by KB Winters
I was lost in memories when I registered the sharp sound of clicking heels followed by an even sharper, “Remington?”
Shit.
I whirled around to face Madge as she came walking down the polished pavers that created a path that wrapped all through the different gardens planted in the backyard.
“Good afternoon, Mother.”
As expected, some sort of beverage was swirling around the inside of a crystal flute in her right hand. She was wearing a sun hat larger than most patio umbrellas and a white pantsuit that seemed to be reflecting the sun, making her absolutely blinding as she approached.
“Having a nice time…gardening?” I asked, trying to keep my lips from twitching into a sarcastic smile.
“What on earth are you doing here?” she asked, scowling at me.
All right. Straight to business, it would appear.
“I’m here to talk about my bank accounts, credit cards, why you feel you have to ruin my life. We never finished our conversation,” I answered, keeping my tone calm and smooth. For whatever reason, she was already in a foul mood and I knew if I had even a glimmer of hope of resolving this, I’d need to tread lightly.
No matter how much it tortured me.
“That would have been hard to do, considering you left the party long before dinner was even served.” She walked past me and set her drink down on the patio table.
“I wasn’t in a party mood.” I closed the gap between us and stared down at her as she removed her sunglasses, revealing her steel-colored eyes that were narrowed in my direction.
“Remington, darling, this really isn’t a good time.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. My patience with her had disappeared many, many years ago, and it hadn’t found it’s way back. “To be frank, Mother, I don’t care. You’ve had your fun, but your little game is over. I’m not leaving until you agree to release my accounts. For God’s sake, I’m a grown man.”
Her eyes flicked over my agitated features and she sighed. “Well, I suppose I can arrange something. I am happy to hear you got a good report from Claire.”
“Claire?” My mind fired at the name. The name rang a bell, but I’d fucked so many women and as I flipped through my mental Rolodex of women, I couldn’t remember anyone named Claire.
Madge’s lips spread into a curved smile. Shit. If she was happy, it most likely meant that I wasn’t about to be. “Yes, darling. Don’t you remember? Claire was very taken by you, but it seems that you turned her away. I must say, I am quite impressed. She is a stunning girl, if you like that trailer trash, bargain-basement kind of look.”
Realization hit me like a bolt of lightning straight from Mt. Olympus. My entire body seized up as my mind was filled with the images of the busty blonde from the club a week prior. Claire had been the name of the girl with the tits that kept falling out of her dress who wanted to take me home with her bitchy-looking friend for a threesome.
But, how did Madge know about any of that? JJ had sworn to me up and down that he wasn’t following me.
“Who do you have following me? Is JJ behind this? I swear to God, I’ll break his fucking neck!”
All intent to play it cool was left in the dust as my eyes burned.
Madge sighed, apparently immune to my seething rage. “No. Claire actually told me.”
I snapped to attention. “What? Why would she talk to you?”
“I hired her to sleep with you.”
All the blood in my body drained to my feet and the backyard starting spinning. “You what?”
My family had gone through some pretty messed-up shit over the years, but this newest revelation had to be the sickest thing dug up to date. My own mother, hiring women to sleep with me?
“It’s quite simple, Remington. Don’t act so scandalized. I needed to know if you were still up to your old tricks or not. I told Claire that if she could get you to take her home with you, that I would pay her a thousand dollars. She came back the next day and told me that she’d done her best, and although there was some seedy behavior in a bathroom, of all places, you left her alone.”
My stomach rolled at each word coming out of Madge’s mouth. With a string of sentences, she’d managed to flip my world completely upside down.
I brought my eyes back to my mother and it was like everything faded from sight, except for the self-satisfied smirk on her Botox-riddled face.
“What the fuck?”
“Language,” she reminded me sternly.
“No. No, no, no. You don’t get to tell me what is right and wrong anymore. Not after you go and pull some crazy, batshit stunt like that. You are fucking crazy. I’m done.”
I brushed my hands together for emphasis and turned to walk away before I either passed out, or hauled Madge up out of her Gucci shoes and tossed her through a window.
“Remington, stop! Right now,” she called out.
I stopped, my hand just brushing the door handle to go back inside. I spun around and stared at her.
“You passed the test. I’ll unfreeze the trust.”
Everything I wanted was so close. So within my grasp. But for the first time, I saw everything through clear eyes. The money attached to her offer was stained with the same poison that was running through her veins. If I took it, I’d always be associated with that filth.
“I don’t want it. Keep your fucking money and leave me the fuck alone.”
“Remington!” She all but stamped her foot. “Don’t be ridiculous. What will you do without money? Work?” she scoffed. I steeled myself, trying to hold on to the little respect I still had for my only parent.
“The better question is, Mother, what are you going to do without me?”
She gaped at me, and for once in her miserable life, she was speechless.
“I’m the only person in this whole entire world who should matter to you, but you run around wasting all your fucking time kissing the ass of people with money, power, fame, whatever. What does that really get you? I’ve never wanted that life. And every time you try and fit me into the mold of what the perfect son looks like—it only makes things more jacked up between us. I’m done with you. I don’t want any of this.”
Madge gathered herself and released a long, slow cackle of a laugh. “You say that now, but you will come crawling back, and when you do, I am going to remind you of this moment. You can’t hold a job—you have no experience or skills to fall back on. Remington, this is it for you.”
“Not anymore,” I said, and without waiting another split second, I went inside the house and shut the door behind me.
***
“What do you think, man?” JJ asked, sidling up to me.
After the fallout from my meeting with Madge, I’d taken a few days off from the rest of the world. I spent my time holed up in my penthouse, drinking away memories of my past life and eventually building ambitions for the new. Once I’d sobered up, I’d called JJ and met up with him for lunch.
JJ was the type of guy with his hand in about ten different pots. He had his PI business, which put him in touch with some of the city’s biggest movers and shakers and made him the perfect guy to spill my restaurant ambitions to. As expected, the very next day he put me in touch with a real estate guy who had a pocket listing on a space downtown. The location was primo and needed very little by way of renovations.
But, signing the lease would eat up the majority of what money I’d stashed away in my savings account.
“I think it’s awesome. Thanks for hooking me up,” I replied.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s going to be great. You have any idea on a head chef?” JJ asked.
“I’ve put out a couple feelers. I know a guy over at one of those food competition shows. He knows all the good ones,” I answered, doing another three-sixty spin to see all of the angles again.
It was just what I needed. The final touch to starting my new life.
And with a new restaurant to run, I wouldn’t have time to le
t Livvie haunt me.
***
JJ and I stopped at a bar to get a couple celebratory drinks after I’d submitted an offer on the restaurant space. We were two beers in, watching a basketball game on the giant TV plastered on the wall, and I’d just caught the eye of two hourglass-shaped brunettes that were seated on the other side of the room when my phone rang.
My heart jumped at the vibration in my pocket. No matter how many times I told myself the Livvie situation was over, I still jolted every time the phone rang, wondering if it would be her. The night she’d kicked me out, I’d followed her instructions and left before she got out of the shower—well…okay, that wasn’t a hundred percent true…I’d actually tried to join her in the shower but that led to another argument and since I wasn’t able to give her what she said she’d wanted, I finally left, but not before programming my contact info into her phone and telling her to call when she changed her mind.
Which I was confident she’d do. Granted, it was taking longer than I’d expected, but whatever. Eventually, she’d cave and come back to me. Everything about her body language told me that I was the best thing she’d ever had, and there was no way she would be able to ignore that primal instinct forever.
The number on the screen didn’t register and I felt my hope drop off as I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Remington Maddox. Christopher Diaz. How’s it going, bro?”
“Bro? Really?” I scoffed and shook my head. “What do you want? I’ve actually been meaning to call you,” I said, gritting my teeth together.
“Oh? What can I do for you?” he replied.
“You can tell me why the fuck you think it’s okay to try to dupe and then threaten a woman when she doesn’t fall for your bullshit business tactics?”
My blood was pounding hard in my head and I knew my face was turning red. Every muscle in my body was on alert, tense and coiled.
“Remy, maybe you should stay out of things you don’t understand. The music industry is a cutthroat business. It’s best for inexperienced boys like you to stay out of it. As for your friend, Olivia, she and I will be just fine. She’s already taken me up on my offer,” Christopher answered, his voice a sharp, correcting tone.
My free hand was balled into a fist and JJ was starting to look alarmed as he watched me.
“Christopher, she’s mine. Stay away from her,” I growled.
Christopher let out a melodic laugh. “Oh, Remy. Always good for a laugh, just like the old days, back in school.”
“You mean like how you’re always chasing after what you can’t have, simply because I can?” I replied.
“Hmm. We remember things differently. If I recall, you were always chasing my sloppy seconds.”
I opened my mouth to throw another barb at him, but he spoke first. “In any case, I was calling to see if you would like to attend a little dinner party Tessa and I are hosting. Olivia will be there, of course. But after all this…unpleasantry…perhaps it’s best we kept our distance. So, apologies for interrupting your day. Cheers.”
“Slimy son of a bitch.” I slammed the phone down on the table, not caring if I broke the phone in two.
“What the hell was that all about?” JJ asked me, his face growing more horrified by the second.
I didn’t even have words to explain it. The pulsing anger flooding my veins seemed to take over all rational thoughts. All I knew was that I needed to find a way to get Livvie to trust me, before that snake got to her first.
I took a deep breath and then exhaled. “JJ, I need you to get some info for me.”
Chapter Eight — Livvie
“What are you thinking about over there?”
I turned at Christopher’s question but I had no idea where to begin.
We were standing shoulder to shoulder at the bar of yet another packed downtown venue, listening to a new band that had just moved to LA from the Midwest.
“Hey, is everything okay?” he asked, running his fingertips down my arm. I shivered when he touched me, and he immediately noticed. The smile that swept across his face could melt an igloo in the middle of December.
“Yeah, of course.” I offered him a smile that took more energy than it should have. I hadn’t been getting much sleep and something about the lack of sleep and the whirling thoughts in my mind was sapping all my strength.
Over the past few weeks, Christopher had taken me on a backstage pass to every hot spot in town and put me on a first name basis with a lot of the biggest managers and owners in the business. I’d gone from no connections at all to being in the same room as some of the biggest power players in the city. Doors and windows were bursting open for me and my bands. It was exciting—but overwhelming—all at once.
“You want to try and talk to these guys after their set?” he asked, glancing over at the sweat-soaked band on stage. The lead singer was slaying his song and the entire crowd was screaming in appreciation.
In reality, they were the type of band I’d love to talk to, but I also knew I wouldn’t know what to say if I could get a moment of their time. I had three bands already on my roster, and although it had been well over a month since signing the first ones, I had yet to really cobble anything together for them to do. Christopher had offered Downside a record deal, and since then, I hadn’t heard from them, and the other two bands in my care were getting antsy, wondering what their next move was going to be.
If only I knew. All of my time had been absorbed by outings with Christopher, and while I knew it would all pay off—I was starting to feel a little raggedy around the edges.
“Nah, I think I’m going to call it a night,” I answered. “I need to do some real work tomorrow.”
Christopher laughed. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Paperwork and stuff.” I knew I was being cagey, and from the look on Christopher’s face, he wasn’t impressed with my answer.
“Hey, what’s it going to take to get you to relax?” He massaged his thumbs into my knotted shoulder blades and stepped even closer.
“That’s a pretty good start,” I replied, letting my shoulders sag against the pressure as his fingers expertly worked my sore muscles.
I wore a low-back tank dress and Christopher’s fingertips were warm and soothing against my bare skin. He leaned in and I shivered as his breath ran across the sweet spot on my neck. “You know, you’re right. Let’s get out of here. My place isn’t very far, and I guarantee we can work out all these…kinks.”
His suggestion vibrated through my body. Christopher was a very attractive man, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel some sort of chemistry between the two of us, especially when we always managed to be together late at night, in dark clubs, or on steamy dance floors. Flirting with him was fun and easy—but so far, I’d managed to not let things get too carried away. After the fiasco with Remy, I knew the worst thing I could do would be to mix business and pleasure—again.
And right now, business was all that mattered.
Before I could think of an appropriate reply that would help me sidestep my way out of Christopher’s partial embrace, my phone started buzzing on the tabletop in front of me.
Saved by the bell.
Or so I thought. When I looked down, Remy’s name was flashing across the screen. The anxiety that had been building jolted into full-blown panic.
I snatched for the device, but my reflex wasn’t quick enough and Christopher caught a peek over my shoulder. “Remy? Why is he calling you?” He dropped his hands from my shoulders and turned me around with a swift tug on my arm.
“Olivia, I don’t want you talking or interacting with Remington. He’s bad for you—bad for your business,” Christopher said. His face had shifted from relaxed and easygoing to stony and borderline angry. The transformation startled me and my mind scrambled as I tried to think of what to say. I didn’t appreciate him telling me who I could and couldn’t speak to, but at the same time, he was the only one who really could help me and make my busi
ness dreams come true.
Besides, it wasn’t like I wanted to talk to Remy anyway. I still hadn’t figured out what the hell had happened between us and was happier to chalk it up to a moment of weakness and move on, than sit around pining for him.
I slipped the phone into my pocket, feeling the vibration kick on again moments later. I offered Christopher my best smile and ran a hand down his strong forearm. “Trust me, Christopher—he’s the last man in the world I want to talk to right now.”
Christopher surveyed me for a moment, as though running me through some sort of pass or fail, human lie detector test. Then, in a flash, his features shifted again and he relaxed his posture. His fingers clasped around mine and he leaned back in to me, his lips grazing my ear.
“Tomorrow?” I asked before taking a step back, just out of his reach.
He smiled and gave a simple nod. “I’ll send a car at seven.”
I nodded, and then turned and hurried out of the club before he could catch me again.
The ride home was spent poring over the evidence I had to work with. Remy had offered to help me with my business, helped me land my first clients, I believed him, then he bailed with no explanation.
Then, after a month of being completely MIA, he shows up with some cryptic warning about Christopher and his intentions. We have sheet-scorching sex, I kick him out, and then he proceeds to spend the next week blowing up my phone. Christopher, on the other hand, offers my band a record deal, shows me around town and helps me make contacts. But, when I try to pin him down for exact details of the record deal, he gets cagey and changes the subject.
All my analyzing didn’t do me any good and by the time I arrived home, I was more confused than ever. I decided against listening to Remy’s voicemail, knowing it would only tangle things up further. I switched my phone off and trudged upstairs to my apartment.
It was nearly three in the morning, so I tiptoed down the hall to my room, careful not to make any sounds that would wake up Tessa.
“Livvie?” a muffled voice called out into the darkness.