Although they have every right to feel this way, Kai’s comment still hurts. “Well,” I say lightly, “I was less disciplined than you. I wanted to see you and to apologize.”
“Was sex part of it?”
I feel myself blush. I’m glad it’s dark outside, and they can’t really see my face. “It crossed my mind,” I admit. “I didn’t know if you were single or even interested, but if you were…” My voice trails off.
“We’re both single and interested.”
Maddox leans forward. “Does the dominant thing bother you?”
I have to laugh at that. “Are you kidding? I’ve never been as turned on in my life.”
We finish our coffee in silence. This time, the silence feels warmer, less charged with tension. “Do you want a ride to the club?” Maddox asks eventually. “It’s a long drive.”
“What are we doing here?”
Maddox looks troubled. “Does it have to have a name?” he asks quietly. His fingers brush my skin. “I don’t want us to be adversaries, Avery.”
They don’t want to talk about the past. I have no idea if they’ve accepted my apology. I wish they’d ask me about Victor and make me tell them everything. It would be so much easier if they ordered me to talk.
But I’m going to have to cross this bridge on my own.
“Me neither,” I whisper. “I’d love a ride.”
They get to their feet. “We’ll pick you up Saturday at noon?”
“Any instructions?”
Maddox gives me a cocky grin. “We’ll keep you posted.”
16
Kai
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask Maddox as soon as we leave. There’s a dangerous edge to my voice. I don’t like what Avery did to us ten years ago, but that’s in the past. What Maddox just did… I’m really not happy about it. “Since when do you pay women to have sex with you?”
He flinches and rubs his hand over his face. “It’s more complicated than that. I don’t care about money, Kai. You know that. I’ve never given a shit about it. She was upset. I wanted to help. I acted on impulse.” He exhales, long and slow. “Let’s change the topic, please. I didn’t get the chance to ask you earlier about your hands. What did Jayla say?”
I look down at my fingers dispassionately. “That, as far as she can tell, there’s nothing wrong with me.”
“That’s fantastic news.” He raises an eyebrow. “Why don’t you look happier?”
“It solves nothing, does it?” I shrug. “My hands are still useless. I can’t operate.”
“What does Jayla think is causing it?”
“She thinks it’s in my head. Stress or anxiety or something. Joanna Wadsworth has arranged a stress management workshop.” My jaw tightens with irritation. “The whole thing is stupid. The only thing stressing me out is Joanna’s insistence that I have to attend this damn workshop. She’s on the warpath.”
“What’s wrong with attending a stress management workshop?” Maddox’s voice is curious.
I don’t reply. I know why I’m annoyed about this workshop. I’m afraid that I’m running out of options. It isn’t neurological. If it isn’t stress, then what? What if I never figure out what’s going on with my body?
“I just don’t want to be told to breathe deeply and meditate in the middle of a workday, for fuck’s sake.”
Maddox shakes his head. “You’re being a dick,” he says bluntly. “It’ll be good for you. That explains Jayla’s text. She’s moving the party back a couple of hours.”
I make a face. It’s my birthday, and Jayla’s insisting that I celebrate it, whether I want to or not. From the sound of it, half the damn hospital is going to be at the bar across the street from us. “I don’t know why everyone needs to make a fuss.”
“I’m just attending because the whole thing annoys the fuck out of you,” Maddox says cheerfully. “As for everyone else, for some strange reason, your co-workers seem to like you. It’s your birthday, buddy. It comes around once a year. Put on your big-boy pants and deal with it.”
My lips twitch involuntarily. Maddox is right; I have been quite unreasonably grouchy since I lost my patient. I’m still dealing with the incident, but there’s no need to take it out on other people. “Fair enough,” I concede. “Do you know, I can’t remember the last time you were in town on my birthday? Where were you last year?”
He thinks for a minute. “Tangier, I think,” he says. “Would you believe, I don’t remember? I’ll have to look at my calendar.”
“All the cities blend together after a while?”
He grimaces. “Something like that,” he admits. “Still. I am in town this year, and I’m quite looking forward to the party.”
“I’m not.”
He gives me an exasperated look as we stroll down 18th Street. “Yes, you’d rather crawl into a hole and hide.”
It’s a nice night. Even though it’s Monday, the sidewalk is crowded with people. Every restaurant we pass is full. Music wafts out of open doors. The city’s teeming with life, and I feel disconnected from it all.
“When’s your next OR day?”
“In two weeks.” I run my hands through my hair. “It’s another young person. A guy, this time, forty-one years old. He’s got three young kids.” My hands clench into fists, and I force myself to relax. “Coronary bypass. It should be routine. Until then, I’m officially on vacation, except for this damn stress workshop.”
Maddox notices my tension. “Do you want to go away?”
“I thought about it, but I changed my mind.”
We reach the crosswalk and fall silent as we wait for the light to change. Once we make our way across the street, Maddox picks up the thread of conversation. “Because of Avery?” he asks. “Because of the next fourteen weeks at Club M?”
Pretty much. “Among other things.”
His lips curl up, but thankfully, he changes the topic. “Have you talked to your parents about the tremor?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Damn it. Maddox nags like a champion. “Because they’ll freak out,” I grit out. “I want to get a handle on this thing first. There’s no point worrying them prematurely.”
“You want to know what I think this is?” He doesn’t wait for me to ask. “You’re afraid. That woman died on your table, and it’s jolted you. Look at the way you described the patient you’re operating on in the next three weeks. He’s young. He has three young children. You're still shaken up, Kai, and that’s okay. You’re having a perfectly normal reaction to something traumatic. But don’t make this a bigger deal than it needs to be. Shit happened. Life sucks sometimes. You’ve got to face your fears.”
“You’re right,” I retort. “Shit does happen. Life does suck. And yes, I have to face my fears. So tell me, Maddox. Have you talked to your brother recently? Or contacted your biological father.”
He looks away, his jaw tightening. “Touché.”
I don’t want to think about what Maddox is saying. Then there’s Avery’s reappearance into my life, and that comes with a whole new set of fears. The kind of loss I felt after she left—I’m not prepared to face that kind of blinding grief again. We’d only been together for two weeks, but I’d known after the first day that she was perfect for me. She’d left such a deep void that I’ve spent ten years of my life afraid of love, shying away from commitment and closeness, avoiding intimacy.
She chose Victor Lowell once over Maddox and me. There’s a part of me that wonders if push came to shove, that she’ll make that choice all over again.
We reach our cars. “I’ll see you on Friday,” Maddox says.
“The stress workshop runs from noon until two. If you drop by at one, maybe I can duck out early.”
He laughs. “I don’t think so, buddy. Meditation is going to be good for you.”
17
Avery
I check my bank account at nine the next morning. True to his word, Maddox has transferred five hundred thou
sand dollars into it. I take a deep breath and release the tension I didn’t know I carried inside.
Seeing Victor yesterday shook me far more than I’m willing to admit. Going back to Surrey… Even the thought makes my stomach churn. I’d been miserable in Victor’s home. I’d had to account for every pound I spent, every minute of my time. I’d been a prisoner there.
Would I have gone back to him to save my mother? Thanks to Maddox, I’ll never have to find out.
I pour myself a cup of coffee with shaking hands and dial my parents’ Chelsea home. My father picks up on the third ring. “It’s Avery,” I tell him.
He sounds surprised to hear from me. “Hello.”
That’s not the warmest greeting in the world. Maybe I interrupted him in the middle of something. Or maybe my mother’s taken a turn for the worse. “Is mum okay?”
“As well as can be,” he replies.
I take a deep breath. “I have the money,” I tell him. “Send me your banking details, and I’ll wire it to you. It might take a couple of days to get to you, but it should be in your account by the end of the week.”
“You have the money?” He sounds like he doesn’t quite believe me. “All of it? Already?”
You’re welcome, dad. “Five hundred thousand dollars,” I reply. “I checked this morning’s exchange rate. It should be enough for mum’s treatment.”
“But how?” he splutters.
What’s with the questions? “A friend loaned it to me.”
“A friend?” His voice sharpens with suspicion.
I count three to make myself calm down. My father’s not himself. The stress of my mother’s illness has got to be getting to him. I need to be more patient, more understanding. “Yes, father. A friend. Is mum around? Can I talk to her?”
“She’s not at home. She’s having tea with Lady Wessop.”
The hair on the back of my neck rises. Lady Alice Wessop had been one of Victor’s closest friends. More than anyone, she’d made me feel out of place and unwelcome. She’d been quite infatuated with Victor, and I think our sudden marriage had taken her by surprise. During the two years I’d been married to Victor, she’d been endlessly critical of everything I wore, did or said. She would constantly complain about me to him. “I don’t mean to tell tales, darling,” she’d say. “But I was at your house yesterday, and your wife was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables along with the help. Do tell her that’s not done, would you?”
Of course, Victor would fly into a rage and yell at me for befriending all the wrong people.
It isn’t as if my parents didn’t know. I’d told them everything when I left Victor, convinced that they’d understand why I couldn’t go back to him.
And now, my mother’s having tea with Alice Wessop. “I didn’t know they were in touch,” I say carefully, gripping the phone so hard that my knuckles turn white.
“Oh yes. They’re quite good friends,” Jeremy Welch replies carelessly. “Have been for years. I’ll get your mother to ring you when she returns.”
Still no thanks. No ‘good job, Avery.’
They’re your parents, Avery. Stop being selfish.
“Do you know when the immunotherapy treatments will begin? If you need, I can fly to Germany. I’m sure you could use the help.”
“No, no.” He dismisses my concern. “There’s no need. I’m sure you have your own life to live.”
“I care about mum’s health, father.”
“We all do,” he says sharply.
I stare blankly into the distance, vaguely disconcerted, wondering what the hell just happened.
It’s probably nothing. Father was never good at dealing with illness, and he’s got to be under a lot of pressure now. Besides, he hasn’t talked to you in years. There’s bound to be some awkwardness there.
“Mum’s going to be fine,” I say gently, wishing there wasn’t this distance between us. “She’ll pull through. She’s always been a fighter, you know that.”
“Yes, yes, I know. I have to run, Avery.”
He hangs up.
I know it’s an unworthy thought, but the way my father’s treating me right now, I feel like an ATM and nothing more.
18
Avery
On Wednesday, I meet Maggie late at night for drinks. “Thanks for coming out,” I tell her gratefully. “I could really use a friendly ear.”
“If you hadn’t called me, I’d have called you,” she laughs. “I’ve been dying to hear about the sex club. Start at the beginning. Tell me everything. Leave no detail out. Did you run into Kai and Maddox?”
Wow. The events of Saturday seem so far away. So much has happened since then. “The club was… interesting,” I murmur, my cheeks heating as I remember my evening. “Forget that for a second. My father called me on Monday.”
She sits up. “Your father called after all these years? What did he want?”
“My mother has cancer.”
“Shit.” She squeezes my hand. “Avery, I’m so sorry.”
I nod, swallowing back the lump in my throat. My mother still hasn’t called me back. The cancer diagnosis must be hard on her, but I wish she’d talk to me. Let me help. I know it’s selfish for me to focus on my emotions when she’s dealing with something so difficult, but I feel left out and unwanted.
“There was an experimental procedure that the NHS wouldn’t cover. He called to ask for help paying for that.”
Something flashes across Maggie’s face, but it’s gone too quickly for me to decipher it. “Really?”
“Yeah. I could only think of one way to raise five hundred grand in a hurry. Sell my engagement ring.”
Maggie takes a sip of her wine. “The one you wouldn’t sell to pay for your own education.”
“I took it to a jeweler’s,” I continue. “That’s where things got complicated.” I fill her in on the rest of the story. Being arrested by the detectives, questioned at the police station for hours, and finally, running into Victor just outside.
Her eyes go round. “Victor was in DC?”
“Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong will go wrong. So he made me have dinner with him, and more or less tried to hold the ring hostage to make me get back together with him.”
“What. The. Fuck.”
Even retelling the story makes me shiver. “But Maddox and Kai came over later that night, and Maddox gave me five hundred grand.”
“Whoa. Back up a bit. Maddox and Kai, your long-lost crushes from ten years ago, show up at your door with half a million dollars? What am I missing?”
Wincing, I tell her about the arrangement. Fourteen evenings at Club M in exchange for five hundred thousand dollars. “I know what you’re thinking,” I tell her. “But I’m going to pay Maddox back. This isn’t what it looks like.”
Maggie signals for another round. “You have no idea what I’m thinking,” she says. “I’m wondering why I never seem to meet men who swoop in like Prince Charming and save me from the dastardly villain. Do you feel rescued or resentful?”
“Rescued. It is a bit fairy-tale like, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She sighs dreamily. “They’ve loved you from afar for ten years, and now, when you need them the most, they’re there to save you.”
If only. “I wouldn’t go that far. I get the sense that Maddox is rich enough that he won’t miss the money.”
Our drinks arrive. Maggie waits for the waiter to get out of earshot. “Five hundred g’s without a second thought. Who is this guy anyway?”
“Maddox Wake.”
She leans forward. “Maddox Wake, the photographer?” she asks. “Kiki Wake’s son? The guy in the middle of all that family drama last year?”
“Huh?” I think back. The bartender at Club M, Kiera, had said something about Maddox’s brother taking him to court. I had been curious, but I’d resisted the temptation to look it up, telling myself firmly that it was none of my business. “I guess so? I’m not sure.”
“You don’t know the story?
” She sounds faintly surprised. “I guess that makes sense. I don’t really follow DC society tabloid gossip either, but I have a client who couldn’t stop talking about it. Stuart Wake was a wealthy businessman. When he died, he left the bulk of his estate to his two sons. Gage and Maddox. However, less than a week after the will was read, Gage took Maddox to court, claiming the will was invalid because Maddox was illegitimate, the product of an affair that Kiki Wake had had. Gage claimed that she had deceived her husband and that Stuart Wake erroneously believed that Maddox was his son.”
“Seriously?” God, that’s awful. “He said that about his own mother?”
She nods. “The way I hear it, it was quite the scandal. It dragged on for a year, but eventually, the suit was dismissed, and Maddox inherited his share.” She shakes her head. “I think it was a lot of money, but still. Can you imagine how horrible it must be to learn that your own brother cares more about money?”
“Bloody hell.” I bury my face in my hands. “He gave me a crapload of money. He probably thinks I’m a gold-digger. Maggie, I’ve got to pay him back.” Whatever is happening between the three of us, I don’t want money to interfere.
“What about Victor?” Maggie asks. “What do you think he’ll do next? Do you think he’s going to press charges?”
I shiver, and goosebumps rise on my skin. “I have no idea. I left a message for the detective handling the case earlier today, but so far, I haven’t heard back. The wheels of justice don’t move especially quickly, I guess.” I groan. “Lawyers are expensive. If I want the ring, I’m probably going to have to hire one. I don’t know what to do. I really want to pay Maddox back.”
“Why did you never sell the ring before?” Maggie looks curious. “I was your roommate. I know how hard you worked to pay for your education. But you never once mentioned selling the ring. In the beginning, I thought you were sentimental.”
“I just didn’t want to give Victor an opening to reenter my life,” I say ruefully. “And of course, it happened anyway.”
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