Never Say Never: Gravel Hill Boys Book Two

26. Madison

It waslate morning by the time I stepped off the elevator and unlocked the door to my apartment. All I wanted was a shower, food, and bed. Not necessarily in that order.

I’d barely slept last night after spending it stretched across two chairs in the first-class lounge at the airport waiting for my pilot to arrive. Now after wearing the same outfit for twenty-four hours straight, I pulled the zipper and let it fall to the floor. I kicked off my shoes and padded into the kitchen where I poured myself a glass of milk and grabbed two oatmeal breakfast cookies from the package Liane had stashed in my cupboards, right next to a box of Hermès scarves I kept stored there.

I was desperate for sleep, but there was no way I could crawl into my bed with yesterday’s makeup and a day of travel ick on me.

After the fastest shower I’d ever taken, I slipped into a nightgown and yanked the covers off my bed. My sheets were as soft and dreamy as Ian’s, and my mattress was comfy but not as decadent as his had been. Despite my exhaustion, my eyes popped open and stayed open, wondering what brand it was and how I could find out without unblocking him and asking him, because that was not going to happen.

I’d tried. Or I would’ve if he hadn’t been a jerk. Kind of a jerk. He’d offered to let me stay with him and even gave me his bedroom. Of course, had I stayed, I might’ve woken up to find him curled up next to me.

Then again, it’s not like he’d bothered to stay with me the night we hooked up at the Four Seasons. Then again, it was his house. If anyone snuck out, it should’ve been me.

Actually, it was me, but it wasn’t exactly the same. And I didn’t sneak out. I left.

I rolled onto my side and punched my pillow. A small frisson of guilt settled in my chest. Ian could be clueless, but I hadn’t exactly been at my best either. And I did insult him. More than once. It’s not that I cared if he was from West Virginia. I was projecting what I anticipated Daddy and Gibby’s reaction to the baby’s father being outside—way outside—our social circle.

And while I worked with many celebrities, I couldn’t think of one that would be welcomed into my family with open arms. Captains of industry, titans of Wall Street were the preferred partners as if a relationship was a business transaction. Ian undoubtedly had millions, but that wouldn’t be enough to soothe Gibby or Daddy, especially Daddy. As for Tatty, my mother, she acted like money didn’t matter to her, despite her living an extravagant lifestyle fueled mainly by Daddy’s wealth. Now, if Ian were an attractive shaman or yogi, then she might be impressed. Otherwise, she’d most likely look down her nose at him like the rest of Philadelphia society.

I rolled onto my stomach and pressed my face into my pillow, forcing my eyes to close.

A cute little kick, however, was enough to get me to roll onto my back. Since breathing wasn’t optimal with my face buried in my pillow, it was a smart move. Guess my peanut didn’t want me starving for oxygen.

I settled onto my side, enjoying the decadence of my own Porthault sheets and rubbed my hand over my baby bump. “Satsuma,” I whispered aloud and couldn’t help but giggle. “I like it. I think that’s what I’m going to call you until you make your appearance and I settle on an actual name.” My palm stroked my belly, and I wondered how big it would get, which sent me into an immediate panic over stretch marks. I grabbed my phone and had Siri set a reminder for me to pick up some body butter. The way I’d been eating lately, I was probably already doomed to wear one-piece bathing suits for the rest of my life.

I let out a great yawn, not even bothering to cover my mouth. My eyes fluttered closed and sleep settled over me like a warm blanket.

My brain was foggy when I woke to a ringing phone. Harsh daylight streamed through the windows, which was odd. I squinted and checked the clock on the nightstand. Two o’clock.

Groggy and confused, my mind sorted through recent events to figure out why I was asleep in the middle of the day, as it all came back to me. I’d missed an entire night of sleep—other than an uncomfortable nap at the airport in Savannah, and I’d been too irritated to sleep on the plane. At least I’d finally been able to close my eyes early this morning.

A yawn was the last thing I remembered.

The house phone rang again. Grudgingly, I slipped out of bed and padded downstairs to the foyer to answer and was immediately sorry that I had.

“Ms. Enright, there’s a Mr. Donohue here to see you.”

Absolutely not. Not happening.

“Please tell him I’m not accepting callers today.”

Instead of hanging up and doing as I’d asked, the concierge covered the phone, and while the conversation was muffled, I could make out most of what he told Ian.

Unfortunately, my baby daddy—good grief, even I was doing it—insisted on speaking to me. I should’ve hung up, but I was intrigued listening to the argument between the concierge and Ian. Had it been Jerry manning the desk downstairs, he would’ve picked Ian up and carried him out of the building. I wasn’t sure who was on this morning, but I didn’t recognize the voice.

“Sir, I’m asking you to leave. Ms. Enright is not tak?—”

A scuffle ensued and Ian’s voice soon came on the line.”

“Madison? Are you still there?”

Hang up. Hang up.

Why wasn’t I hanging up?

“I know you’re there. Listen to me. I flew all the way up here to talk to you. The least you can do is listen.”

Before I could clap my hand over my mouth, I hmphed in disgust.

“C’mon, babe. Talk to me.”

What the…?

“Babe?” I growled into the phone. “Are you for real? I am not your babe.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Force of habit.”

And there was the exact reason this man could not be in our lives.

“Go back to Savannah, Ian. I have nothing to say to you, and you have nothing to say to me that I care to hear.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You had the chance to talk to me. All we did was argue.”

“We barely had a chance to do anything. You came, you napped, we ate, you insulted me, and then you went to bed. I wouldn’t call any of that a chance at anything.”

“Fine. I’m sorry I insulted you. Please forgive me. I’m sure West Virginia is lovely. I was tired and cranky.”

“You got that right,” he muttered, and I was immediately reminded that there was no way I could have a civil conversation with this man. I should just have my attorneys deal with him.

“Could you please put the concierge back on the phone?”

He must have assumed I was going to tell the concierge to let him in, because he did as I asked.

“Please tell him to leave. I’m not interested in meeting with him or speaking to him, and I don’t want him coming upstairs. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course.”

“Thank you. Don’t disturb me again on his behalf. Good day.”

I hung up with a deep, weary sigh. That man got to me like no one I’d ever met before. Admitting defeat, I grabbed another breakfast cookie, ignoring the number of calories I was ingesting, and went back to bed where I intended to sleep until tomorrow morning.