by Alexa Hart
I nodded. “I just made them this morning. They’re my mom’s secret recipe.”
“My mom never bakes.” The girl said. “She has a cook.”
“Wow,” I said, “that must be nice!”
“I guess,” Maddie shrugged.
I nodded. “I mean, not every mommy has to cook, right? What about your dad? Does he like to cook, or does he have someone to do that for him too?”
Maddie snorted. “Definitely not. But he does have a sweet tooth. Maybe he could have one of your cookies when we get to Chicago. What about your dad, does he cook?”
“My dad? He used to love to cook. But that doesn’t mean he was good at it.”
Maddie had noticed my use of past tense and maybe even the look in my eye and dropped the subject. She was one observant kid.
“My name is Summer,” I had said.
“I’m Maddie,” she’d nodded.
“Very nice to meet you, Maddie,” I smiled. I could see she was sizing me up, but after one more cookie and a once over that made me wonder what she’d deduced about me, Maddie decided we were best friends. And that started the chatter!
Now, as we get closer to Chicago, the talking and the sugar rush fade and Maddie falls asleep on my shoulder. The sun is bright through our window so I reach out and block the light shining through with my hand, so it isn’t in Maddie’s face as she sleeps. I look her over and noticed that her clothes are nice, but her hair hasn’t been brushed in what seems like a few days and she was obviously hungry — cook or no cook, she’d swiped three more cookies before I put the tin away! I’d nannied for a few of these types to help pay for college. Financial analysts and CPAs and trophy wives with personal chefs who paid well to assuage their guilt that they were too busy for the small things with their kids, the things that mattered, the things I would've given anything to have with my parents one last time.
My heart tugs for her. She looks young and vulnerable asleep, without her chatter to hide her fears. And why is she traveling alone? She seems way too young. Is she a pawn in an ugly divorce? I’d nannied for a few of those too, where the kids were just chess pieces to use as leverage for more alimony or to trade for the lake house. I don’t know Maddie well, but it’s obvious she’s special and this girl deserves so much more. I feel a bubble of indignation. These kinds of rich, entitled parents are the worst, and if I’m brave enough, I just might give Maddie’s fancy financier dad a piece of my mind when we arrive. One thing is for certain, he’s not getting any of my cookies, sweet tooth or not!
Chapter 2
Kane
My gloved fist hits Danny Marino in his abdomen with a satisfying thump and he gives a good-natured, but pained grunt.
“Easy there, Tiger,” he chuckles as he knocks his boxing gloves against each other and takes a moment to get back into fighting position. “This is just a friendly match.”
“Friendly, my ass,” I say.
Danny was the one who’d wanted to spar in the ring this afternoon instead of the usual lunch meeting, and I know it’s probably because he’s found out about his sister coming over to my place again last night. I also know it won’t do any good to tell him I’d turned her away again, and that she was getting down-right annoying. Trixie Marino isn’t my type. That is, she’s the type that wants a relationship, and I’m not doing that again, ever. One time with my flaky, silver-spoon ex was plenty. Hell, too much. The only good thing I got out of that shit storm was Maddie, and for that, I’d do it again in a heartbeat, but that doesn’t mean I plan to repeat the same mistake twice. Lesson learned. There are plenty of women who are more than happy to accept my conditions of no second dates. Hell, even the first dates are optional. Sex, like exercise, is something I do to stay healthy. Relationships, on the other hand, are toxic. And in my line of work, they are a dangerous liability. Keeping Maddie safe and far removed from the business is hard enough. Plus, I’ve never known a happy couple, ever — and I spend most of my nights roughing up jackasses who hurt or gamble or lie to their supposed loved ones, treating them like trash. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it’s all bullshit. From next to my duffle bag I hear my phone buzz and I glance over to see if I can catch the ID on the screen. While I’m distracted, Danny Marino steps left and jabs me in the nose. I feel a sting and I can confirm, based on how unfriendly the punch felt, that he’s heard about Trixie coming over.
“I didn’t touch your sister,” I say, dodging another jab and stepping back with a quick foot. My shirtless, muscular body is sweaty with movement, and I appreciate these matches because for once I’m not here to hurt anybody — not that I mind landing a punch to an asshole, I’ve always enjoyed using my strength to drill into someone who deserved it, it’s just, that is work. I dodge another punch and get a light jab at Danny.
“You’re playing with me,” Danny huffs.
“I’m going easy on you because you’re the boss,” I say, dodging another lunge.
I’m also going easy because Danny Marino isn’t just my boss but also my oldest friend, and while he’s fit enough to destroy the average jerk on the street with his fists, he and I both know I could hurt him if I wanted. Fighting is the one thing I really excel at. I dodge another punch. “Dude, I’m not sleeping with Trixie.”
Danny growls. “I know that. But I can’t fight her for being an idiot about you… so this….” he swings again and I let him land a punch to my stomach, “is how I get out my frustration. But if you don’t make it clear to her that it’s never going to happen, I swear to fucking god I’ll send my best man to rough you up and he’s no fucking joke.”
I land one last punch, ready for the conversation to be over, and Danny falls flat on his ass. “Since that man is me, I’ll take my chances. But trust me Danny, Trixie knows where I stand. She’s just got that tenacious Marino blood that makes your family good at what you do…” I tear off one boxing glove with my teeth and then reach down with my ungloved hand to pull him back on his feet, “...and terrible at knowing when to stop.”
Danny shakes his head. “I just...know how you are with women these days, Kane.”
“And how is that?” I ask.
“The same way you are with your job. Merciless. Cold. A fucking dick.”
I shrug. In truth, Trixie is hot as hell, all black hair and big breasts and a smoldering look that tells me she wants me whenever we’re in the same room together, but that’s the thing — that look quickly becomes something else, and I never mix business with pleasure, even if Trixie would be a pleasure. The way to do what I do and live the way I live is to compartmentalize and stay in total control.
I hear my phone buzz again down by my workout bag and I uncuff my other glove. I step toward the edge of the boxing ring.
“You get out of the ring, you forfeit,” Danny chuckles.
“Yeah, yeah, you win,” I say. “And it might be Maddie. She’s with Julie this week and I’ll fucking kill her if she ignores Maddie again the whole time like the last visit.”
I climb under the boxing rope and wipe a towel over my sweaty face before grabbing my phone. There’s a bunch of frantic texts from Julie that Maddie’s left on her own while she was out at the salon. I check my messages and sure enough, there’s one from Maddie using Julie’s phone to tell me she’s coming home early and the details on her bus arrival. When did that kid learn to be such a fucking grown-up? She’s still supposed to be an innocent little girl. Instead, she got a mom who acts like a kid, and worse when she’s drinking, and a set of rich grandparents trying to cover it all up and act like everything is great, but always at Maddie’s expense. This time, I can’t contain my anger. I punch the wall, leaving a dent the size of my fist.
“You’re paying for that,” Danny says.
“I know. Just text me the details on the guy whose debt is past due. I’ll pay him a visit tonight.” I pull on my t-shirt and my brown leather jacket. I look at the time as I finish getting dressed. Shit, I won’t get to the bus station before Maddie is due
to arrive. “I’ve gotta run.”
Danny eyes the hole in the wall and my bleeding knuckles. “Fucking glad you took it easy on me, man.”
Chapter 3
Summer
When we arrive at the Greyhound Bus Station, a giant brick and glass monstrosity that reeks of diesel and sweat, Maddie’s dad is not there. I gather my suitcase, but I can’t just leave Maddie alone in the depot waiting. So I tell her I’ll wait with her until her dad arrives. The more we wait, the more I fantasize about the uptight, Brooks Brothers suited CPA with a cell phone glued to his ear that can’t leave his very important meeting to pick up his daughter, or worse, sends an Uber to pick her up instead. Also, the more I wait, the more I want to kick him in the shins when I meet him, or, if it wasn’t so improper, kick him someplace that could really teach him a lesson. Maddie assures me it isn’t his fault and he’s a great dad and he’ll come to get her soon, but the kids I nannied for did that too, made excuses to hide their pain. And though I am not sure of its nexus, I can tell this smart little girl is in a lot of pain.
“Can I borrow your phone?” she asks.
I nod and hand her my phone. She zips off a text and then hands it back. She’s frowning and to keep her mind off of everything, and because I feel a little guilty about only giving her cookies on the bus ride, I buy Maddie a hot dog. I know it is only incrementally healthier than a plateful of cookies, but the bus depot isn’t exactly a farmer’s market overflowing with kale and honeycrisp apples, like the kind we have in Madison. I promise myself I’ll eat a huge salad for dinner to make up for the day’s guilty pleasures. We find a table in the food court area and we sit together giggling and eating our hot dogs as we thumb through my mom’s cookbook together. Maddie insists I don’t need to wait with her, but I can tell that she only means to show me she is a tough, independent kid. I get that. It’s more than a little too familiar. So I also know it doesn’t mean she doesn’t still need someone to watch out for her — doesn’t actually long for it. And as we look through my mom’s recipes Maddie admits she’s never even baked a cake before. She says her dad’s birthday is coming up in a few months and she wants me to teach her how to make one for him. Even though I am feeling less than charitable toward her absentee dad at the moment, I smile and agree. We can’t help our family. I tell her she can come down to my uncle’s bakery anytime so we can remedy that fast. I’ll teach her to make the best birthday cake her dad has ever tasted.
About twenty minutes into our waiting, Maddie excuses herself to use the bathroom. I stand up and ask if I should come with her. She gives me the most amazing pre-tween look as if I may have a few screws loose.
“I’m not a baby,” she shakes her head.
“Right,” I nod. “Totally.” The kids I nannied for were, to be fair, usually still in diapers.
As she walks down the depot corridor to the bathroom my phone pings. Whoever Maddie texted earlier has just replied.
“Maddie! You little shit! You know how much trouble you got me in with your grandparents? They threatened my allowance for you disappearing like that! You and your dad will be sorry about this.” I scroll up and read Maddie’s original text. Mom, sorry I left early. I missed home. Don’t worry, I’m safe. Sometime, let’s bake a cake together?
I stare at the phone in utter disbelief. How could her own mother talk to her like that? The idea of a mother being anything but warm and loving is so foreign to me, I fight back tears. I think maybe this feeling is what compels me to do what I do next. Because as I fight back my tears at the way Maddie’s mom has just replied, more worried about losing an allowance as a grown woman than if her daughter is okay, I look up from my phone and see Maddie arguing with someone. No, not just someone. A very big, very masculine, I don’t know… thug! I mean he is tall, easily over six feet, and even fully clothed he is obviously hiding serious muscles under a tight white t-shirt and brown leather jacket, well-worn dark jeans that hug his body in all the right places, and heavy work boots. His hair is thick and dark and tucked under a wool cap, his jaw square, and his eyes dark and piercing. True, objectively, from a female perspective, maybe the tall, muscular, handsome, chiseled bad boy look would make him sort of sexy, just not in a way I like. Dangerous men are more Becca’s cup of tea. When I still thought I was going to London, I was hoping for a nice Oxford grad student to fall in love with in London and after five years or so get married and have cute English babies with. I thought maybe I’d even get into drinking tea. My mom had a great recipe for lemon scones. This guy is not someone you’d ever see drinking a cup of tea, though maybe you’d see him crush a teacup with one hand. But Becca would be all over him. I mean, she’d be all over him if we weren't in a bus station in Chicago and if this man didn’t have his sleeves rolled up to reveal wrists covered in inky, black tattoos and the knuckles of his right hand crusted with blood. And maybe in a world where he wasn’t totally threatening Maddie. Because they are clearly arguing about something. I stand up, every maternal instinct in me alight.
Maddie turns away from the man to come back over to me and he starts to follow after her. His eyes are angry. He reaches out toward her and something about it, the way I feel that she has no one to defend her… and her mother’s text… and her absent dad… I do the first thing I can think of.
“Maddie,” I say, waving for her to get away. “Run!”
And then I pick up the cookie tin and I throw it at him. It glances off him without much of an effect, I never had much of a throwing arm, but I hope at least the distraction will give us both time to get away. Instead of Maddie running like I’ve commanded, Maddie freezes and stares back at the man and for a moment I think she almost laughs in horror, like I’ve just done the dumbest thing she has ever seen. The way this strong, muscular and angry man is glaring at me makes me think she might not be wrong.
“What the fucking hell?!” The man growls as he stares at his shoulder. The tin missed his head, I’ve also never had good aim, and bounced off his very strong shoulder onto the ground with a loud rattle. He leans down and picks up the cookie tin as if it is the strangest thing he has ever seen. His reaction is clearly one of surprise and annoyance, and he lifts his eyes from the tin to my face with a look that says he has murder on his mind. I feel my knees buckle under the intense drill of his dark, piercing eyes.
“Maddie,” the man said, still staring at me. “Do you want to explain why this lady just assaulted me?”
The way he says lady doesn’t feel like a compliment. Actually, it feels as withering as the look in his eyes. Which, I guess, considering the circumstances, could be fair. Still, my maternal instincts are on overdrive.
“Don’t swear in front of her, you...you...thug!” I say. I don’t know why I say this, because at this point I already know my assumptions must be all wrong, but I’m still upset about her mom swearing at her on my phone and the whole damn situation. I get my phone out of my pocket. “I’m calling the police if you don’t get away from her right now.”
“Great,” he nods at my phone and takes a step closer. I feel myself inadvertently take a step back, though a part of my body is drawn forward. I try to look him in the eyes as bravely as I can even though he looms over my small frame by almost a foot.
“Great,” I gulp, not sure why we are agreeing on this. In fact, I am feeling very unsure at this moment. His eyes are making me feel uneasy, and not in a bad way. He cocks a smile like he knows that my traitorous body is reacting to him and I nearly lose my breath.
“When they come, they can arrest you for assaulting me with…” the man examines the tin with a confused look on his face. “A cookie tin? That’s a first.”
Maddie takes the cookie tin from the man’s hands. “Summer is a baker. If you broke any of the cookies you are so dead,” she says to the man. No part of her is remotely afraid of him.
“How would that be my fault?” He asks. “She threw the thing at me.” His voice isn’t angry anymore either. It’s almost...soft.
�
�To protect me!” Maddie says. “I told you, you come off as way too scary!”
“Maddie?” I freeze with the phone half to my ear. The man blinks at me and there is something familiar in the warm, intense gaze and the long lashes. His eyes are like smoldering, intense versions of someone else blinking up at me right now. Shoot! I feel my cheeks redden. “Do you know this man?”
Maddie frowns. “Unfortunately.”
“You’re Maddie’s dad,” I say. Not a question now. It’s all becoming humiliatingly, painfully clear.
“You sound surprised.” He says.
“Um… It’s just, you don’t look like a CPA.”
“CPA?” he laughs. “Maddie?”
“I said you were in finance,” Maddie shrugs. “That’s true.”
The man rakes me up and down. I pull my cardigan closer over my blouse and attempt to look my most poised and in control, the opposite of how this man’s gaze makes me feel.
“You must be disappointed I turned out to be a thug then,” he says. His eyes drop to my lips and I find myself unable to formulate a sentence. He seems to find my silence annoying or angering because his eyes grow hard again and he picks up Maddie’s backpack.
“Let’s go, Maddie. You’re in enough trouble already. I told you to be careful talking to strangers.”
“Wait a minute,” I sputter. “I’m...I’m not…” I step in front of him. “Maddie, are you really okay going home with him?”
The man steps between us. “No, she’s not okay. For starters, she’s grounded. Not that this is any of your business. And lady,” the man says. “I’m really starting to lose my patience with the stuck-up, good Samaritan act. You don’t know me at all.”
I gulp. He’s right. Maddie puts the cookbook in my hand apologetically. “It’s okay, Summer. He’s my dad and his bark is worse than his bite.” I look at his bloody knuckles and am not sure I agree. He looks down and follows my glance and I can see his eyes flare.