4. Chapter Four
Maddison
“ F or every minute you are late to work, you’ll be required to work ten minutes over.”
“I—uh, okay.”
Quickening my strides, I try to keep up with my new boss as she shows me around and continues to explain the insane rules the employees have to follow. This is the second time I’ve spoken to Irene Johnson—the only other time being my interview—but she seems a little controlling .
I stare at her rigid back as we stroll through the luxury home décor store. Her brown hair, streaked with silver, sits piled atop her head in a style that reminds me of a beehive. My lips twitch every time I look at it. I smooth my expression into a polite smile as her beady eyes evaluate me, her face so expressionless it makes me wonder how many times she’s had Botox injections.
“There is to be no food or drink on the sales floor,” she continues in her monotone voice.
I nod, having expected this one. Peering at the molten aluminum vase with red flowers next to me, I suppress a cringe at the ninety-dollar price tag. Then my gaze wanders over to the tufted beige-colored French sofa, and I wonder how anybody can relax on something like that.
“We don’t have customers here. We have clients,” she says while we continue to weave around overpriced décor. As we make our way further into the store, Irene breezes past a couple examining a black and white marble coffee table. The sickly-sweet smile she sends their way looks so fake I want to gag.
“Employees are not permitted visitors while they are on the clock,” she tells me. “Keep your baby daddy drama at home because I will not tolerate it.” My eyebrows furrow. Do I look like I have baby daddy drama?
Irene continues walking, each step bringing us closer to a cash register. A curvy, young woman with glossy, red hair hands a receipt to a customer as we approach.
“This is Hazel,” Irene gestures to the redhead after the customer leaves. When I nod towards the woman, she gives me an enthusiastic smile. “She’ll be your trainer. Hazel, this is Maddison. Show her how the registers work. But please, keep the personal talk to a minimum. We need to look professional in front of our clients, and they do not care what we had for dinner last night or what our weekend plans are.” Hazel nods politely while I watch the interaction in silence.
Irene begins to walk away but halts before turning back to me. Her narrowed eyes scrutinize me, making me feel like an exhibit in a museum. I swallow. Irene tilts her head, her lips pursing like she just tasted something sour.
“And please consider putting on some make-up going forward. I do not need employees who look like they just crawled out of bed and came to work.”
I’m left to stare at her back, my lips parted as I blink.
“Ouch,” Hazel comments dryly. “That was harsh, even for her.”
I feel my cheeks flame red as I fidget in place. I wish there was a mirror nearby. I thought I looked professional this morning. “Is she always like that?”
Hazel reaches under the register, grabbing something small and handing it to me. I study the nametag before reaching out to grab it and clip it on my shirt.
Hazel waves a flippant hand in the air. “Honey, you look fine. She just likes everybody to know that she’s the queen bee around here and we’re her lowly minions.” Her eyes dart over her shoulder and then back at me, lowering her voice to a whisper before continuing. “Besides, did you notice her hairstyle? What kind of 1960s crap is that?”
“I was just thinking the same thing!” I whisper-shout in return. Hazel snickers quietly then gestures at me to join her behind the register, giving me a playful jab with her elbow as I do. We share a conspiratorial grin.
“Now, I’ll show you the ropes and explain how things are supposed to be done around here.” She winks at me. “Then I’ll show you how I really do things when Irene the Wicked Witch isn’t around.”
I giggle, relaxing as she begins to point out different buttons on the register.
We’re going to get along just fine.
A pained, albeit dramatic, whimper is pulled from my throat as I stumble through Jax’s doorway hours later. My poor, aching feet are throbbing inside my high heels. The muscles in my shoulders are tight, and my temple is pounding. I wobble as I bend down to unbuckle the little straps around my ankles. My body begins to pitch forward as I lose my balance.
“Shit!” I hiss the expletive under my breath right as the sound of thudding footsteps reach my ears. Two thick arms loop around my waist, hauling me upright against a warm chest. The smell of a crisp, wintergreen masculine body wash tickles my senses. Jax sucks in a quick breath, his arms tightening imperceptibly around my body. And just why that makes my heart flutter, I’m not sure.
I peer up at him, noticing the dark stubble along his sharp jaw. It’s neatly trimmed, but I bet it would feel scratchy underneath my fingertips. Luke keeps his face completely smooth and—
Jax clears his throat, and my cheeks fill up with warmth as I duck my head. He releases his arms from around me before jerking his chin towards my high heels. Then he sinks down onto one knee, the other bent as he balances himself. My belly clenches at the sight of him kneeling on the floor beneath me.
“Allow me.”
I give him a silent nod, my mouth suddenly dry. The last time Jax touched me was the day Luke “introduced” me to him, which was roughly four years ago. Even then, it was just a brief handshake. So, of course, I’m a little on edge. It’s not like I’m attracted to him or anything—I have a boyfriend. It’s not that I want Jax’s hands on my body, but I appreciate his help nonetheless. He gently grabs one of my hands, pulling me out of my racing thoughts as he guides it onto his shoulder in a silent command to lean on him for support. Then the rough, warm skin of one hand circles my ankle and lifts it onto his bent knee. His big fingers struggle with the tiny clasps of the buckle for a moment, and I nervously chuckle. My heart thumps inside my chest.
I don’t know why. It’s not like I have a thing for Jax Parker.
Anymore.
This is just a normal reaction to being touched by an attractive man—he is attractive, objectively speaking, of course. Any woman would get flustered at his touch.
“I’m not usually this clumsy,” I mutter.
He manages to pull off one heel, his fingers brushing over my ankle as he sets it back down on the ground. My skin prickles with goosebumps, and I suppress a shiver. He looks up at me from under his lashes, and his soft expression makes me want to melt. I study the precise way his fingers move as he unclasps the next buckle.
“You look tired. Long day?”
Did his thumb just trace a circle over my ankle bone? I hold my breath for a moment, wondering if he’ll do it again. He sets my ankle down, pulls himself into a standing position, and wordlessly hands me my high heels.
Speak, Maddison! Don’t just stare at him like a fool.
“You were right about Irene. She’s like the cuntiest cunt I’ve ever met.”
“That’s not a word.” His lips quirk to the side, and he releases a breathless chuckle.
The sight of those lips threatening to tug into a full grin has my eyes dipping down to his mouth. For a brief moment, I wonder if kissing him really felt as good as my memories make it out to be. The thought, of course, is accompanied by guilt. Because I shouldn’t be thinking of kissing anybody but Luke. I quickly shake my head and look away. I must imagine the way his eyes linger on me. It’s been a long day, and I haven’t seen Luke much since we arrived in Cedarwood Valley. I miss my boyfriend, that’s all.
“Anything can be a word,” I protest, keeping my tone light and teasing. “Webster’s Dictionary does not have a monopoly on word creation.”
My entire body freezes then and a cold chill washes over me.
Why would I say something like that? Now we’re both thinking about that night.
“Mansel? Is that a play on damsel?”
“Don’t tell Webster’s Dictionary, but I just made it up on the spot.”
“Just because you say it doesn’t make it a real word.” He says it like it’s a joke, but his body is tense and his smile looks forced. Goddammit, will it ever not feel awkward between us? The conversation flowed so easily the night we met—before everything went to shit. Not for the first time, I feel a weird sense of longing to connect with Jax.
Not romantically. Just friendship.
But it’s been clear to me ever since Luke first introduced Jax to me as his brother that Jax just wants to avoid me. Does he think I tried to deceive him that night? I never lied about my age. I knew he was older than me, but I didn’t think it would be a problem. At the time, I wanted him anyway. Maybe I was naive to think he could overlook the age gap between us.
“Where’s Luke?” he asks.
“I’m not sure.” I shrug, averting my eyes so he doesn’t see the way Luke’s continued absence bothers me. It’s nothing new, but I foolishly thought coming to Cedarwood Valley would make him be more… present . We used to be incredibly close, but these days, I barely see him.
And another part of me—a part I don’t want to admit to—no longer misses his presence. Sometimes the distance is a relief, but we’ve been together for four years now, so isn’t it normal to want some time away from your significant other?
“He’s supposed to be here for dinner tonight,” I add, biting my bottom lip. “He promised me.”
“Maddie,” Jax begins, pausing to sigh as he cups the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into him lately? Is everything okay with him?”
I wouldn’t know because I’m probably a crappy girlfriend who doesn’t know how to be there for him. Because I think I’m falling out of love with him, and moving here was a last-ditch effort to save our relationship, but it’s not working and I don’t want to think about that yet.
“It’s—I think if he wanted you to know, he would tell you.” Immediately, I realize I’ve said the wrong thing. A flash of anger crosses his face, his eyes darkening as he scowls at me. He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Luke is my brother,” he says, his tone turning harsh. “Why wouldn’t he want to tell me what’s going on in his life?”
Something about his question rubs me the wrong way. I feel a surge of protectiveness towards Luke. Just because they are brothers doesn’t mean he owes Jax anything. Maybe if I hadn’t had such a colossally long day, I could push the irritation aside. But my response tumbles out of my mouth before I’ve even thought it through.
“Do you even realize that Luke is your brother, not your son?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His voice is quiet, low. Just a hint of warning threading through his tone. What I have to say is going to be a hard pill to swallow, but he needs to hear it.
“He doesn’t need you to tell him what to do all the time. He needs a brother.”
“I practically raised him, Maddie.” He sounds accusatory, his body vibrating with tension as he waves a hand through the air. “So, I should just do what now? Watch in silence as he wastes away all his potential? Ignore the fact that he doesn’t pull his own weight, parties every weekend, and acts like I don’t exist? That’s how you handle him these days, right?”
The blood drains from my face even as anger races through me. I clench my fingers so he doesn’t see them shaking. “You asked me a question and I answered it,” I say through gritted teeth. “Don’t get mad at me just because you don’t like it.”
Jax tilts his head to the side, studying me with an unreadable expression. “Why are you even still with him?” he wonders aloud, his voice dipping into a near whisper.
My head rears back. “What?”
“You heard me.” Jax shrugs, his hard stare stuck on my face. “Either answer the question, or don’t.” The silent implication is clear, and it makes me want to fume. If I don’t answer his intrusive question, I’m a coward in denial.
I cross my arms. “Why would you even ask me that?”
“Why did you give up a prestigious internship in the city, move to bumfuck nowhere for a man who can’t be bothered to hold down a job, where the only work you can find is a shitty sales position that will barely pay your bills?” He shakes his head like he’s disappointed, and for some reason, that feels like a stab to my gut. “Loyalty is a good thing, and you have it in spades. I’ll give you that. But if you continuously give your loyalty to someone who no longer deserves it, it will only hurt you in the long run.”
I stare at him, speechless as the silence stretches between us. He meets my gaze head on, giving me a scathing look like he’s daring me to disagree.
“You don’t know shit about our—”
The ringing of a cell phone interrupts me. Jax’s head snaps over to the counter, where his phone is lighting up, something dancing across the screen that I can’t see from here.
“That’s the fire department. I have to get that.”
I clench my jaw as he strides across the room and holds the phone to his ear. “Parker speaking.” He’s silent for a moment, his angry eyes still boring into me. I see the moment the fight leaves him, a reluctant resignation making his shoulders dip. He sighs. “Be right there.” He pockets his phone, barely glancing at me as he walks away. “They need me to help cover a shift tonight,” he says. He pauses at the bottom of the stairs like he wants to say something else, and for a moment, he looks regretful. Instead, he nods towards the kitchen. “I made some extra food earlier and left it out in case you were hungry when you got home.”
He walks up the stairs, coming down moments later with his gear as he hurries out the door without another word.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath. My stomach chooses that moment to growl, and I begrudgingly walk into the kitchen. I’ll gladly eat the food he left out, but that isn’t going to make me forgive him anytime soon.
He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and it’s none of his business.
I warily eye the food containers before pulling the plastic lids off. The smell makes my mouth water as I’m greeted by the sight of a grilled cheese sandwich, a bowl of tomato soup, and a pickle.
Damn it.
I love pickles.
That does make it difficult to stay mad at him.
I heat the food up before taking it with me to the kitchen table, where I eat by myself in silence. I stare at the clock as the sky turns dark outside and there’s still no sign of Luke. And I let Jax’s words run on repeat through my mind.
“But if you continuously give your loyalty to someone who no longer deserves it, it will only hurt you in the long run.”
Am I staying loyal to someone who doesn’t deserve it?