“That’s because I’m enjoying my life and taking care of myself.”
I scoff. “Yeah, okay. I’m pretty sure you don’t even believe that.”
“Oh, girls, come on,” Mom says, looking between us. “It’s the holidays. Let’s not be catty.”
“We aren’t.” I shrug. “Bailey and I are just kidding. We do this all the time, Mom.” I look into Bailey’s eyes as I speak, and she narrows hers. We’re totally not kidding. I’ve always felt like Bailey is envious of me—like she loves me but can’t stand me all the same.
“Whatever,” Bailey mumbles, turning and picking up a can of whipped cream. Funny. You’d think she was the baby sister with how petty she acts.
“So, editing is going good?” Lena asks me, stepping forward as she drops a box of oatmeal in the cart.
“Editing is great,” I respond. “Never better.”
“Have you met anyone famous?” she inquires, smiling.
“Not yet…but there is supposed to be this new singer coming to take pictures with our advertisement department. I might sneak in and check it out.”
“Who cares?” Bailey mutters.
“Bailey, could you chill out?” Lena snaps, looking her hard in the eyes. “For one year, can you act like you care about your sister and what she’s doing with her life?”
Bailey throws her arms in the air. “What?! No one cares about her job as an editor! It’s just words. It not serious!”
“Just because you don’t care doesn’t mean we don’t,” Mom butts in.
Everyone stares at Bailey, the twins included.
“God, what is your deal?” Lena asks with a slight hiss. “You’ve been bitchier than usual lately and I didn’t even think that was possible.”
“Bailey, sweetie are you okay?” Mom asks.
“You have been acting bitchier than usual,” I add in.
“You really have, even to Mom and Dad,” Lena agrees.
“I have to agree with them, sweetie. It seems like something’s wrong. Is something wrong? Did you and Tony breakup?” Mom whispers the last question.
“Mom!” Bailey exclaims.
“What!? I’m only asking!”
“Wait…you were dating someone?” I ask, brows dipped. “How the hell didn’t I know this?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Bailey grumbles.
“Ohhh! Now it all makes sense. It is Tony,” Lena fills in. “You’re upset he bailed for the holidays.”
“He didn’t bail on me,” she snaps at Lena.
“So then what is it?” Mom asks.
“I seriously cannot deal with this right now.” Bailey turns her back to us and rushes away, storming down one of the aisles in her stilettos. We all look at one another, confused as hell. But before we can push the cart to follow after her, she’s back with a box in her hand.
We all gasp as she waves it in the air. “This is why he’s not here. Because I told him I wasn’t ready to tell you guys yet but all he wanted to do was brag about it.”
“Oh, my goodness! Bailey, sweetie! Why didn’t you say anything to me?” Mom rushes forward, lowering the pregnancy test that’s in her hand and then cupping her face. “No wonder you’ve been so moody—and so sleepy. You went to bed so early last night. You’re usually the last one to fall asleep.”
“Actually, last night I was just really tired of dealing with you guys,” she jokes.
Lena and I laugh and Mom playfully smacks her shoulder. “Oh, honey! But this is exciting news! Why wouldn’t you bring Tony to celebrate this blessing?”
“Because…Tony and I aren’t married and I was afraid of how Dad would react more than anything. You know how he is about having kids before marriage.”
“Oh, to hell with what your father thinks,” Mom says, frowning. “He doesn’t control your body. He can talk all he wants but it changes nothing. Being pregnant and having baby is a special, special blessing that not many women can have. You may as well start cheering up about it because we’re telling him as soon as we get home.”
Bailey whips her head up to look Mom in the eye. “As soon as? Why? Why can’t we just wait until like the very last minute of the very last day, right before we all go our separate ways?”
Mom steps back, laughing. “Don’t worry.” She waves a hand. “We’ll get a few drinks in him and then we’ll tell him. So more like as soon as he’s a little tipsy,” she amends.
Lena shakes her head. “Well, now I don’t feel so bad about not getting people gifts this year,” she says.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“We get a niece, Mom and Dad get another grand, and Bailey gets a baby soon! That’s a gift for everyone.”
I snort. “You are seriously the worst, Lena.”
“Hey. I have two kids to worry about. We’re all adults here. Besides, it’s not about the presents. It’s about spending time with family and enjoying the small things.”
I look down at the comic book collection. “Sometimes,” I murmur. “But even the smallest gifts count.”
Lena looks at me, her eyes gentle. Maybe she really is turning over a new leaf. Compared to last year, she’s been quieter, a little more reserved. She seems more relaxed and accepting.
“Guess what?” Lena whispers as Mom carries on a conversation about baby names with Bailey, who constantly rolls her eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“Dexter called as soon as my head hit the pillow last night.” She grins like a love-stricken maniac.
I gasp. “Really? See, I knew he would!”
“It was so great to hear his voice,” she sighs. “And I woke the twins up so they could talk to him. Of course they were half asleep, but as soon as they heard their Daddy’s voice, they perked right up. Jana cried because he couldn’t be here, which made me cry too, of course.” She glances at Jana and Joey, and I look over, watching them argue over a board game. “But all in all, it was the greatest gift I could ask for.”
“That’s great, Lena. I’m so happy for you.”
“And I’m happy for you, Piper. I really am. I think with Matthew by your side, you living out your dreams, and staying consistent, that you’ll make it as far as you want to go. You’re still so young. You have so much ahead of you.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “Thanks. I’m glad you think so.”
Too bad it can’t happen. Soon, Matthew won’t be by my side, so it’s like her words are meaningless, though if this were real, it would have packed a punch.
Chapter 10
Matthew
It’s around noon and Stanley, Mr. Madison, and I are in the basement.
It’s set up somewhat like a man cave. A pool table is in the far left corner, a dartboard on the wall across from the door, and Carolina Panthers décor on almost every wall.
There’s even a Carolina Panthers’ blanket on the top of one of the white, reclining sofas.
A flat-screen television is built into the north wall, a black-granite counter bar to my right. A hand claps my shoulder as I take it all in and Stanley steps up to my side. “Nice right?” He smiles as he looks around. “Helped the Pops set it up and everything.”
“Carolina Panthers?” I ask with an inclined brow.
“Hell yeah, man! We’ve been fans for a long time! When I was little I loved the colors, but Dad loves the team because his college roommate used to be a defensive coach.”
“Really?” I look at Mr. Madison, who turns on the TV and flips the channel to ESPN.
“Yep.” Mr. Madison acknowledges. “I used to get tickets—right on the front row. Best seats in the house. Got inside the box a couple of times, too. I prefer front row though.” He winks over his shoulder.
“That’s cool. Do you still keep in touch with him?” I ask.
Mr. Madison drops the remote control, going for the pool table. “That would be nice, but unfortunately he passed away two years ago.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Nah, don’t worry yourself about it.” He wav
es a dismissive hand. “Who’s your team?” he inquires, looking at me as if I’m going to say the shittiest team on the planet.
“Green Bay all day, man!”
“Hell no! You can’t be serious!” Stanley throws two thumbs down, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we have a Packer lover in the house!”
I chuckle. “Hey, man! They’re a great team!”
“They’re all right,” Mr. Madison chuckles to himself.
“They win more games than the Panthers,” I laugh.
“Oh, shit, Dad! He just went there!”
“He sure did, didn’t he?” We all laugh together, Mr. Madison racking the balls in the triangle tray. “Nah, that’s okay. As long as you love football, you’re okay in my book.” Mr. Madison walks away from the pool table to get behind the bar. He pulls down a bottle of scotch, three glasses, and pours some into each. “Jamison?” he offers, holding a glass up.
Stanley grabs a glass right away.
“Sure,” I murmur, recalling the conversation Piper and I had about it being wise to take the drink if he offers.
I think I’m winning him over, but I could use the extra brownie points…even though it’s only noon.
“Drink up, bud,” Stanley sighs. “You’re gonna need it with all that’s planned today. Mom goes overboard with a big O. We can never just relax during the day.”
Mr. Madison rubs his hands together as he meets at the pool table. “Ready for some pool?”
He places his glass on the table behind him and then walks to the wall lined up with pool sticks. He takes three of them down, coming our way and handing them to us.
“Piper was the only one of the girls that loved playing pool with me,” he informs me, a proud smile on display. “She’s very competitive.”
“Very,” Stanley laughs.
“Is that so?” I ask, amused.
“Yes! Oh—look at this.” Mr. Madison takes off for a glass case behind the sofa. He pulls the door open and takes out a picture frame.
Coming back in our direction, he hands the frame to me and then steps beside me, pointing at the photograph of the teenage girl with pigtails and braces.
“That’s Piper?” I fight a laugh, studying her in her red and black basketball uniform and braces.
“Yep. She started for her high school. She had so much heart—so much drive. She was so damn ambitious and I thought surely she’d go further with her life—get a career worth something, you know?”
I look up at him, avoiding a frown. “What do you mean?”
“Come on!” His voice is louder, raspier. “You can’t tell me you don’t find it silly that she’s editing for some magazine. That’s beneath her!”
I shrug one shoulder. “I don’t think it’s bad at all. She loves her job and is passionate about it. She’s also very good at it.”
“We wanted her to make more of herself. We didn’t send her off to Harvard and pay tens of thousands in tuition just for her to spend her days telling people about what restaurant has the best kale chips in New York. She settled, and for what?”
“Well,” I start, lowering the photo, “she has a great place back in Manhattan. And, pardon my language, but she works her ass off—sometimes going in before the sun rises—just to get projects finished early for her job.”
“That’s true. Plus, every time I call her, she’s busy,” Stanley adds. “She sounds happy too.”
I nod. “I see her work late on the nights I visit and I wonder how she does it—how she keeps the steam, the drive, the passion. Now that you’ve told me she’s always been this way, well, you’ve got to admit that’s something to admire, Mr. Madison.”
He looks me over before averting his gaze to the TV. “I just think she deserves more out of life,” he grumbles beneath his breath, walking back to the pool table. “You know what? You two get the game started. I’ve gotta run upstairs to take a quick vitamin.” Mr. Madison forces a smile at Stanley and me but wastes no time walking around us and marching up the stairs.
We watch him go, and when the door creaks closed we know he might not be coming back anytime soon.
“Sensitive man.” Stanley shrugs, turning to look at me. “He doesn’t like to be wrong. He knows Piper is doing better than both Lena and Bailey combined. Maybe not financially—yet—but emotionally, she is. I think he’s just upset because she didn’t fail at doing something she actually wanted to do.”
“What did they want her to study again?” I sit on one of the stools as he sips his drink, pretending I don’t know the answer to that question.
“Oh,” Stanley chokes on a laugh, placing his glass on the counter and then leaning his lower back against the edge. “Well, if it didn’t have anything to do with saving lives, justice, business—accounting at least—then they didn’t approve. A doctor, dentist, surgeon, accountant—anything like that. Piper let them know early on that she didn’t want to do any of it. They said they wouldn’t pay her tuition if she didn’t take the courses, so of course she went along with it. But during her freshman year, she made the wise decision to switch her major, drop out of what Mom and Dad wanted her in. She called me personally and told me she was worried she was making a mistake. I told her she wasn’t making one at all. Our parents shouldn’t have that much control of our destiny—our future. They think they should, but they’re wrong. When they found out, they were upset, but they didn’t want us to look like the idiots by not having her graduate. Oh,” he laughs, like he remembers something, “and she dated this one guy that they set her up with—a real douche with more money than he knew what to do with. I guess they figured if she wouldn’t do what they wanted, she could be with someone they wanted her to be with. Wrong. Piper terminated that too. That was years ago.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.” He rubs his face. “But as independent and smart and ambitious as Piper is, I can’t help but wonder about one thing…”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” I ask.
He looks me over, a smile twitching at his lips. “I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why she felt she had to go so far as to hire an escort to be her boyfriend, just to please them.” He laughs.
And my heart sinks to my stomach.
My mouth moves, but words don’t form.
Holy shit.
Chapter 11
Matthew
Fuck.
How the hell did he find out?
“Did she tell you?” I ask, trying my hardest to remain cool. I have never been in a situation like this before. I have never been found out.
“No. She didn’t have to. I knew it as soon as I met you.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…well, Matthew, I’m a lawyer. I see right through people. That’s how I decide whether or not to work with a client. Nothing against you or anything, but I saw it as soon as she brought you in. Plus, with as many times as I call her a week, I'm almost certain Piper would have at least mentioned a guy she was interested in. I mean, I know she tries not to because of how I lost my wife and all, but it’s Piper. She knows she can tell me anything. She can hide it from the rest of the family, but not me. Plus, I did a little digging in your coat, found your wallet, and figured out your full name and where you’re from. Found out a few things about you, bud. Having someone that can access criminal backgrounds and records comes in handy.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
I look away. I cannot believe this shit. “You looked into my records?” I ask underneath my breath.
Stanley turns in my direction and I look up. “Look, don’t worry about me. I won’t tell a soul about any of it. Not about you being a fake boyfriend or even the fact that you almost killed someone when you were eighteen.”
I swallow thickly. “Look, I’m just doing this for Piper,” I say quickly, pushing to a stand.
“Oh, I know what you do. You prey on wealthy, lonely girls, use your charm and those dimples and that beard so you can get your bills paid, and then you forget all about them.”
Stanley smiles smugly, and I wonder just how in the hell he can be Piper’s favorite.
“That’s not why I do this,” I say as calmly as possible. “If they need help, they come to me. I do my job, and when it’s over, I leave them alone. Those are the rules and my clients know that.”
“And see—that’s the thing. You shouldn’t just leave Piper alone. I think you are starting to grow on her.” He folds his arms, focused on me.
My jaw locks.
“Do you like her?” he asks.
I blink, and that question is like a blow to the gut. “I don’t develop feelings for my clients. It’s all business.”
“Nah, I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. “I think…what you were saying to Dad was kind of real. You admire her.”
“I do think she’s smart and sweet and funny…but that’s just her personality. She knows just as well as I do that when this weekend is over, it will be like we never even met.”
Stanley makes a tisk-tisk-tisk noise. “I don’t want to be all in your business, but I know Piper. She clings. She doesn’t like to let go once she’s latched on. I’m sure you know she hasn’t been in a serious relationship since graduating college. That was over five years ago. Why do you think that is?”
His question is a rhetorical one but it does make me consider everything I know about her. Shit. Maybe having sex with her was a bad move. Hell, I knew it was but I went through with it anyway.
I don’t get attached because I can’t. I have a criminal background. It was an error in judgment, a ruthless decision I made while I was angry—angry with how the world and life worked. Angry about my reality. I spent four years in jail and, oddly enough, it changed my life for the better.
“Please don’t tell her about that,” I plead. “After this weekend, you can tell her. But I’d rather she not know. Especially right now, while things seem to be going so well.”
“I wouldn’t ruin her Christmas like that, Matthew. Your secret is safe with me,” Stanley says, walking around me. “But do me a favor and try to keep your hands off of her a little more. I’d hate for her to be disappointed once she discovers who you really are.”
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