by TC Matson
“I like that name,” I tell her.
“His birthday will be December first. Just like mine!”
Technically, Popsicle’s birthday is today, but I’m not daring to touch that subject with her. Who the hell knows where her chattering mind would lead us.
“Maddi!” her name is yelled out.
Glancing toward the direction, I lock eyes with Ryan Taylor rushing toward us. “Maddi,” he expels a breath. “I told you to stay right where you were.”
She rolls her eyes. “Right there and right here,” she points between the two places. “And I built a snowman. His name is Popsicle. His birthday is mine. This is Max. He helped me.”
I stand, dusting off my gloves. “Mr. Taylor.”
He shakes my hand with a nervous smile and my stomach knots up at the feeling something is really fucking off. “Thank you for keeping her occupied. I thought Raven was coming right back.”
Raven…
My eyes narrow through a million questions. “I didn’t know you had a child,” my mouth says, but my instincts are bucking against it.
Guilt drowns him. His smile is fake, laced with remorse. “This is my niece.”
My muscles tense. A weight slams my chest.
“What are you doing now?” a woman in a knitted beanie says, stepping beside Ryan but looking at Maddi. “You can’t ever just stay in one spot, huh?”
“I was building a snowman with my friend, Max.”
The woman’s eyes flash as her mouth drops open. And I fucking know it.
“You must be Raven?” My voice rides out steadily.
She glances to Ryan before flicking her nervous view back to me. “I am.”
Betrayal sears me. Like a flash fire, rage bursts into an inferno. My pulse slaps my chest, humming in my ears. I clench my jaw to stay composed.
Maddi pulls at my sleeve. “Max? Can we give him a sister? One like yours because you like her a lot and she has to be really cool if you like her a lot.”
“I will, Maddi,” Raven says. “I’m sure Max has other things he needs—”
I may be furious, but I’m not angry toward Maddi. “Yeah, Maddi. We can,” I say nicely to her, keeping myself in check.
Ignoring Raven and Ryan, I drop back to my knees and start forming our new snowman with shaking hands, praying they don’t say anything for fear my temper will roar. I’ve been lied to by the woman claiming she loves me. My entire time with Avery has been fucking fake…
Maddi pats the snowman’s head, twists it toward the slope just like it’s plumper twin, and rams her fingers into its face, creating eyes. When she smiles up to me, instantly I’m grounded, momentarily forgetting her mother is a bold-faced liar. “Can we call her Maxy?’
She’s after my heart. “My mom calls me that.”
“Maxy and Popsicle. I like that. Do you? Today can be her birthday. We should throw her a party and give her presents. What do you think she would want?”
She piles snow beside Maxy and pats it to form a lopsided square. As she does, I watch her…closely. And the more I do, the more I see she resembles Avery. Although her eyes are blue, they’re shaped like Avery’s. She bears her nose and lips, even her cheek bones. She’s the splitting image of a younger Avery.
The crowd around us begins to roar and Ryan shouts out to Maddi. Instinctively, she leaps to her feet, jumping up and down. I stand, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket, shaking with anger.
The snowboarder launches off the last jump, slinging into the air while flipping. The announcers are saying something, but I can’t hear anything over my pulse. Snow flies into the air as the snowboarder skids to a stop and Maddi leaps over the barrier.
I know in my gut who it is, but for the first time in my life, I’m praying my instincts fail me. Right now, I really need them to betray me. I need to know I didn’t fall for a fake.
As soon as the rider takes off her goggles and helmet, I lock eyes with Avery and my world drops out from below me. Cold air burns my lungs.
Maddi lunges into Avery, wrapping her into a bear hug of laughter and squeals.
“You knew it would be good, folks!” the announcer bellows out. “How about a ninety-two on her first run!”
Maddi celebrates again, jumping up and down with her arms wrapped around Avery’s waist. She grabs Avery’s hand and tugs her toward me. “Momma. This is Max. He helped me build Popsicle and Maxy. His momma calls him that. They’re brother and sister and we all got to watch you. Max made sure they wouldn’t get in trouble for sneaking in without tickets.”
“That was nice of him.” I hear Avery’s voice shake as she stays excited for Maddi. “Can you do me a really big favor? Will you go with Aunt Rave and Uncle Roo while I talk to Max?”
Maddi’s shoulders slump and she sighs. “Okay.” Her head hangs low as she starts to Ryan, but she smiles up to me. “Thank you, Mr. Max, for helping me. I hope they don’t get caught since I won’t be here.”
I may be outraged with Avery, but Maddi is the innocent one out of all this. I squat so I’m eye to eye with her. “You’re welcome. I’ll make sure they can stay and watch the whole thing. Thank you for letting me have fun with you. And,” I lean in closer and whisper, “thank you for offering me your socks.”
She has the sweetest giggle, one that melts my heart. Caleb has the same one with the same effect. “You’re welcome. Bye.” She skips away.
I take a deep breath and rise, anger replacing the softness in my eyes.
Avery looks petrified. “I can explain.”
I harden my glare. “Seems you have a lot to explain.”
Cameras click around us and she plasters a fake smile on. “Can we go somewhere else to talk?”
I lift my arm, gesturing for her to lead the way. Tucking her board and carrying her helmet, she travels through the people, some slapping her shoulders to congratulate her, with me in tow. No words are exchanged as we reach a smaller building and enter. She doesn’t look behind her as she moves through the hallways with the thudding of her boots echoing the empty hall. She turns into a room and I shut the door behind us.
“I was going to tell you tomorrow,” she rushes out. “I tried telling you. I tried so many times…” she drops her head. “Everything moved so fast.”
“I can’t stand a liar, no matter the reason. How the fuck do you expect me to trust you when you’ve not been truthful the entire time? When you don’t even trust me?”
“I do trust you. I just…” she trails off quietly.
“It’s a pretty fucked up way to show me,” I grit. “You didn’t trust me enough to let me fully into your life.”
“I kept her a secret because I wanted to protect her. I can’t have her meeting someone and getting her hopes up. You can’t fault me for that.”
“I don’t,” I reply simply. “But as I was bringing you into my world, you kept me out of yours. You led me to believe there was something sincere between us, yet here I am realizing it was fake.”
“It wasn’t,” she chokes out. “It isn’t fake.”
Malice rides out on my deflated laugh. “I’m glad one of us knows that.”
Silence fills the room and I’m itching to get the fuck out of here. I need to get my shit together before I say something I’ll completely regret. “If you’ll excuse me, I have company I’ve kept waiting.” I pull open the door.
“What does this mean?” Desperation and hope exhales with her words.
I stop and inhale a shaky breath to steady my own pain before shoving my hands into my pockets. I drop my view to my feet, rock back on my heels and then glance to her. “It means good luck today.”
I leave without another word…madder than fuck.
Avery
I won the freestyle. Came in third on the halfpipe. I was distracted, everything I tried so hard not to be from the get-go. Winning while losing the man I love is bitter sweet. I want to be happy and celebrate, but as my sadness entwines my soul, it dulls my elation. I fought like hell to keep my attention on my
run, but Max was at my forefront, more so when I landed.
I should’ve known better. I should’ve told him. I should’ve done a lot of things differently. But being burned so many times has left me…stupid.
I smile as everyone congratulates me, but inside I’m fighting back tears. The crowd beings to move, splitting down the center and revealing Mr. Fred Underwood, Kid’s Bazaar’s president and a longtime family friend, strolling my way…with Max in his wake.
It makes my heart cramp.
It hurts.
My entire body feels like wilting.
“Congratulations, Aubrey,” Fred says fondly, privy to my secrets and winks before he kisses my cheek.
I’ve known him for as long as I can remember. He was a close friend of my dad’s and his wife, Rori, friends with my mother.
“Thank you.”
He steps to the side and introduces Max. “This is Max Lauder, our sponsor.”
Kill me now.
Max sticks his hand out, stoic and without any of the emotions I know he was feeling earlier. “Congratulations,” he says coolly and with an easy smile. A sliver of disappointment flickers in his eyes, but professionally he covers it up and stares back at me. The fracture in my heart widens as my throat begins to scratch.
“Thank you.” My voice strangles as I shake his hand. Sparks zip up my arm as his fingers wrap around mine. I feel them in my soul. In my heart. But if he felt it, he’s not showing it. He’s completely emotionless, powering only the disciplined professionalism within him.
“As we discussed this morning in the briefing, this year’s winners will be attending a dinner. Something different to say thank you,” Fred says. “Prior to it, we’ll hold a small conference for the reporters.” He tightens his smile and raises his brow expectantly. “I know you don’t like to do interviews…”
I flash a genuine smile. “I don’t like the prying vultures. But I’ve learned how to handle them.” The bottom of my throat burns like hell.
Max says nothing more to me. I can’t tell you if it hurts him to look at me as badly as it hurts me because I’m too scared to look at him. He retreats when Mr. Underwood does. It’s torture to watch his back, especially since he was the first person I wanted to celebrate with.
“I told him he could have my socks because his shoes looked really thin but he didn’t take them. I think he was really nice.”
Maddi hasn’t shut up about Max since Raven brought her by my hotel room. Everything she says pours salt into my wounds. She likes Max…I was so worried about it that I was too scared to introduce the two.
I roll my eyes to the ceiling for a miracle. Raven nudges me. “You all right?”
“No.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat warding it off. “I fucked up big time and now I don’t know how to fix it. I should’ve just listened to you and Ryan.”
“You did what you thought was best.” Her eyes are sympathetic and it makes my tears I’m fighting to keep at bay burn. “Right or wrong way, your intent wasn’t to hurt but to protect. Avery, you’re a mother first.”
I turn my back toward her. “Zip me, please.”
I’m a tomboy with fashion. I prefer jeans over dresses. Bras with my clothing. Flats over heels. So playing dress-up for a sponsored dinner sucks ass when all I want is to be comfortable. “This dress is over the top and I’m hating Celeste for making me wear it,” I grumble.
It’s deep red without a back and a v-neck that sinks low, which I hate. It has a split that strikes up to my side revealing way too much of my leg and hip. It’s stunning and gorgeous and I’m too fancy to be sad.
Raven swats my arm. “You’re stunning in it.”
“I have to go,” I tell her, drowning in melancholy. “How do I look?”
The smile on her lips hasn’t made it to her eyes and I know it’s because I’m hurting, even if it’s my own ridiculous fault. “You look great.”
I kiss Maddi goodbye and tell her I’ll be home tomorrow. She’s always been so patient and understanding when it comes to these sorts of things. She’s so good to me.
Walking into the banquet hall is chaos. Reporters are all over the place with their stupid microphones and recorders shoved out and their cameras flashing. It forces me to smile through the pain of not having Max beside me. He would’ve made an amazing date.
I follow the signs and make my way beside Emma, who is absolutely beautiful in her pink dress. She sits beside her boyfriend, Jason, who also won the men’s snowboarding freestyle.
“Ms. Neal.” My name is called out several times before I can get comfortable in my seat. “Yet another win. High scores with every run. Did you experience any nerves today?” a reporter shouts impatiently.
I nod. More than they’ll ever know. “I always get nervous before a run. Walking to the line is the worst, but once there, I find my confidence. Except when I have Emma as a competitor. She always makes me nervous. She’s so fierce and it forces me to concentrate on my every move.”
“Any ugly words exchanged between you two today?”
Instantly irked, I roll my eyes. “There’s never been any bad blood between us. You guys are the ones who fake that.”
They turn their attention to Emma and the others, and I’m relieved to be out of the hot seat. Anxiety digs into my spine, worrying about coming face to face with Max. I have to be professional when all I want to do is throw myself at him and beg him to understand my situation.
Fifteen minutes under the reporters’ scrutiny with all my perturbation feels like an eternity. So, when they finally announce the interview is over and it’s time for the dinner, I nearly sprint out the door to get away…except I don’t know which way I want to run. To the dinner to Max? Or out the door away from reality?
The room is large and elegant with several round tables placed throughout, all draped with silver satin tablecloths. Empty plates sit with silverware and empty glasses beside them.
Slowly, I walk alongside the tables, glancing at the names on the place cards. My heart beats out of my chest the closer I get to the head table, where I know Max will be sitting. And when I finally find my name, I want to vomit through a shattered heart. Max is seated next to me along with Fred and Rori across from us.
Maybe it’s from my emotional day or from my weak legs or from a broken heart, but I sit…at the table…alone. Out of nowhere a hand sets a glass of champagne in front of me. I can smell him and I close my eyes briefly before facing my fears.
“You’re going to need that to get through tonight,” he says, his tone dry and rigid, and he sits without casting another glance my way.
I gulp half of it down. He’s damn right I’m going to need it. This and about ten more.
Fred and Rori approach the table and Max stands. I don’t. I can’t. My ass is cemented to the cushion.
“One hundred and sixty-two thousand dollars we made today,” Fred announces to the room and it erupts in cheers and claps. “Thanks to you, athletes, and some great donations, this year has been our best thus far. On behalf of the board of directors and everyone at Kid’s Bazaar, I thank you. In the upcoming days, each of you will get a print out of where the money is going. I believe being transparent is important. Included in the envelope will be an invitation for you to participate in some of the lessons that will be given, the family days we will have, and also for you to join us again next year. Again, I thank each and every one of you. The families we’re able to help, the children’s lives you’ll brighten—that means the most.”
Everyone claps as he takes a seat and leans in to a kiss from his wife. Although she’s in her late fifties with gleaming gray hair, she doesn’t look a day over forty.
“And you, Mr. Lauder. I personally want to thank you for your sponsorship and your donation.” He tips his glass toward Max.
My hands are in my lap as I mindlessly watch my fingers pick at my nails.
“Ms. Taylor…”
Hearing my real name used in a professional atmosphere surprises
me. But it’s not like Max doesn’t know. I lift my head, allowing a polite smile to rest on my lips. “That’s my mother, Freddie, and you know it.”
He beams. “How have you been? I haven’t seen or heard from you in several years. The last time I saw you was about two years ago when you dislocated your shoulder on the first run but still managed to win.”
The memory flashes. I miscalculated my landing and fell hard. Dislocating my shoulder hurt like hell, but with half a million dollars up for grabs, I wasn’t letting it take me down. I braced it, prayed, and went back out.
“I’ve been well,” I answer. “I’ve been helping Ryan out in the office for a few months.”
“How’s he doing?” he asks.
“The usual. Hardheaded, hardworking, and still has a butt chin,” I titter and it causes Fred to chuckle.
“How’s your arm?” He glances to the arm I broke when Aaron’s hitman tried taking me out.
I hold it up. “After two surgeries and too many hours of PT, I healed up just fine.”
“They got the guy who did it, right? Whatever happened to him?”
Apprehensively, I peek to Max, staring at me with wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. I shift, blinking back to Fred. “Prison.”
He nods, leaving it alone, and I’m assuming he heard my silent plea to not talk about it here. “And Maddi?”
I can’t help the smile she brings from me. “She’s great.”
“Did you receive my gift basket I sent after the handicap sledding event?”
Sweet relief causes a genuine smile. “I did. Thank you.”
“Your parents would be proud of you,” he says.
Fred and Rori Underwood knew my parents when they were younger, freshly married and toting around a nine and one-year-old. I can’t remember how Dad said they met, but I know they were close friends and spent a lot of time together even though Fred and Rori don’t have any children.
Fred looks to Max but points to me with a prideful grin. “I’ve known this girl since she was in diapers. I was there when she took her first step and her first time strapping up to ride. She was enthusiastic and determined even though she busted her tail so many times. The little thing kept getting back up.”