a big deal and a huge move.” I studied the dresses while trying to do the math in my head. “Alcohol is our biggest revenue maker. If I made this more of a dining experience, I’m taking a huge risk. Will our floor plan even allow it? There’s a lot to consider.” I grabbed the black dress from his hands. “I’m thinking this is it. It’s safe.”

  “Safe? That’s very unlike you,” Bruce said, surprised.

  “I’m meeting Rick’s mother.” I cleared my throat. “I’d like to be somewhat conservative.” I was looking down and straightening my pencil skirt. I tucked my hair behind my ears when I froze at the sound of the familiar, cold voice.

  “Good choice. Black is definitely a stunning color on you,” he whispered close behind me.

  My stomach dropped, and my eyes closed in ire as a cold chill swept through me.

  He brushed the hair off my shoulder. “I’m fascinated that your body responds to the simplest of things.”

  My eyes widened and flashed up to meet Bruce’s confused look.

  “And who are you?” Bruce asked. “This area is off-limits to customers.”

  “Alex Santana.” He laughed, extending his hand. “I’m not a customer. I’m her ticket to getting everything she ever wanted. If you play your cards right, you’ll be working for me before you know it.”

  Bruce’s expression was priceless. I’d have to remember to give him a bonus, time off, or let him give Rick a hard time for this. “Oh, you’re a suit. Not impressed.”

  Bruce took both dresses and the garment bag and left Alex not knowing what to do with his extended hand. Bruce then came up to me and said quietly, “I’d go with the lighter one. Don’t play it safe. Go big, or go home.”

  I smiled at Bruce and mouthed, Thank you.

  I turned on the balls of my feet, squared my shoulders, and held my chin high. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I scowled at Alex. />
  He tipped his head to the side and smirked as he sat in my chair. “I come in peace.” He waved a white napkin that happened to be on my desk. “Mark gave me shit for the hard time I gave your boyfriend. I’m here to make things up to you.”

  I crossed my arms in front of me and steeled my gaze. “Mark should have given you more than shit for your godforsaken behavior, and he would if he became privy to your actions. Too little, too late. I want nothing from you.”

  He sighed and pressed his lips in a flat line. “Your manners have gone to hell since you’ve been hanging around with that Neanderthal. You used to be so cultured and refined, so much like Rose. Now, you’re more like your mother.”

  Alex and I had played this game for so many years that nothing coming out of his mouth really surprised me or affected me. He would have to try harder to get a genuine reaction.

  I kept my face unaffected. “Is this your peace offering? Further insults?”

  He was, however, the last person I had expected to see today. Alex was always too calculating to just show up out of the blue.

  He sat back comfortably in my chair, rubbing his hands together. “A new offer. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting this type of hostility from you. I’m always available to help you work it out. You can consider it, for old time’s sake, one friend helping out another.”

  I stood by the door and motioned for him to leave. “Get out!”

  He was still the same person I’d grown up with—a cocky son of a bitch and an arrogant punk with a chip on his shoulder. I’d never really thought about my self-hatred until I saw him sitting at my desk with a smug smile on his face. He’d taunted and teased me for years about making me his conquest, and then one day, he’d succeeded. He’d waited for the perfect moment when I was at my lowest to make his move. He’d helped numb the pain, but it was more than that. For years, he had been the instrument of my self-imposed punishment. Now, he was doing the same thing again. He was a predator, staking out his next kill.

  Why?

  He straightened up in the chair and placed his elbows on the desk. “The powers that be want to give you a crack at the expansion. You don’t need to sit on my cock, but we do have to work together. So”—he extended his hand to me—”let bygones be bygones. We have a restaurant to build.”

  I crossed my arms. I didn’t trust him, but I couldn’t deny that I was curious to hear what he had to say. “What are you talking about?”

  “You can thank me when you’re done with your toy.” His eyes blazed with mischief, but his tone was amiable as though he and I were the best of friends. “I convinced everyone—Mark, Mason, and Patrick—that having you as part of the project was in the best interest of Donovan’s. You know the area and have the contacts, and your name carries weight.”

  My name carries weight? He was saying this now after everything he’d spewed at me, and after Mason’s petty attack, calling me a slut. What is he up to?

  “And I should believe you, why? You’re a liar and a manipulator.” I pointed to the exit. “Get your ass out of my office, and go to hell.”

  He got up with a flat grin and a gleam in his eye. “Verify it. I’ll be looking at some properties today and meeting with the architect tomorrow night for dinner at The Capital Grille. You’re welcome to join us.” He stood in front of me, waiting for a response, but he got nothing from me but an empty stare. “Mark and my father did this forty years ago. Now, it’s our chance to carve out our own legacy. Don’t let your feminine pride stand in the way of you making a name for yourself.”

  I stood statuesque, suppressing the bile rising in my throat as he ran his hand along my cheek. His head cocked to the side as he scanned my face.

  His lips brushed against my ear before he whispered, “You’re good at blocking your emotions. I taught you well. Tonight, when you’re fucking your boyfriend, you’ll let it all out.” He pressed his bulge against me. “Knowing I’ll be in bed with the two of you is pure satisfaction.”

  He pulled back from me with a malicious smirk. My palm twitched, wanting to smack it off of him, but I wouldn’t give him that pleasure.

  He continued, “Aside from all of that, you’re the future of Donovan’s. You’re the best there is, and together, we’re unstoppable.”

  I held back the hatred I was feeling and maintained an impassive stare. “You need to get your hearing checked. Let me repeat myself—go to fucking hell and get out of my bar,” I said flatly.

  “Madison, focus on the prize.” He turned and left.

  I watched Alex walk down the corridor, and I didn’t breathe until the front door closed behind him.

  Chapter 27

  Rick

  I tossed my keys to the valet. “Keep it up front. We’ll be down in a minute.”

  I jogged up the steps toward Martini Bar to pick up Madison, dodging the assholes that were in my way. I was running late—something Madison hated with a passion—but traffic was a bitch. Who on earth decided to have a party on a Friday night at eight? My mother.

  At first, the plan had been to have a casual dinner in my honor à la Marin style, of course, but that changed from one day to the next. We were now in a full-blown Maria Elena Marin production, requiring my mom to enlist her party-planning committee to send out invitations and book a caterer and a DJ, so she’d pushed the party back a couple of weeks.

  I actually considered this to be a blessing in disguise. This gave Madison a chance to get over her constant bullshit and power games. My sisters also needed a little time to get on board the Team MaRi train and let go of their fucking attitudes. It was actually perfect since they’d be on their best behavior. God forbid anyone witness them being bitches. I’d already gotten in a couple of fights with them over their unsolicited opinions.

  Have they always been this bad?

  And then…there was my mother.

  For the first time in a very long time, I couldn’t read her reaction. My strategy had been to tell her about Madison and me during our weekly lunch date, but my sisters and their ever fucking need to butt into my business had beat me to it. When I walked into the restaurant, she was already there, sitting at our usual table. She held the goblet of water in her hand, bringing it to her mouth as I made my way to her. She was the first woman I had ever loved, and she had set the true standard for me. She was powerful, brilliant, and fucking beautiful. Her dark hair had fallen softly on her shoulders, and her smile curved into a soft dimple. Her most striking feature were her green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. No one would ever know she was pushing sixty or slowing down by looking at her.

  My first clue should have been the fact that she had arrived before me and sat down. We always met at the door.

  “Ma,” I said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “You look absolutely beautiful today.”

  She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Hola, mi hijo.”

  Her eyes followed me as I pulled out the chair while undoing the button to my suit jacket before sitting down. “Sorry, I’m late.” I picked up the menu we both knew by heart.

  She started off joyfully. “I know you’re very busy. I’m happy you’re here.”

  Lunch proceeded as usual. She hung on my every word, laughed at my jokes, and beamed with pride at the perfect moments. As the discussion veered toward my celebration and her seating chart, I thought it was a perfect moment to bring up Madison. I wiped my mouth with the napkin and laid it on the table.

  I brought the glass to my mouth, telling her, “Make sure to seat Madison next to me at the table.”

  Her eyes shot up from her chart, and she rubbed her lips together. “You’re bringing someone?” She set her reading glasses on the table. “Enrique.”

  That was another clue to the direction of our conversation. She never called me by my name.

  “You’re a grown man. What you do in your private life is your business. Don’t bring it into mine.” She put her glasses back on and resumed her party planning as though I hadn’t said a thing. “Valentina
will sit next to you since your sisters will be with their husbands.”

  What the fuck had my sisters told her? “If Madison isn’t welcome, I’m not coming. End of story. So, you can put your seating chart away, call your people, and cancel everything. I don’t know what Tweedledee and Tweedledum, the reporters for The National Enquirer, have told you, but they’re off base.”

  She looked up and tilted her head. “Amor, don’t get upset.” She reached for my hand. “She means a lot to you.”

  My mom must have seen how what she said upset me. I could barely keep our eye contact. She’d never been like this before, and I didn’t really know what her reaction was all about. But it hurt. Did my mom and sisters have so little faith in me? Fuck, I stopped bringing my girlfriends around. The fact that I would be bringing someone should’ve had them excited, not going into this fucking lockdown.

  My mother nodded. “Then, I want to meet her, and I’ll take care of your sisters.”

  After we finished, I walked her to her car.

  She held my face in her hands. “I feel like I’ve been losing you for some time. You’re different in a good way even though you don’t come over as often.”

  I brought my arms around her, hugging her tightly.

  “You’ll always be my baby,” she said.

  “I love you, Ma,” I whispered. “I love her, too.”

  It mattered a lot to me that my family be on board and supportive of Madison and me. I knew if they gave her a chance, they would see the woman I’d fallen in love with. At the same time, I didn’t give a shit if they weren’t. My life was finally falling into place. I’d started the year on the wrong foot, but I’d quickly turned all that shit around. I was now living the dream. I had Maddy, a kick-ass job, and a misguided family—who, for better or worse, had my back.

  I pushed open the door at Martini Bar and through the crowd. The place was packed, loud, and electric. Madison was probably feeling heart palpitations from having to leave with so much going on here. My eyes connected with Nicki’s, who was surprisingly at the bar.