And too bad he sold the damn resort out from under her. She’d had so many plans for it, new ideas to implement that would have hopefully made it even more profitable.
Guess we’ll never find out now.
She shoved the sad pang out of her soul. Now was not the time for that kind of bullshit melancholy.
Maddison handed over her master key card and her physical set of keys to Mr. Gonzales. “I’ve already instructed Darren to delete all of my access to the systems, and he has my work cell phone. Thank you for the faith you had in me, and for giving me the opportunity to work for you. I’ve enjoyed it.” She offered him a hug, which he accepted. For all his faults, he had been a decent boss. She never was sure if he was uncomfortable with her being trans, or was worried what others would think if they found out. In the end, it totaled the same—he was uncomfortable with that knowledge getting out.
At least she believed him when he said he wasn’t the one who’d outed her to Holmes.
She picked up her personal keys, shouldered her purse, rounded her desk, and offered Holmes a handshake. “Life takes funny turns, Mr. Holmes. Best wishes on your venture.”
She wasn’t sure he was going to shake, at first. He finally did.
“Can we please talk about this? Alone? Is it because I had deep background pulled on you? Because if it—”
“No, I’m sorry, that won’t be possible. My decision is final. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I told my friend I’d be there this evening, and I don’t want them to worry about me.”
“When are you clearing out your things?” Holmes asked.
“I’m completely moved out.” She smiled at the obvious shock on his face over that revelation. “The resort is now completely in your capable hands, Mr. Holmes.”
She hoped he wouldn’t follow her, and fortunately, he didn’t.
The valet brought her car around and while she was stopped at a light, she texted Fen.
On my way. Have Waze up so you can track me.
She smiled at the smiley face Fen sent in reply.
Next stop—Sarasota.
* * * *
Monday night, Milo stared at the splashes of color on his living room walls. He’d picked ten different colors and painted small swatches on several walls so he could look at them in a wide variety of light. He didn’t want something that would make it look like a cave.
He also found himself nearly paralyzed by indecision, something he wasn’t used to feeling.
In addition to the painted swatches, he had dozens more paint chips taped to various walls all over the house.
How sad does this make me, that I haven’t done this before?
He’d moved into the house two years before he’d started dating Linda. Back then, he’d been too busy to think about painting, hadn’t really had the money to do it, and then when he met Linda she discouraged him from doing it.
There were a lot of things he wanted to do to the house, actually, including redoing the floors. He hated having carpet, but Linda had liked it.
He wanted a damn dog.
She’d hated animals and the “mess” they made.
He stood there, staring at the colors.
It’s time I start living life for me.
The worst that could happen was that he picked a color he ended up hating and had to repaint it. That wasn’t the end of the world, either.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly let it out. Reminding himself to just breathe had finally grown easier now, too. Maybe he didn’t have furniture, or a relationship, but for the first time in years, he finally felt a modicum of peace.
Something he relished. He’d had another good night at Venture on Saturday. Compared to his first visit to the club, now that he’d known what to expect, he hadn’t found the scenes he’d watched to be…shocking or disturbing. If anything, he’d been better able to pay attention to the techniques used, especially with Grant and Darryl pointing stuff out to him as they watched others playing.
And Darryl had even volunteered to Grant he could let Milo take a few swats at him with implements.
Milo had taken them up on it, wanting to learn as much as he could and not waste a single opportunity.
He definitely wasn’t a hard-core sadist, but it was interesting to try new things.
Yesterday he’d spent time doing more research, in addition to working out for a couple of hours in the gym, something else that had slipped over the past couple of weeks ahead of the divorce, and then…relaxing.
Relaxing was the thing he hadn’t done much of in too damn long, he realized.
He’d even tried sofa shopping again—another strike-out, though.
But…
He felt peaceful. He wouldn’t take that for granted at all.
Now if he could make it through that coming Saturday’s rope class without embarrassing the hell out of himself, that’d be great.
* * * *
Between fighting rush-hour traffic in Miami, and stopping for gas and dinner on the way, it was nearly eleven by the time Mads pulled into Fen and Joel’s driveway.
And both men were standing outside, waiting on her, when she did.
Waze, FTW.
It took everything she had not to burst into relieved tears when the men surrounded her for a hug, Fen in front and Joel in back.
“Thank you so much for this, guys.”
“When are you going to tell us the full story, sweetie?” Fen asked.
She felt her face heat and was glad it was dark out. “What do you mean.”
“Don’t lie to us,” Joel said. “Even I can tell there was more of a story.”
She knew there was no way they’d let her get out of telling it, either.
“Let me get inside, go to the bathroom, and change clothes, and then I’ll tell you. Preferably with an alcoholic beverage.”
Joel grabbed her bags for her while Fen led her inside. Not only had they set everything up in her room for her, Fen and Joel had unpacked stuff like they expected her to be living there for a while.
That finished her. “Thank you,” she tearfully sniffled against Fen’s shoulder.
“Everything else is in the garage,” Joel said. “And you don’t need to move out in a hurry, either. We’re good with you staying here for a while.”
She hugged him. “This means a lot to me, thank you.”
They left her alone to change, and when she finally joined them in the kitchen, Fen handed her a cold bottle of beer, already opened. “Spill, honey.”
After taking a deep breath, she did, watching rage fill both men’s faces as she gave them a blow-by-blow.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t tell us that before,” Joel said. “We’d have been over there punching the fucker’s lights out.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Or Mom and Dad.”
“Do they even know you’re here?” Fen asked.
“No. I’m going to stop by tomorrow and talk to them. Please don’t tell them the full story, huh? They don’t need to know.”
“Or Fen’s dad,” Joel said. “He’ll want to punch the guy out, and I think they’re going this weekend.”
“Oh, shit, I totally forgot about that!” Fen said. “Dammit.”
She took another sip from her bottle. “Well, they can cancel without penalty.” She wryly smiled. “The main reason they were going was to check up on me for Mom and Dad. Don’t bother denying it.”
“Yeah,” Fen said. “Pretty much.” He walked around the counter and draped his arms around her from behind. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” he gently said.
She patted his arms. Fen was literally like the brother she’d never had. He was the one person she could cuddle up with because he always made her feel safe. And now Joel, too, even though she hadn’t known him as long.
When the tears hit, she hadn’t been expecting them. Joel disappeared and returned with a box of tissues for her, handing her one and taking her beer from her, setting it on the counter in front of her.
“Dammit! I worked my ass off there,” she said. “I worked so freaking hard to save that place, and then he turns around and sells it?” She dabbed at her eyes. “Then Douchebag McDouchenstein tells me I’m his ‘type’? What the fuck does he think I’m going to do, just spread my legs for him and tell him thanks for turning me into his personal wank fodder? Fuck him.”
“I know, sweetie,” Fen gently said. “It sucks, and it’s not fair.”
“Is it too much to have a guy want me for me? I’m not some damn freak.”
Joel wrapped his arms around both of them. “I think we need to introduce you to the Frightful Five this weekend,” he said.
“Oooh! Eliza said they’ll be there,” Fen said. “There’s a rope class Saturday.”
“At this point, I’m willing to try anything, if it means I meet a decent guy.” She blew her nose. “Hell, I’d settle for a platonic roomie I could introduce to my parents as a boyfriend just to keep them off my case and keep them from worrying.”
By the time she finished crying and finished her beer, she hadn’t finished feeling sorry for herself.
Not by a long shot.
But it was close to midnight, and she knew she needed to let Fen and Joel get to bed, because they had to work the next day.
Except she wasn’t even close to being tired.
She changed into her swimsuit, a cute, hot pink one-piece with a skirt on it that she’d fallen in love with when she’d seen it, and headed out to the pool. She’d rarely used the pool at the resort because she’d felt self-conscious about her coworkers. She didn’t have a problem going down to the beach and swimming there or sunning herself, but wearing yoga pants and a sports bra to work out in was different than a swimsuit.
It just…was.
Guess that’s not a problem anymore.
The warm water was perfect, and she swam slow laps before rolling onto her back and staring up at the stars.
There were worse positions to be in than the one she currently found herself.
Far worse.
She had a gentle landing thanks to loving friends who were adopted family.
And they’d be working just as hard to help her next launch be successful, too.
It could always be worse.
Chapter Nine
Tuesday morning when Mads crawled out of bed a little after eight, she found Fen had left her a note on the kitchen counter, next to the coffeemaker.
Call me on my cell if you need anything today, sweetie. I’ll stop by at lunchtime to check on you. — F.
He really did love her, bless his heart. She couldn’t have survived what she went through in college if it hadn’t been for him. Not and made it through it relatively sane. He’d been willing to withdraw from USF and move to Gainesville to live with her to help her out after the attack.
Except she couldn’t do that to him. Make him put his life on hold for something he had no fault in.
Between Fen’s love and friendship, and the love and support of her parents—and a damned good counsellor—she’d gotten through that and returned to school eventually. Not UF, but a business degree was a business degree.
And it’d allowed her to go back to work at the resort there in Sarasota, giving her valuable work experience she wouldn’t have otherwise had.
Which had allowed her to land the job in Miami.
And now?
Now I’m back to where I started, except without the level of emotional carnage, and no physical wounds.
But she did now have valuable work experience and an excellent, successful track record to proudly show prospective employers.
She poured herself a cup of coffee and stupidly found herself crying again when she realized she wouldn’t be able to just walk down to the cafe on-site and get herself a cafecito whenever she wanted one.
No more gorging herself on picadillo and fried plátanos as a special treat for having worked out harder that week.
No more bakery-fresh Cuban bread to toast in the morning.
Goddamned Holmes.
Fen had even tucked all of her bathroom stuff in the guest bathroom that was now hers to use. She dug out one of the bath bombs Fen had given her and set herself up with a nice, long, hot soak as she scrolled through her e-mail on her phone.
Mom is going to stress out.
She literally had no complaints about her parents, even when she internally griped about how overprotective they were.
Maddison was all too aware of how damned lucky she was. They’d always been loving and supportive of her even early on, when they were clueless how to deal with her. Maddison had met plenty of trans folks who’d been disowned at best, and nearly killed at worst, by their families of origin.
She’d never bitch about her parents. Not like that. Ever. Her life could have been one long, non-stop story of misery, instead of one dark chapter that could have happened to anyone.
By the time Fen arrived a few minutes after noon bearing Greek salads and lattes, Maddison had gotten dressed, fixed her hair, put on makeup, and had made one pass through local help wanted listings as a starting point.
“Look at you, gorgeous!” Fen brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad yet?”
“Yours or mine?”
“Yes.” He smiled.
“I’m going to go by after lunch. I’ll surprise them.” She perched on one of the barstools at the counter.
“They’ll be surprised, all right.”
“Thank you guys again for this. You have no idea how grateful I am.”
“Sweetie, you don’t have to thank us. It’s a relief to have you here and know you’re safe.”
“You might get yelled at by our parents for not ratting me out.”
He shrugged. “You’re an adult. They need to accept that.”
“I don’t feel like an adult. I feel like a damned failure.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. Fuck that guy, anyway. In the metaphorical sense, of course, because like you said, ew.”
“You know the sad thing?”
“What?”
“Had he not made a point of telling me he already knew I was trans, and emphasizing that was kind of his thing, I might have actually slept with him. He wasn’t bad-looking.”
“But he was fifty.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes older guys are better. They’re not hung-up as much and they know more.” She took a bite of her salad. “Or they’re creepy assholes, but you know, it’s a fifty-fifty shot.” She smiled.
“I’m not knocking older guys. Hello, Pot, meet Kettle. Joel’s thirteen years older than me, and I’m not complaining.”
“I was going to mention that.”
“But thirteen isn’t old enough to be my dad, just my older brother. Literally. We’ll make sure we tell Eliza you’re cool with older guys, though. Broadens the dating pool. We’ll need to sit down with her and tell her all about you.”
“Does she know I’m trans?”
“No, but she’ll be cool with that. You’ll really like them. Oh, you met them at our wedding.” He held one hand way up. “Rusty.” Then held it about his eye level. “And Eliza. As opposed to Scrye.” He held his hands wide apart but about the same height he had for Rusty. “And June.” He moved them down to chest level, only held just inches apart. “June’s my yoga-slash-pole dance instructor, and Scrye helped Joel install our pole.”
“Oh!” She laughed. “Okay, yeah. They all seemed really nice.”
“Oooh! I just had an idea!”
“What?”
“Tonight, you and me, pole dancing class! It’s just me and June right now. Please? If you sign up as a member, you can drop in on any of the classes, including yoga.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, but she reconsidered. “Do I need anything special for an outfit?”
“What do you usually wear to work out in?”
“Sports bra and yoga pants.”
“Don’t you have any booty shorts?”
“Yeah, but you told me you needed special…foundation garments.”
He winced. “Let me talk to June. I know she said women sometimes wear two pairs of panties for coverage.”
She arched an eyebrow at him.
“I don’t know, okay?” He flapped his hands at her. “I don’t know what you usually use or how you…arrange stuff, all right?”
He was adorable when he got flustered, and it made her laugh. “I love you, dude.”
“I love you, too. And I missed you. Even if you did get my ass drunk and got me to pole dance on stage.”
“Where’s the trophy?”
“In our bedroom. Oh, and the code for the playroom door is 1121.”
She thought about it. “You did not.”
He grinned. “Joel doesn’t even know why.”
She grinned. “Little snot.”
He kissed her cheek. “Bestie loves ya.”
“Bestie loves ya back.”
Clue. Her favorite movie ever. The code Fen had used was a callback to a line in the movie when they were trying to figure out how many shots had been fired from a revolver.
After Fen finished lunch and returned to work, Mads tidied up the kitchen, grabbed her purse, and headed out. Best to get this over with as soon as possible, because if she didn’t, she’d catch holy hell from them.
Her mom was home, but her dad wasn’t. When her mom opened the door, she scowled. “What happened?”
“Hello, Mom. I love you, too.”
Her mom hugged her tightly. “Hello, I love you, what the hell happened?”
Okay, so it’d be the hard way.
She gave her the overview—minus the creepiness with Holmes, duh.
At least her mom shelved the She-Hulk persona trying to come out. “Well, that sucks. Why the hell didn’t you ask us to move in here?”
“Because I don’t plan on being with Fen and Joel very long. I’m not a baby, Mom.”
Her mom tucked a strand of Maddison’s hair behind her ears, and unlike when Holmes did it, it wasn’t the slightest bit creepy. “I worry,” she quietly said.
“That’s why I’m with Fen and Joel right now. And even better, the friend of theirs who introduced them to each other? They’re going to sic her on trying to find me a guy.”
Searching for a Heart Page 7