by Carr, K
“Madison?” Muffled from the other side of the door.
I stared at the wooden barrier between us. “Yes?”
“Are you okay in there? Was it too rough? Did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m fine,” I replied.
“Why are you still in there? I want to talk to you.”
Oh, shit. He wanted to talk. He was supposed to be shagging me senseless. I still had my freaking senses.
“I’ll be a minute, Matt,” I called, then went over to the cabinet and pulled out my hairbrush. Might as well look neat for the talk. As I brushed my hair, I pondered my new status. I could work with a crazy girlfriend title, a person can improve upwards from that. All I would have to do was resume my normal day-to-day life, and Matt would see it was the same old me.
Bunny boiler though. Once you got labelled with that title you were more likely to end up with a restraining order against you. I liked my clean criminal record.
It seemed I was taking longer than a minute because Matt knocked sharply on the door.
“What’s taking you so long?” he groused loudly.
“Just a minute, Matt,” I replied.
“You said that five minutes ago.” His tone was frustrated.
I put back my hairbrush, patted my cheeks, took off my sweaty t-shirt, then grabbed one of the robes hanging on the hooks. With shoulders back, I walked towards the door, ready to face him.
“Here I am,” I smiled brightly at his serious face as I finished tying the robe’s belt around my waist.
Matt took my hand and moved us over to the bed. He had put his pants back on. There was definitely no shagging me senseless in the cards. He sat me down, but didn’t sit himself, instead choosing to pace in front of me.
“What’s this about?” I asked casually.
“You,” he said in a flat voice.
“Me?” Did I sound nervous? “What about me, Matt. I’m fi—”
“Don’t.” He cut me off curtly. “Don’t tell me you’re fine. You’re not fine, and I can’t stomach hearing you say it again. You’re. Not. Fine.”
“But—”
“Stop right there. I’m going to do the talking and you can—no—will listen to every word I say. Agreed?”
I nodded. The expression on his face was the one I feared the most. The ‘I’ve had it up to here’ look.
“Right,” he muttered, then promptly fell silent. I opened my mouth to point out the fact he was going to do the talking, but was in fact not talking, when his gaze landed on my face.
I closed my mouth.
Matt took a deep breath, then said, “You need help, poppet—”
“No. I don’t.” A menacing glare had me biting my tongue.
“You do. Trust me, you do.”
“A bit condescending that, don’t you think?” I said, earning another cutting glare.
“Listen to me, young lady, you are going to get help to deal with your problems,”
“I don’t have a problem,” I shot back. I didn’t, not really.
Matt scoffed, arms folded as he stood in front of me. I blinked up at him and something shifted across his features. He unfolded his arms and knelt before me, nudging my legs open so he could get into my personal space.
“Madi, I am not a man who begs. It is not in my nature, you know this.” He cupped my cheeks between his strong hands. “I’ve seen a different side to you and it terrifies me, and I think, I know there are certain issues—”
“Is this because of yesterday?” I interrupted in a light voice as I forced a smile to my face. “Because if it is, you don’t need to worry, Matt. I’m fi—I’m ok now, really I am.”
Matt shook his head in disbelief. “Until next year, right? Until your next birthday and then you’ll do the same thing all over again. Does that sound ‘okay’ to you? Does that sound like something someone who is ‘fine’ would do?”
My skin felt itchy, uncomfortable. I jerked my head from his grasp and tried to push him away. I needed space, but he didn’t budge an inch.
“It’s nothing, Matt. Can we drop this? Please?” The itchiness was spreading, my head felt itchy, inside my head felt itchy. I didn’t want to talk about it. I was over it.
Being next to him made me claustrophobic. I tried to slide away this time, manoeuvring my legs upwards in an attempt to escape. That didn’t work either on account of him grabbing me around the waist.
“Can you let me go?” I said harshly. Matt gave me surprised eyes. I blinked a few times. I hadn’t meant to shout like that. He was making me uncomfortable with all this talk, making me remember that it was only yesterday that…
“Of course,” he murmured, releasing his hold on me and sitting back on his legs.
“I didn’t mean to shout,” I began. “I’m fine.”
Silence rolled between us. I stared at my clasped hands. Why was he pushing this?
“Do you love me, poppet?”
My gaze snapped up. “Of course, I do. You know I do.”
“Prove it,” he stated coolly. “I want you to prove it. I’ve proven to you, time and time again, exactly how much I love you. Now it’s your turn. If you love me the way you profess to love me, then I want you to speak to someone about this seemingly destructive cycle you’ve found yourself in. And by ‘someone’, I’m referring to a person with the necessary medical qualifications who can actually help you.”
I stared at him for a second. “That’s—I love you, Matt. I don’t have to prove how I feel about you. I always say it.”
“Actions speak louder than words, poppet.” He snorted. “And this is what I want you to do for me.”
I was starting to get angry. This was bullshit. “That’s emotional blackmail.”
“Then you should be used to it,” he said gently. “Because that’s what you’ve been doing to yourself.” He got off the floor and sat next to me on the bed, reaching for my hand. I clasped my hands tighter together so he couldn’t get one. Matt sighed.
“That’s not fair, Matt,” I whispered. “I’m fine and you’re making a big deal out of nothing. I’m not that crazy. Why are you acting like this?”
He sighed again.
“What if I don’t do this? What then?” I challenged. “What if I say no to your demands?”
Matt raised a hand to my jaw and tilted my head until our eyes met. “Then we’ll both know that I mean nothing to you; that all of this, that our relationship, means nothing to you. If you say no, then you’ll be proving that the love you say you have for me is worthless, because I haven’t asked one thing of you, Madi, not really. But I’m asking you to do this. For me. For us. I won’t stand by and watch you put yourself through this again, that I won’t do. Prove to me you love me, Madison.”
“That’s not fair, Matt,” I argued, feeling moisture seeping into my eyes. Goddamned bastard was not going to make me cry.
“Life isn’t fair, poppet. You of all people should know that,” he replied blandly, but the emotions in his eyes were too raw for me to maintain our gaze.
Talk about an ultimatum. I wasn’t just a crazy girlfriend. I was a crazy girlfriend whose boyfriend thought she needed professional help.
“What’s your answer?” he pressed.
“Give me a minute,” I snapped, jumping to my feet. “You’re basically calling me bat-shit crazy. I mean, I know I act silly sometimes but I’m not insane. You’re implying there’s something wrong with me. There isn’t. I just have my own way of dealing with things.”
“What’s your answer?” His tone had lowered.
“It’s insulting when you come to think of it. Saying a person needs to see a shrink when they don’t. I’m fine, Matt.”
“I need an answer from you,” he said. Like a freaking heartless robot. Why was he doing this to me?
“It’s not going to change anything. This is ridiculous—”
Matt stood up quickly, so quickly I almost got a face-full of chest. “No, Madison. Ridiculous is you being an emotional wreck yesterday a
nd happy as a lark today.” He gripped me by the shoulders and shook me slightly. “That’s not normal. Not by a long shot. I love you, and I promise you won’t have to do this alone, but goddamn it…if you don’t do this…I’m asking you, poppet. Will you do this for me?”
I was holding my breath, and I didn’t realize it until my lungs burned from lack of oxygen. When I thought about, he was kind of right. I mean what had he asked of me? To attend family dinners and charity balls? To not get stressed over the stupid media? To let him shower me with expensive trips and gifts? To let him love me the way he wanted to?
He hadn’t asked much of me, had he? Why did it have to be this though? Stupid gazillionaire.
“Okay,” I mumbled softly.
“Beg pardon? What?” he asked, releasing his grip on my shoulders to cup my face.
“I said okay,” I half-yelled in frustration. “But I don’t want anyone to know. I get to choose when and how and where. I don’t want you bossing me around and deciding how this is going to happen. And I want a handwritten apology from you when it’s proven that I am fine. And you have to promise to—I don’t want to—don’t make me go alone. Please, Matt. I don’t think I can—mmph.”
Matt was kissing me, kissing me senseless. Which was a good thing because I was absolutely terrified of what I had agreed to.
He tipped us on top of the bed.
“Didn’t we just do this?” I groaned as his nimble fingers made short work of the tie around my waist.
“Not exactly.” He nibbled my ear lobe. “That was to take the edge off weeks of celibacy. Now I’m going to shag you senseless.”
And he did, oh boy, he did. Afterward, we lay cuddling. Matt rose up to check the time.
“It’s eight forty-five, poppet. Do you want to go down for breakfast?”
I shook my head, and Matt relaxed against the pillows, twirling my hair around his fingers.
“Do you think I was made for you, Matt?” I asked in a voice that sounded drugged. I couldn’t move if my life depended on it. My senses had been shagged into oblivion. Hopefully they returned soon.
“Mhmm,” he murmured. “Didn’t I just finish demonstrating what a perfect fit we are?”
I laughed, then yawned and snuggled closer to him.
“Tired?” he queried, burying his face in my hair.
“Lacking energy more like. Are we lazing about all day?”
“You can, poppet. I need to get some work done today. In fact—” He shuffled around, gently lifting me off his chest and propping me over the pillows. “I should be in the office checking emails right now to be honest. I have a backlog of reports from the past couple of days that need going through, and I need to make a few international conference calls.”
Matt was always working. I felt extremely guilty for being the cause of him taking time off work the past couple of days.
“Do you have enough energy to join me in the shower?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows at me in a suggestive manner.
I raised up an arm and let it fall back to the mattress, like deadweight. Matt chuckled and pressed a soft kiss over my forehead before climbing out of bed.
“Fine then, keep my side warm, poppet. I’m going to have a shower, spend a few hours in the office, then come back to bed.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I murmured, snuggling under the duvet covers and closing my eyes.
“Poppet,” Matt said.
I cracked one eye open. “Mmm?”
“You know I only want what’s best for you, don’t you?”
I cracked the other eye open, too. “I know.”
“You know you can depend on me for anything,” he continued.
“I know, Matt.”
“You also know that I will hold you to your word about what we discussed before—”
“Before you shagged me senseless?” I teased, wanting to get him off this topic. Man. I agreed to get help, didn’t I? What? Did he think I would back out…okay, I was already thinking of ways to back out.
Matt was scrutinizing my face like a hawk and his eyes narrowed into unhappy slits of grey. “Poppet,”
“Stop reading my mind.” I pulled the duvet over my head to hide my face.
“Humph.” He huffed. “It’s happening, Madison. I’m giving you two weeks to sort it out. Two weeks to research the options available to you.”
“Two weeks?” I mouthed under the duvet. The man was ridiculous. How on earth did he expect me to do that? I knew Matt was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it, but what the hell? I was freaking fine. I felt fine today. So yesterday was bad, really bad…my mind automatically shied away from dwelling on it, instinctively flashed an ‘it’s over, do not go there’ warning, and I froze under the duvet. Oh God. Was he right about me? Was this not normal? I’d done this for so long, it felt like normal to me. I flew up into a sitting position, eyes wide with confusion. Matt observed my crestfallen face and came back to the bed in quick strides.
“Forget what I said, poppet,” he said. “There’s no time limit. We’ll go at your pace. Ignore me. I’m a bossy bastard who should keep his mouth shut.”
I was too dazed to realize Matt had verbally admitted his bossiness.
“Am I ill?” I asked quietly. “Do you think I’m crazy?”
He hedged a bit, pondering his words before saying as calmly as possible, “I think you have repressed a lot of things concerning your parents’ death but, with the right help, you’ll be fine. I promise you.”
I nodded wordlessly, then went back under the duvet. I heard Matt sigh loudly before he walked away to his shower.
I was officially in the bunny boiler bracket, or whatever version of it that didn’t include trying to kill your ex. Madison DuMont, crazy ass black chick.
<><><>
“I’ll take that in for you, George,” I offered the surprisingly fit butler. He moved around agilely for someone of his age. “You can wait in the studio for me.”
George’s mouth tightened, barely. He was gripping the tray which carried Matt’s lunch of tea and a sandwich. “I’m not sure that would be the most efficient use of my time, Ms DuMont.”
“I need your objective opinion on my solo variation. Matt’s busy. Plus, think of how good you’ll feel knowing you were there to witness the first dance session in the studio. Come on, I’ve been in there for a few hours and you haven’t stopped by once.”
He rolled his eyes. George actually rolled his eyes at me. I gripped the other sides of the tray and we had a careful tug of war for a few seconds.
“You know how clumsy I am with trays,” I warned. “Let go or it might fall. These cups look expensive.”
“It’s because I know how clumsy you are I’m not letting go,” he retorted in his stiff voice. I tugged a bit harder and he finally let go. I grinned at him and we walked out of the kitchen, me balancing the tray between my hands with George watching my every step.
When we got to the door of Matt’s office, George turned the doorknob for me. I jerked my head towards the glass wall in front of us. “Go wait for me, please. I’ll be right there.”
George scowled, but he did head for my new space. In Matt’s house. I had keys. To Matt’s house.
I edged the door open with my foot. Matt was pacing in front his desk. Wow. I’d never been in his office before. The décor was very much what you would expect of someone like Matt. Neat, clean, crisp lines of furniture, filing cabinets that looked trendier than the one in my office. Flat screen TV.
I stopped checking out the office and checked out my man instead. He was speaking in French. His tone sounded annoyed, and the voices coming through the state of the art telephone sounded meek.
Matt picked up his tablet and ran a finger over it, obviously reading something, then let out a stream of French words. I was sure one of them was a cuss word. It sounded like a cuss word.
I walked further into the office and Matt looked over at me. A small smile pulled the corners of his mouth up as I tiptoed towa
rds his desk. I put the tray down and turned to make my way out. Matt leaned over his desk and pressed a button.
“Thanks, poppet.”
I stole a kiss and left him to it, closing the door on his irate French words. George was waiting in the studio, unhappily it seemed. It was midday, and I didn’t know what he was complaining about. What else was he going to do with his time?
I went over to the sleek and narrow fixture in the corner that held numerous pairs of ballet shoes and changed the ones I already had on to pointe shoes. Matt had thought of everything. I glided to the centre of the space and positioned myself in preparation to start my moves.
“Your music, Ms DuMont?” George queried.
I waved the question away. “I’ve heard it so many times, George, it’s on constant replay in my head. Remember, I want your honest opinion.”
I danced. I danced like I was alone. Just me and the air I moved through.
When I finished, George unfolded his arms and said, “Your proficiency is of a high calibre.”
“You like it,” I said, satisfied, maybe a little smug. I pulled the edge of the large t-shirt back on my shoulders. It was Matt’s. He was busy with work, and it was my way of having him close to me. Never mind he currently stood by the glass wall separating his office from the studio indulging me in a supportive round of applause. He looked great in that light sweater and casual dress pants. A bit much for staying at home, but hey.
“I am sure many would find it enjoyable to watch, Ms DuMont.”
“You like it,” I repeated, grinning from ear to ear. George huffed before turning on his heels and exiting the space, my space. I ambled over to the end of the large room where I could see into Matt’s office. He was about to take a seat behind his desk, attention on the paperwork in front of him with a tiny scowl on his mouth.
I tapped on the glass and he looked up at me. I turned around and lifted the bottom of his t-shirt to flash my leotard-covered ass. When I turned back around, he pointed in the direction of his door, then to me. I grinned and hurried out of the studio to meet him; knew that would make him leave his office.
“Hi,” I said as he closed his office door behind him.
“Hello,” he replied, fighting a smile.