Madison smiled at her new friend. “Thanks.”
“What about the kids?” Jen asked. “You did this for them and we already know they’re not overly fond of Jackson. What if Jackson doesn’t want anything to do with them? They’re not the easiest kids to get along with. I should know.”
Madison inspected the wine glasses for spots before placing them next to the china. “I thought of that, too. I had a heart to heart with all of the kids. Even Adam and Erin agreed to meet with him. I have a dozen children from CFC coming here on Saturday for a barbecue. It might take Jackson some time, but I have complete faith in him. He’s a great guy with a big heart. He just needs to learn how to open up and allow himself to care about people again.”
“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Jen said. “I couldn’t bear it.”
Pam looked at her watch. “Come on, Jen, let’s get out of here. Loverboy should be home any minute now and we don’t want to ruin the surprise.”
Glancing at her watch, Madison felt her heart thumping against her chest at the thought of finally telling Jackson that she loved him.
“By the way,” Pam said, “that dress is perfect. It’ll knock him dead!”
Madison did a pirouette, her short black dress floating high above her knees.
“You look great,” Jen agreed. “And I hope you know I only wish you the best.”
Smiling, Madison walked her friends to the door. As soon as they drove away, her insecurities hurdled forward and she found herself wondering if Jen was right. Was it too soon? Was she committing relationship suicide?
~~~
Jackson reread the contract in front of him for the third time, but his concentration level was less than zero. He was used to working twelve hour days without missing a beat, but lately he found himself glancing at his watch well before six. Through his office door he saw his assistant getting ready to call it a day. Before Madison started working at L & L, he used to keep his door shut. Not anymore. Now he left it open, hoping to get a glimpse of her if she happened to walk by or bring him a file courtesy of his brother, Jamie.
He tapped the end of a pencil to his chin. Madison was right when she’d warned him two months ago that he might not want to let her go. He never would have guessed that the thought of living without her would make his insides twist and turn. The truth of the matter was, he’d never been happier.
He rubbed his temple. Time was running out. He needed to talk to Heather, tell her he couldn’t fulfill his end of the bargain. More importantly, he needed to tell Madison the truth about his part in all of this.
She wouldn’t be happy about it.
She’d be good and mad at him for not telling her the truth sooner. But if she’d give him a chance to explain, he could only pray she would understand.
“Happy Birthday, Jackson!” Sheila exclaimed as she breezed through the door unexpectedly.
Jackson came to his feet.
Sheila came rushing around his desk so she could wrap her arms around his neck. “It’s been too long,” she said. “I’ve missed you.”
The sweet smell of her perfume brought back old memories, mostly of empty moments and meaningless nights. An urge to apologize for those wasted years swept over him. He stepped back. “You look good, Sheila. How have you been?”
“I’ll admit, I’ve been better.” She forced a smile. “I’ve been thinking about you all day…all month, in fact. Make that two and a half months.” The look in her eyes told him she was hoping he would say he felt the same. When he said nothing, she sighed. “I was hoping you would let me take you out for a drink, for old time’s sake.”
He thought about Madison and how he wanted to get home to her. But then he remembered her telling him she was going out with the girls tonight. He hadn’t wanted to spoil her fun by telling her it was his birthday, so he’d said nothing.
“I want to apologize for making a scene at your wedding.” She put a hand on his arm. “I just always hoped…”
“I should have told you first. I’m sorry. ”
Her cherry red lips parted into a smile. “Then you’ll join me for a drink? You owe me that much.”
He couldn’t help but wonder if she was up to something. He wasn’t the trusting type. And that thought, too, made him think of Madison because she had told him he needed to trust people--learn to open up.
“You’re welcome to invite your wife,” Sheila added.
“She’s out with friends tonight.”
“On your birthday?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Same old Jackson, I see. Well, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Just one drink, I promise.”
He shut off his computer, and then picked up the phone and dialed home. The last thing he was in the mood for was having a drink with Sheila, but hell, he thought, it was his birthday, and besides, Madison would understand. She always understood.
“The line’s busy. She must be home, after all.” The thought cheered him immeasurably. “Why don’t you follow me in your car? We’ll stop by the house to pick her up if she’s there. Maybe her friends cancelled.”
As he retrieved his jacket, he realized how much he’d changed in a few short months. For the first time in years he wasn’t living contract to contract. Instead he was living day to day, moment to moment. For the first time in his life, he felt content.
~~~
Madison dimmed the lights, put on a Kenny G CD, and glanced at the table she’d set. Everything looked perfect: candles, chilled champagne, flowers, music.
Picking up the small gift she’d wrapped and topped with a bow, she pretended he just walked into the room. “Here you are, darling. Happy Birthday. I love you.” She wrinkled her nose. That wouldn’t work at all.
She cleared her throat and started over. Opening her eyes wide, she held out the box for him to take. “Happy Birthday, Jackson. I love you and here’s a small gift. It’s nothing really, just a little something to show you how I feel.”
She set the box on the table, exhaled, and fidgeted with the sleeves of her new dress, a sensual body-conscious dress with ruffled tiers tumbling down the hem. It was sheer black with a wide scooped neck.
Maybe she shouldn’t try so hard. Just let the evening take its course. When the right time presented itself, she could tell him how she felt. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway caused her pulse to quicken.
She took a deep breath.
When she heard the jingle of keys, she clasped her hands together and turned toward the door. Only it wasn’t Jackson who walked through the door. It was Sheila, the same woman who had shown up at their wedding, and she looked like a million bucks.
Why would Jackson bring her here to their house? But it wasn’t their house, she reminded herself. It was his house and he’d thought she would be gone tonight.
Jackson followed Sheila in, chuckling over some amusing tidbit shared between just the two of them. Sheila let out a small cough in an obvious attempt to catch Jackson’s attention, no doubt to let him know the jig was up—they’d been found out.
Jackson looked up, both of his thick, two-timing brows lifting in surprise when he saw her.
Madison’s eyes stung. The decked out table behind her was going to give her away. The last thing she wanted was for Jackson to see all the trouble she’d gone to. “Oh, you’re home,” she said indifferently. “I was just on my way out.” She turned about and blew out the candles.
The soft, romantic music playing in the background wasn’t helping matters. She scuttled over to the stereo, tripping on the Persian rug in her haste to make a hasty getaway. “You two go ahead and do whatever you were about to do,” she said with a casual wave of her hand. “Don’t mind me.”
Neither Jackson nor Sheila moved.
As Madison gathered the Waterford crystal from the table and returned it to the hutch, she said, “I was just leaving, so your timing couldn’t have been better. I’m supposed to—”
Madison’s mind went suddenly
blank. She was supposed to do what? Her heart was lodged in her throat. Her eyes misted. Blinking, she inwardly scolded herself for even entertaining the idea of crying in front of the man. She’d never forgive herself.
“It appears that your wife had plans.” Sheila’s voice resembled the purr of a well-tuned Mercedes: buttery soft, elegant…expensive.
Madison shook her head. “No, no. I had no plans. I happened to see a television show the other day about setting tables. I thought I’d give it a whirl. That’s all.” She collected the napkins and shoved them in the top drawer of the hutch. This was ridiculous. What had she been thinking? That Jackson was going to gaze into her eyes, tell her she was the only woman for him, and then confess his love for her? What a fool she was. Always the fool.
Jackson came to her side and touched her arm, setting her back in motion. Leaning over the wide mahogany table, Madison picked up the silverware and tried to pretend he wasn’t even there.
“Sheila stopped by the office to apologize for the scene at the wedding,” he explained, “and to invite us both out for a drink.”
He sounded sincere. They always did when they’d been caught red-handed.
“I was hoping you would come, too.”
Madison looked into his eyes. “Is that so?”
He looked at the glinting forks in her hand. “Are you upset about something?”
Tall, gorgeous Sheila, who should be gracing the cover of Vogue, waited patiently by the front entrance. No, she wasn’t upset. Liar. Madison pointed the forks at her chest. “Me? Upset? Whatever gave you that idea? You didn’t think this”—she pointed to the table—“was for you, did you?”
He looked at the table as if he were noticing it for the first time. “It wasn’t?”
“Of course not,” she said, feigning a chuckle. “I told you I was going out tonight, but I never told you who with. You probably assumed it was Jen.”
Jackson appeared baffled.
She breezed past him, making her way to the hutch. She opened the silverware drawer and threw in the forks. She should’ve known that there wasn’t a man in the world who could love just her.
“You’ve got my curiosity piqued,” Jackson said. “Who were you meeting?”
“You mean, who am I meeting?”
“Okay, that’s what I mean.”
His mouth was a straight line. She’d made him angry. She didn’t like where this conversation was headed. Stop now before you bury yourself, Madison. Before you say something you don’t mean.
Sheila cleared her throat.
They both ignored her.
“His name is Zachary,” Madison lied. She watched Sheila make herself comfortable on the Colonial Revival settee in the marbled entry. Probably placed there for just this sort of occasion. Jackson’s little waiting area.
“Zachary.” Jackson repeated. “I haven’t heard you mention him before. A friend of Adam’s?”
She put a hand to her chest. “No, no. Zachary is a man. A real man.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sheila sighed. “I think what she means—”
They both silenced her with twin glares.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Madison told Jackson with a sigh. “I really should get going.”
“This real man is picking you up?”
“Of course he is. If he wasn’t real, how could he pick me up?” She forced a small laugh. “He should be here any minute.”
Jackson stood in her way.
Madison crossed her arms over her chest. Now that she’d calmed some, she decided to see what he had to say for himself. “Why would you stop by the house, if you thought I was out?”
“I tried to call before I left. The line was busy.”
She remembered the phone in the kitchen, the one she’d taken off the hook so nobody could interrupt them tonight. She was struck with an incredible urge to crawl under a rug and die.
Jackson’s jaw twitched. “Wait right here,” he said. He walked over to Sheila and told her he was sorry but it would be better if they had drinks another time. She wished him all the best on his birthday before she left.
They both watched Sheila leave. The door clicked shut.
Madison didn’t know what to say, opting to stay quiet.
“Better not keep Zachary waiting,” he said.
Madison stiffened. She wanted to tell him there was no Zachary, but the words, along with her pride, were stuck in her throat like a cork. She grabbed her purse, went to the door, and glanced back at him over her shoulder. Jackson wasn’t looking her way. He didn’t try to stop her as she walked out.
~~~
Jackson rubbed the back of his neck.
The saying, “Never a dull moment,” crossed his mind.
The last few months had been incredible, but somehow he had let himself forget how relationships work—or more precisely, how they didn’t work. After he loosened his tie, he picked up the gift box from the table and untied the gold ribbon.
Zachary.
He gritted his teeth at the thought of Madison with another man. Obviously, she hadn’t forgotten this marriage was temporary. No strings attached. How in the world had he forgotten?
He pulled the lid off the box.
He cared way too much about Madison. One kiss in a coffee shop was all it had taken for him to know she was special. He’d never met another woman as charming or as exciting.
A glint of gold caught his eye. Inside the box was a wedding band. The card read:
To Jackson, you make me feel special.
Thank you for taking me up on my offer so many months ago.
He stared at the ring for a moment. There was an inscription. He picked up the ring and examined it closer. I love you. Madison.
His stomach contracted into a tight ball. He went to the window. Peering out, he could see Madison’s silhouette as she leaned against a palm in the driveway, the breeze sweeping her hair from her face. No eyeglasses tonight. The goddess of darkness…waiting for a man who didn’t exist.
He smiled, and then looked down at the ring and placed it back in the box. She loved him. The words conjured up feelings of wonder and…claustrophobia.
Love and marriage equaled commitment, obligations, responsibilities. With mixed emotions, he slid the box into his pocket, along with the hopeless realization that he wasn’t ready to give up his freedom.
Heading outside, he knew it was time to tell her the truth about Heather. The truth was all he could give her.
~~~
Damn. Madison heard footsteps coming down the driveway. She held perfectly still, praying he wouldn’t notice her standing there. Maybe he was just putting his car away for the—
“Zachary hasn’t arrived, I see.”
Grimacing, she pushed herself away from the tree. “I guess I’ve been stood up.”
“Looks that way.”
The moonlight cast its shadowy light, highlighting his bluish-black hair, rugged five o’clock shadow and square, disciplined jaw.
For a moment, nobody said a word.
Finally, Madison gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m sure this’ll be one birthday you’ll always want to remember.”
He gave her a subtle nod. “It’s getting cold. Why don’t you come inside? If Zachary shows up, I’m sure he’ll honk or come to the door.”
She sighed. “There is no Zachary.”
“You don’t say?” Sarcasm laced his words.
“You knew all along?”
“Not all along.” He took a strand of her hair between his fingers and played with it. “Why is it so difficult for you to trust me, to be honest with me?”
Shivers coursed over her. She took his offered hand and let him lead her toward the house. “A lot of reasons, I guess.” She watched the hard angles of his jaw as they went along. “I’ve never known a married man who didn’t have a woman waiting in the wings. My dad, my grandfather, my grandfather’s father—”
“I didn’t know my father,” Jac
kson told her, “but from what my mother used to tell me, I’d bet he never strayed.”
Madison smiled at his certainty. “Sometimes I feel as if I’m always fighting my instincts and my heart. I can’t quite shake the idea that my life doesn’t have to reflect everything that’s happened in my youth, or even in the not-so-distant past.”
“The past is the past.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry about tonight. I acted like a fool.”
“I was the fool. I should have come up to the house first to warn you. But it’s over now. The past—”
“Is the past.”
He squeezed her hand.
Beneath a full, bright moon, the chirping of crickets serenaded them up the wide expanse of stairs and into the house. They stepped inside, and Madison noticed that the gift box was gone.
He’d seen the ring. He knew.
Madison swallowed dryly. She gazed into his eyes, breathed in his scent. “Loving someone doesn’t have to be an obligation,” she said. “Loving someone can be liberating, freeing.”
Sadness lined his face.
Tell me you love me. But she could see he wasn’t ready. She felt married in every sense of the word, and yet to Jackson, this was still a business deal.
“We need to talk,” he said.
Judging by the tone of his voice, she thought she knew where this was headed. And Jen was right. She wasn’t ready to hear it. “Not tonight,” she said in a low voice. “It’s your birthday. Let’s forget all about Sheila—and Zachary,” she teased, “and celebrate your birthday together.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and nestled her head against his chest. When she looked at him, he pressed his lips to hers, and she closed her eyes and prayed he’d see what she already did—that they were made for each other.
Chapter Thirteen
It was Saturday. Another week had come and gone. Jackson sauntered into the kitchen wearing a soft terrycloth robe. He took a seat at the kitchen table and admired Madison’s backside as she reached high into the cupboard.
An Offer He Can't Refuse Page 15