Chapter 10
Sunshine filters softly through my curtains, the familiar sounds of steady First Avenue traffic and rustling trees drifting up. Despite being born a Jersey girl, New York has grown on me quickly, feeling like home after only a few short months.
I stretch lazily, remembering last night, smiling as I spot the glittering rock on my left hand.
If only it were for real.
Heat rushes through me when I remember our unhinged interlude in the back of his black Mercedes. But I still want more.
With a sigh, I shake the feeling away and get up, the alluring scent of coffee drawing me from bed to our cozy living room. I wander out to find Grace and Aria eating fresh bagels and chattering on our cozy sofa.
“Come on, Sleeping Beauty, we”re dying to hear every little detail!” Grace sing-songs. “Give us peasants all the inside scoop from your royal ball last night!”
I roll my eyes good-naturedly, grabbing a cup of coffee from the kitchen before I curl up next to my sisters.
“You did well spotting that dress for me. It made an impression, and I felt like royalty.” I grin and wink at Grace, taking a sip.
Aria turns to me, her chin propped eagerly on her hands. “You have to spill all the details! Did Jack live up to the hype? Was he charming? And what about the other guests? How were they dressed? Tell me about the food!”
One day, I will share the complicated story with Aria. For now, the dreamy version is good enough. While it”s crucial to ensure her well-being, if I”m honest, I also hope that Jack will acknowledge that our relationship is more than he makes it out to be. I just wish he would realize it a bit sooner.
“Oh, he certainly did!”
Aria grabs her phone off the coffee table, her attention instantly consumed by it.
“So, spill!” Grace leans in, taking advantage of Aria’s distractedness. “Did Jack have his hands all over you, playing the smitten fiancé card? Any interesting moments?”
I stir my coffee, debating just how much to share. Taking advantage of Aria not paying attention to us, I subtly shift closer to Grace, voice lowered.
“I mean, he definitely got into the role. Had to remind myself it was all pretend. But it didn’t feel like it at all, G.”
Then I lean back and raise my voice. “I am actually headed out later to stay at Jack”s place for a while.” Seeing Aria widen her eyes in surprise, I add breezily, “But I”ll still be here plenty, of course!”
“Moving kinda quick though, no?” Aria asks, furrowing her brows together.
I shift subtly closer to Grace on the sofa. “Just makes sense to get some things moved over there.” I aim for a casual, convincing tone.
Grace smoothly redirects the conversation. “It looks like a whirlwind romance. It’s understandable they want to be together as much as possible.” Her playful nudge makes me flush. If only she knew how much.
“I guess so!” Oblivious, Aria picks up her phone and starts scrolling distractedly. “So, nowG will be dropping me off in the mornings, then?”
“Sure thing, baby girl,” Grace chimes in, rolling her eyes at me. “For a while longer at least, you’re stuck with me.”
I grin, reaching to squeeze Aria’s knee. “Never change, baby sis.”
Aria”s scrolling stops abruptly as she starts giggling uncontrollably. “Um, Mads, I think your man went viral . . .”
She turns her phone in our direction. On screen, a video plays from last night—Jack looming intimidatingly over the starstruck man asking me to dance, possessiveness etched on his face. In the background, I spot my flushed cheeks and surprised amusement.
“Oh my God, how cringy!” I cover my face with my hands.
Aria continues cackling. “Wait, it gets better. That dude posted his fanboy reaction to finding ”Goddess MadeYaLookMaddie” at the party. These comments are gold!”
She shows us her screen again where the man stares gobsmacked into his selfie camera. I have to laugh hearing Grace and Aria screech and comment about the guy’s good looks.
“Jeez, Maddie, better get used to crazy eyes on your man if he keeps punching every fan coming your way!” Grace elbows me playfully.
“He didn’t punch him,” I joke, grinning. “It was barely a shove.” But if I’m honest, his caveman display made me tingly in all the right places.
“Mads, you gotta post your dress-up video from last night now. It’s guaranteed to get you lots of new followers,” Aria chirps.
“Did you take any other clips?” Grace interjects. “I know you did. Let us see it.”
“I might have danced a bit on the car ride there,” I laugh and scroll through my phone to show them the shots.
We”re still giggling over the videos when the apartment intercom buzzes loudly. I hop up, smoothing my messy top knot.
“Yes?” I ask, poking the speaker button.
“Is this Ms. Maddie Emerson?” a male voice crackles over the line. “I”m here to help you bring your things downtown. Jack can’t make it. An unavoidable meeting came up. I’m his friend Cade.”
My eyes widen. Shoot, the time slipped away fast. I thought Jack would be stopping by and am slightly disappointed.
“Oh, um, yes! Come on up!” I buzz the man in, cringing at our messy living room and the prospect of having to shove my clothes into a suitcase.
A tall, well-built man dressed in jeans and a tailored shirt strides into our doorway. His dark blond hair appears slightly tousled. His friendly blue eyes are vaguely familiar.
“I”m Cade Neiman,” he introduces himself, extending his inked hand. “We crossed paths on your first day at Whitmore. I work closely with Jack.”
Suddenly, the memory clicks into place. I recall those tattoos snaking from beneath his dress shirt, stretching almost to his fingers. He is the man that sat next to Jack during that disastrous meeting, which I ran out of almost in tears.
As he turns to Grace, they both stall for a blink. Cade”s grin widens slowly as he extends his hand, his gaze subtly tracing her features.
“Grace,” my sister manages, a pretty blush blooming as she accepts the handshake.
“And you look like a younger replica of Grace and Maddie!” Cade flashes a friendly smile to Aria.
“Aria.” She gives a shy smile. “I”ll leave you guys to the packing madness. Homework calls.” She playfully nudges my shoulder before grabbing her textbook.
After she disappears to her room, I turn to Cade apologetically. “So sorry, I”m running way behind schedule today! Do you mind waiting a few while I pull things together?”
“No problem at all, take your time,” Cade says easily, leaning casually against the breakfast bar and eyeing Grace.
Heading to my room, I mouth to Grace, “You”re welcome.”
She smirks at me, calling, “Hurry up, sis,” as she turns to Cade, offering him a coffee.
* * *
An hour later,Cade”s sleek BMW stops in front of a stately brownstone on a peaceful West Village block.
“Wait, this is where Jack lives?” My eyes widen taking in the ivy-covered brick facade.
Cade chuckles at my stunned reaction. “He bought it when he moved back stateside.” He pops the trunk and easily lifts my suitcase as if it weighs nothing.
We climb the front steps to ring a polished brass doorbell. Moments later, the door swings open revealing an elegant middle-aged woman in a sleek black outfit.
“Mr. Neiman, good to see you again. This must be Ms. Emerson.” Her smile is both warm and professional.
Cade greets her familiarly. “Maddie, meet Elena. She runs this place flawlessly.”
The housekeeper ushers us inside the expansive foyer and directs Cade to bring my belongings up the winding staircase. “Your rooms have been fully prepared on the third floor, Miss.”
Rooms? Like in plural?
Thirdfloor?Just how sprawling is this house exactly?
I follow Elena up the endless curved staircase. We turn down a long hallway where she gestures welcomingly to my rooms. As I spin around, taking in the spacious luxury accommodations, Cade appears in the doorway.
“I left your things in the bedroom. I”ll let you settle in.”
“Thank you,” I say, still frazzled by the setting I will be living in. This place is a New Yorker’s wet dream.
“I”m sure I will see you around the office, Maddie. Have a nice rest of the weekend!” With a friendly wave, Cade descends down the stairs, leaving me standing stunned in the lavish environment.
As I spin around taking it all in, Elena smiles. “Please let me know if there is anything else you require, Ms. Emerson. Mr. Whitmore”s quarters are on the second floor. He said you should make yourself at home, and that he would see you tomorrow.”
My eyebrows lift in surprise. “Oh. So, Jack won’t be here today?”
“He called to say he will be in meetings until late.” Elena tilts her head politely. “Any preferences for dinner tonight?”
What meetings are those, I want to bite, but instead, I smile. “Oh, um . . .” I blush, unaccustomed to such personal pampering. “Anything is fine, I”m sure whatever you make will be delicious.”
“Wonderful. I”ll leave you to get settled then.”
Left to myself, I unpack my clothes in the walk-in closet before aimlessly wandering through posh rooms.
While clearly expensive, with modern art and sleek gadgets, ornate Victorian bones peek through in the detailed molding lining the high ceilings.
On the floor below, I find a large sitting room with a fireplace and several closed doors, and I figure behind one of them must be Jack’s bedroom. On the table, there is a VR headset I recognize from last week’s tour at Whitmore Tech and a laptop.
Downstairs, the double doors to a sprawling library are open. I trace leather-bound collections ranging from Aristotle to Atwood, surprised to discover a stack of recent bestsellers on building social media influence atop the heavy mahogany desk. Flipping through them, I wonder if Jack got these with me in mind before reminding myself to keep my hopes in check.
This is a strictly business arrangement. He said it multiple times.
Outside, the warm September Saturday afternoon calls me enticingly. Since I moved to New York, I haven’t had a chance to walk around downtown too much, and I decide to use the empty hours for some exploring. I change into jean shorts and a sequined open-back crop top.
“I’m heading to the park. Will be back before eight,” I call to Elena as I head out the door, phone and lip gloss crammed into pockets.
“Wait,” she calls after me, handing me a key. “Just in case I have already left for the day by the time you are back.” After she reassures herself that I’m able to let myself in, she waves at me and disappears back into the kitchen.
Washington Square Park is just a few blocks away. It brims with life in the golden afternoon light. Students sporting headphones and laptops inhabit benches and shaded patches of grass. Elderly men hunch over stone chess tables, lost in play. Near the grand fountain, a ragtag troupe of male dancers weave athletic contortions to thumping music as a gathered crowd applauds.
I survey the lively human canvas, mentally scrolling my catalog of viral videos seeking inspiration. Catchy Afrobeat pulses filter through laughing clusters.
Perfect! I queue up my remix of the same song gaining traction on TikTok dancing clips lately.
Angling the camera just so, the triumphal arch makes a striking backdrop. And action! I bounce on beat through familiar moves—hip circles, dramatic hair flips, and shimmies lifting my crop top scandalously high.
On my third run through, movement behind me catches my eye. A shirtless man around my age grins, walking closer once he seems to recognize me. I finish my final fierce hair whip, pose holding as he calls out over the music.
“Hey, you’re MadeYaLookMaddie, right? Your dance is fire, girl.”
Laughing, I wave him into the frame. “What’s your name?”
“Jace.” He flashes me a heart-stopping smile, and we quickly get into a groove, seamlessly moving together for a few takes.
“Hey, MadeYaLookMaddie, you’re blazing,” he drawls after we wrap up filming.
“This is not your first rodeo either, I can tell.”
But I barely hear his response. From the corner of my eye, I spot Jack leaning against a tree, watching us.
“Is this your man, gorgeous?” Jace nods toward Jack, giving him a friendly wave.
In response, Jack lifts his hand politely but doesn’t move from where he is standing. The edges of his smile are as sharp as glass. His expression is inscrutable, hands stuffed casually in his pockets, dominance oozing from his every pore. The crisp business casual shirt stretching across that broad chest stands out starkly from the colorful park life swirling around him. He is sculpted perfection, working a smolder so hot that it burns.
I’m so fucking toast, you could spread jam on me.
“See ya’ around, Maddie girl!” Jace calls to me as he gives me a high five, and I saunter over to Jack.
“Hello, soldier. This a new habit, stalking your bride?” I pointedly eye his stiff posture.
Jack”s mouth quirks slightly. “Hello there, Little Bird. Elena told me where to find you.”
He takes my hand, his unexpected intimate touch shooting fireworks up my spine.
“Let’s go home, fiancé.”