by A. L. Zaun
“If this is part of some sadistic joke, I won’t hesitate to string you up by your balls and have you die a slow and painful death,” she threatened, reaching for the box and clutching it in her hand.
I nudged her softly. “Open it, babe.”
“We’re going to be late.” Her tone was flat, but her lip quivered, giving her away.
She loved it when I gave her things, and if they were surprises, it was even better. It didn’t have to be big. I could give her paper-clip art, and she’d display it on her desk proudly. Spoiling her had become a favorite pastime of mine. Underneath her titanium exterior beat a big heart.
I swiveled in my seat and tapped her leg. “I don’t care if we’re late. They’ll survive.”
She held the small box in her hands and ran her fingers along the ribbon. “For me?” She glanced over, her eyes crinkling. “What a surprise.” She chewed on her bottom lip as her fingers busied themselves, unwrapping the box.
“I wanted you to have something to let you know I was thinking about you,” I said.
Her excitement genuinely returned. She flipped open the box to reveal a Pandora bracelet with three charms. She held it in her hands as though she were holding a priceless piece of art.
I started explaining, “A cake charm because that’s when I knew what I had to do. A pink charm because contrary to what you want the world to think about you, you’re a girlie girl even if you only let me see it, and an airplane because……” I let my expression become serious, so she’d know my feelings without a shadow of a fucking doubt. “I’m not letting you go.”
She sniffed and batted her eyes. “I never would have pegged you as a sentimental guy. I love it.”
I took the bracelet from her hand, and she looked up at me.
“And I love you,” she said.
“At the risk of sounding like a sappy chick on her period, I love you, mi amor, tesoro, y corazón. I’m going to fill this up for you with our memories.”
I clasped it around her wrist. When I looked up, she grabbed my face and kissed me like she fucking meant it.
We sat in the car for a few minutes with our foreheads pressed together when my phone started buzzing, bringing us both out of our haze.
Liz: Where are you?
Me: On our way.
I turned on the car. “We good?”
She nodded her head. “Yeah,” she said in a low and tender voice. “Better than good.”
I pulled into traffic. We’d be a little late, but that was fine. I preferred making a grand entrance anyway. I held her hand as we drove, smiling as I occasionally looked over at her. The last couple of weeks had been awesome. The Madison Stuart School of Castrating Rick was closed for business. She clearly understood my role as the man in the relationship, and I treated her like a queen. She’d stopped giving me as much of a hard time with the exception of a few occasions, but even then she would quickly come to her senses. Being a smart woman, she picked her battles. I let her win on occasion to even out the playing field, but I usually got my way.
That was the shit I had been telling Chris these past couple of weeks when we met up to play basketball. He’d been applauding me as a living legend—the man who had tamed Madison Stuart. The truth was that she owned me completely, and it was a fucking awesome life. I’d learned to pick my battles, too. On occasion, she’d let me win even though it was fucking painful for her, but she knew our relationship had to have a give and a take.
Chris hadn’t bought the bullshit. He explained that we were in the honeymoon phase. He said he would believe it in a couple of months if we were still together, which he doubted. In his opinion, I had commitment issues and would be doomed to a life of solitude and meaningless sex, and Madison was Teflon—nobody ever stuck to her. He didn’t get it, and I didn’t give a shit. What we had was real.
Chapter 28
Madison
My chest tightened when he turned down the quiet tree-lined street. Rick squeezed my hand and looked over at me with a wink. I squeezed back and smiled confidently.
What’s the big deal? I’d been to hundreds of parties and social events. I knew how to handle myself. My grandmother had taught me the art of small talk and social pleasantries. I understood the importance of posture when entering a room, and I was fluent in body language. After my grandmother had passed away, I’d accompanied my grandfather to more than a dozen high-profile events with power players. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to wipe the memory of some of those players who had effectively become lovers, if only for a night. Oh, the stories I could tell.
Yes, I knew how to work a room and a crowd and how to make things happen. I’d had nothing to gain or lose in those situations. I simply had to show up, smile at the right moment, laugh at the flat joke, and know the perfect moment to escape the boredom with a good restroom fuck.
Mindless sex. Sex for sport. Sex for fun. A simple fuck. No attachments. No emotional connection. A physical need. A physical want. Lust—I’d only used sex to forget the pain when I let myself feel.
Alex was wrong. He wouldn’t be in bed with us tonight or any night. A five-mile run and a Bikram yoga class had worked out those hostilities. Tomorrow, I would tell Rick about my unexpected visitor and how everything I’d worked for had been handed to me. Tonight was all about him and us.
The quiet street took on a life, decorated with parked cars and decked-out partygoers walking alongside them.
Rick pointed while holding the steering wheel, telling me, “That’s where we’re going.”
There it was—the Marin family home.
Suddenly, there was no air in the car, and I needed to take a deep breath. I clamped my hand closed, fisting it on my lap under my purse. I had everything to gain and lose. Rick’s family was important to him. They were a tight-knit clan. That thought petrified me, but it was also a source of envy.
Pull it together.
“Valets?” I asked, nodding my head. I was fascinated that valets were needed for an event at a private residence. I was trying to think about anything else. You can do this. You’re Madison Stuart.
“It’s a necessity,” he said as he drove around them. He waved as he pulled into the gated driveway that opened up to an elegant two-story Spanish-styled house. The landscaping was artistically manicured with impressive lighting.
“But we get VIP parking.” He parked between a Range Rover and a Mercedes SUV. Swiveling in his seat, he ran his fingers along my arm. I rested my chin on my shoulder, looking at him, and our eyes met.
“This is your night, but the rules still apply,” I said coyly, though my heart was in my throat. “Embarrass me or revert to some prehistoric likeness to your old behavior, and—”
“You’ll cut off my dick,” he said, finishing my sentence. “The only thing is that you love my dick too much to do anything drastic.”
“That overconfidence and cockiness of yours will be your downfall,” I said dryly, looking away from him.
He reached for my hand. “You nervous?” He placed a light kiss against my knuckles. “They’re going to love you, just like I do.”
“No, not nervous at all,” I lied. I’d learned how to be an actress and hide my feelings, for the most part, but Rick could somehow see through my act.
He squeezed my hand. “You have nothing to worry about. Tonight is all about me.” He turned off the car and came around to open the door for me. “Look around. We’re in Rick country. Trust me, I rule here. No one is even going to notice you. All eyes will be on the prince.”
“You’re an idiot.” I laughed as he closed the car door behind me. “Now, I’m worried about you regressing. Make no mistake, I have no problem calling Bruce to pick me up if you start acting like a moron.”
“Hey, no mentioning that asshole’s name. That was a low blow.” He brought his arm around my shoulder and placed a kiss on my head.
I breathed in the crisp night air and admired the Marin home. The palm trees adorning the perfectly manicured lawn were w
rapped in Christmas lights, and soft music played as we walked up the brick driveway leading to the impressive Spanish-styled estate home. His mother had certainly created an enchanted evening.
“It’s a perfect night for your party,” I commented absently, walking with him up the steps to the front door.
Stopping in front of the door, Rick turned to me and tipped up my chin. “It’s perfect because you’re here.” He lowered his mouth over mine for a chaste but emotion-filled kiss.
“I’m going to need a glass of wine to go with that cheese,” I teased, butterflies swarming in my stomach.
I closed my eyes for a moment even though he’d pulled back. When they fluttered open, I found him staring at me.
“I—” he started to say.
“Ahem, excuse me,” said a female at the opened door.
Our gaze swiveled to the petite brunette with straight, long hair in a form-fitting, little black dress. Her nose crinkled when she smiled, and a dimple popped. This has to be one of his sisters.
“Hi.” She stuck out her hand, and we shook. “I’m Liz, his favorite sister.” She smiled, retracting her hand. “You’re Madison. It’s nice to meet you. I need to get something from my car.” She turned to Rick and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Hurry up, Mom’s waiting for you out back.”
I shifted to watch her scurry down to her car as she tugged on the hem of her very short dress.
Rick leaned in and whispered, “One down. She’s nervous.” He confidently grabbed my hand. “Come on.”
The Marin estate was a lovely home. Being part of the Miami elite, I would say it was in line with other homes of the same caliber. It wasn’t overstated or ostentatious. It had marble floors, high ceilings, and top-of-the-line furnishings. An eclectic collection of traditional and modern lines gave it a unique and warm but trendy feel. My eyes gravitated to the art on the wall. I was sure they were local artists. Everything was tasteful and elegant. The floor-to-ceiling glass along the back wall allowed us to see that the party was in full force. Tables and chairs were draped with white linens, servers wearing black slacks and vests weaved between the guests awkwardly, and happy faces were laughing and talking with one another.
Rick laced his fingers with mine, leading me through the house and into the kitchen that opened up into the family room. The layout, cabinets, and professional appliances were a designer’s wet dream. I could feel my mouth salivating. My eyes followed the caterers who were busy plating trays. I wasn’t sure what else they were trying to do as they crowded over one another. I felt a twitch in my hand, wanting to straighten a server’s jacket and tighten up the workflow.
Mind your own business, Madison.
The glass-plated French doors opened, and the music and chatter from outside poured into the room.
Rick’s hand tightened around mine. “Ma,” he called out to the elegant woman wearing a knee-length burgundy wrap dress.
She came over to him with open arms that wrapped around him. “Mi principe, I’m so happy to see you.” After placing a kiss on his cheek, she turned and reached for my hands. “Madison, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to our home,” she greeted me before kissing me also.
“The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Marin,” I said politely, exactly as I’d been taught. I added a soft smile and a tilt of my head. “Thank you so much for inviting me. You have a beautiful home.”
“You’re very welcome. Thank you for coming, and please call me Maria,” she said graciously.
Our eyes connected for a moment. I knew how to read people. Rick was right earlier when he’d said his sister was nervous, and at that moment, his mother and I were reading each other. Her gaze shifted quickly to Rick and back to mine with a smile. She was coming to her conclusions about me.
Just then, Rick’s arm snaked around my waist, closing the distance between us, and he placed a kiss in my hair. “I love you,” he whispered.
My eyes danced to meet his before returning his mother’s gaze.
Without missing a beat, Rick said to me, “Come on, I want you to meet some people.” He turned to his mom and kissed her cheek. “Save me a dance.”
Just as we were about to walk through the door, he turned around. “Ma.” He smiled warmly. “Thanks. This is off the charts.”
She looked at him and then at me, and she smiled with pride.
He placed his hand on the small of my back, leading me out the door. “You can breathe now.”
And I did.
***
To say that Maria Marin could throw a party was an understatement. The evening was, for lack of a better word, enchanting. The trees were wrapped in twinkling lights. The music was perfectly timed. We danced, mingled, and ate. Rick worked the crowd. He was right about what he said earlier—we were in his country. I thought the poster-sized pictures of him strategically placed throughout the patio and pool area were excessive—as if his ego needs any further boosting. But overall, it was so exquisitely done that the extravagant nature of the whole thing didn’t seem tacky.
I sat back in my chair with my arm on his shoulder, watching the crowd around us. With his hand on my leg, he leaned forward and listened to his friend’s story. The table broke out in laughter, and my heart warmed for Rick.
“Are we telling stories about Rick?” Chris asked as he pulled up a chair next to me. “Hello, gorgeous. You’re not tired of this loser yet?”
I placed a hand on Rick’s back. “Nope. He’s kind of grown on me. Where’s your ball and chain?”
Chris cleared his throat. “We’re just friends…with benefits.” He reached over to shake Rick’s hand. “Dude, this is kick-ass. I’m mostly impressed with the Rick slideshow on repeat.”
“Fuck you.” Rick laughed. “I’m glad you made it.”
“Where else would I be? Free food, free drinks”—he raised his glass—”and great music.” He leaned over to me. “You guys look good together. I pretty much gave you two the shelf life of a loaf of bread, but what the fuck do I know?”
“Chris, you’re such a moron.” I shook my head and shoved him playfully.
“Yes, I am. I’m also a fully functional man,” he responded before finishing his drink.
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll take your word for it.”
I didn’t know how, but in spite of everything Rick had done, he and Chris had moved on. In fact, they were tighter than ever.
The DJ started playing a mix of Nelly’s “Just a Dream” when Rick grabbed my hand and playfully pulled me out to the dance floor.
“Dance with me.” He grinned, moving his body to the beat of the music.
He was in his element and on top of the world, and I wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment forever. He raised his hands, dancing as he pressed his body against mine. His friends followed suit, crowding around us.
Servers came out with trays filled with flutes of champagne, handing them to us. The music slowed, and then the dance floor cleared. His mother hadn’t stopped entertaining. She periodically glanced over and smiled at him throughout the evening. Now, she was standing by the DJ with a glass in one hand and the microphone in the other. Meanwhile, his father was off by the pool with a group of men. They were all smoking cigars and holding their drinks.
“Okay, babe” —Rick took my hand and led me back to our table— “my mom is famous for her toasts. She does this all the fucking time. My sisters and I just laugh about it.” He raised his glass to them. “I learned from the best. Listen, and be prepared to go into a sugar coma.”
“I’d like to make a toast.” His mom got the crowd’s attention as she raised her glass. “To my son, Rick, I love you. We’re all very proud of you. Cheers.”
Cheers rang out, and glasses clinked.
Rick’s lips curled, but his eyes fell. “Well, that was—”
“Perfect,” I interrupted. “Sweet and to the point.” I placed my hand comfortably on his thigh. “A perfect complement to this gushing show of adoration around us. It’s like that exq
uisitely brewed cup of coffee at the end of a meal. The bitter roast pulls together all the flavors.”
His stony expression softened. “You’re perfect. But if you say that word again, I’m going to think you’re selling it to me, or you’re drunk.” He tapped my nose.
“I am perfect,” I said with confidence as I straightened in my chair. “You need to keep that at the forefront of your brain. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go to the powder room.”
I pushed back from the table when I felt the chair moving from behind me.
“My lady,” Chris said, jokingly chivalrous. Then he shook his head and chuckled. “I can’t believe people used to talk like that. Thank God we’re civilized now. Anyway, I’m out of here. Marin, this was awesome. I’ll see you on the court next week.”
He and Rick shook hands.
“Come on, Mad, I’ll walk with you,” Chris offered, extending his elbow for me to take.
I walked alongside Chris toward the house, engaging in small talk.
“I’m glad you came,” I said as we approached the doors to the family room.
“Marin’s not a bad guy. He just does some pretty fucked-up things.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know how to be a friend if Lucas had written me off for some of the shit I’d pulled. I know what it’s like to fuck up.”
He opened the door for me, and we entered the house, making our way to the hallway leading to the bathroom.
“I also wanted to thank you for the referral.”
“Excuse me?” I asked with my brow pinching.
“Madison, come on, I didn’t say anything in front of everyone because of the big reveal, but now it’s just us…” he said with a wink.
I shook my head, confused.
He threw his hands out like it was obvious. “Hello? Donovan’s! How the hell did you land that? And fuck yes, I want to be involved in the marketing.”
My stomach dropped.
He continued, “Yeah, I got a call today from your business partner, Alex Santana.”
Then, my heart stopped. “What did he say?” I asked, stunned. My mouth went dry, but I played it off with, “We’re still in talks.”