Chapter 5
Maddox
Ihave my own place, a cozy apartment in Queens, but I’m still a bit of a nomad.
I love the chaos of family life with Nathan and Mel, or Drake and Amelia, getting in some quality uncle time with the kids.
I really enjoy visiting Elijah and his wife Amber, and I get a kick from seeing Mason and King at their home, witnessing their domestic bliss and relishing how my brother, the eternal playboy, has finally been tamed.
And these days, I especially love being with my Dad.
That wasn’t always the case. My mom was ill for a big chunk of my childhood, and Dalton James was understandably not on his A-game after she died.
He’s a big man, physically and emotionally strong—a man who built an empire, a family, a whole world.
But when it came down to it, all of that meant nothing.
Because the one thing he couldn’t control was the thing that meant the most to him.
My mom, Verona. When she got sick, he couldn’t fix her, and that almost broke him.
That he’s still here today, still thriving, is testament to his strength of character.
Back then, though, I felt like he’d abandoned me.
I’d lost my mom and felt like he wasn’t there for me, and I resented him for that.
Later, when I was with Yasmin, the one person at the time who really saw me, he couldn’t stand her.
That made the whole thing even more exciting, and I was as addicted to that drama as I was to her.
I craved any attention I could squeeze from my dad, even negative, and I got plenty of it.
I was an asshole, but I have to forgive myself. If all the work I’ve done at my meetings has taught me anything, it’s not to let negative emotions fester. If you do that, they infect everything. I know this truth because I’ve lived it.
As for everything else that happened, I went from being a high school kid who loved football to being a criminal.
An addict. A person I’d prefer to forget but can’t.
He’s part of me. I wouldn’t be who I am today without my mistakes.
I’m ashamed of some of them, but I don’t regret others.
Even if my conscience sometimes tries to tell me that I should.
Still, it does sadden me to think of all the time I missed with this man. With Dalton James, head of our family. Businessman, father, sometimes enemy. Always at the center of my life, even when I was trying to lose myself in drugs, booze, and sex. Even when I was thousands of miles away.
Now, we have a good relationship. Not perfect, but good.
Right now, he’s sitting by my side in a little Turkish barber shop in Manhattan.
It’s been here forever. You can tell from the grooves on the floor from the chairs, the ancient ‘open/closed’ sign on the door.
The ingrained smells of hair products and shaving cream.
“This is not your normal fancy kind of joint, Dad,” I say as soon as the hot towel gets removed from my face.
“I know. I’ve been changing it up a little, son. Keeping things fresh. What do you think?”
We both look in the mirror in front of us.
Dalton has always been clean-shaven, smart, old-school.
He’s in his seventies now, but still a good-looking man with a full head of hair and alert gray eyes.
Me? I’ve always been on the more casual end of things.
I didn’t go into law like Nathan and Drake, or join the family business like Mason and Elijah.
I never needed the designer clothes or the fancy colognes.
That’s why I like this place. It’s full of character and history, and they actually listened when I said I didn’t want to lose too much of my beard. My hair’s trimmed, the beard shaped and tidy, and my skin feels fresh. What’s not to like?
“It’s good Dad. Nice to do something different together.”
He nods, satisfied, and pays before we leave. He adds a generous tip, as ever. Not a pushover, but always aware of his privilege, always generous to those who deserve it.
We’re due to meet Mason and Elijah for lunch and decided to make a morning of it.
“So, son, how are you?” he asks, as we head to the Jamestech offices.
He has a driver, everyone else in the family does, but he prefers to walk.
Says it keeps him in good shape. I walk a lot too, or cycle.
This city is congested enough without everybody having a car when they don’t really need one.
I noticed the last time I was in the office that there were posters up for a drive-share scheme, and a subsidy available for staff who use public transit.
Plus new recycling containers and a living wall in the staff café. Small touches, but ones I appreciate.
I wonder who’s behind them all? My brothers run a tech company, they’re not eco warriors. But it’s nice to see that someone there is thinking about the planet.
Maybe it’s Ellie? It could be her. I remember how passionate she was about the environment, and how animated she became when she talked about eradicating the use of plastic straws.
“Son?” my dad repeats, touching my arm. Shit. I lost focus there for a minute. Which seems to happen a lot when that woman’s name pops into my mind.
“Sorry Pop. Just, uh, thinking.”
“Apparently so. What’s her name?”
He smirks at me, and I shake my head to ward him off. It’s not like that, I tell myself. Ellie and I had one evening together. We didn’t even kiss. She’s back in my life, but only on the edges. I’ve barely seen her.
Except that’s not totally true, I admit to myself.
I’ve seen her a lot more than I probably needed to.
I’ve found excuses to call into the office, turning up with food and gifts for my brothers.
Always arranging to meet them there, hoping for a glimpse of her.
It’s stupid and it’s pointless and it’s borderline creepy. I am not that man. I refuse to be.
But I can’t help wanting just one more glimpse of her.
“Dad. Not everything is about sex.”
He rolls his eyes so well he could be a teenager. “Maddox, I know you’re celibate. Part of me even understands it. But when I ask what her name is, I don’t have to be talking about sex. I could be talking about love. That look on your face is one I’m very familiar with.”
Love, me? The man who can’t even manage to sleep with someone? “Not at this stage in my life, Dad, no. I’m busy. I’ve got other stuff going on.”
He raises an eyebrow, interest clear on his otherwise measured face. “Well, regarding the love part, you can never say never. And as for the rest, if you need my help you know where I am. I might be an old man but I know a thing or two. Now, where are we meeting your brothers again?”
We arranged to join them at a steak place nearby, which not only does spectacular Wagyu, but also offers a healthy salad menu for those of us who like our greens. Or like my dad, who has a heart condition and isn’t stupid enough to ignore what he puts in his mouth.
It was all planned. The table is booked. We’re right on time. But suddenly, I have a pressing need to use the bathroom.
“Can we call in at the office first, Dad? Can you let them know?” I ask.
He gives me an okay. He’s never one to turn down a visit to the headquarters of the business he built.
Dad’s technically retired now, but he likes to know what’s going on.
Much to Mason’s delight in particular. The two of them are close, but it presses my brother’s buttons when Dad calls in unannounced and tells him how to do his job.
I can’t resist a grin at the thought. That’s an added bonus.
Dad messages them to let them know, then tells me I need to get a phone.
It seems insane for a man of my age not to have one, I know, but so far I’ve resisted.
I don’t like the idea of being plugged into the Matrix 24/7.
Besides, it drives them all insane. They may think I’m a pacifist Zen master, but I’m not beyond enjoying their frustration.
Though if I did have a phone, I could call Ellie…
Fuck. I am such a creep. She’s made it perfectly clear that she’s not interested in seeing more of me.
Each time I’ve found an excuse to pop into the office and accidentally seen her, or more specifically, loitered around the place she works, she’s been polite but distant.
No sign of that easy familiarity we shared.
No hint of that carefree laughing girl with the gorgeous hair and the killer curves you could lose your mind over.
Well, she still has the curves and the hair, thankfully.
But she does not seem thrilled to see me.
I’m not sure what I’ve done to offend her.
I’m probably so far up my own ass for even thinking that.
I’m sure I’m not important enough to offend her.
I’m certain she just doesn’t give a flying fuck about me.
We take the elevator up to the top floor, and I leave Dad with Mason, who glares at me behind Dad’s back as he starts a lecture on something to do with currency exchanges. Suppressing a smirk, I leave them to it.
I pretend I’m heading to the men’s room, but what I’m really doing is wandering the corridors of power, hoping to get snubbed by Ellie.
Yep. That’s how pathetic I seem to have become.
What’s with me and this girl? I’m celibate, for fuck’s sake.
I don’t date. Is it just a challenge? Is the asshole part of me in charge right now—the one who was hyper-competitive on the football field, who refused to ever give in, to ever back down?
Before long I’m in the staff break room at the end of the hallway. Someone has added a small indoor herb garden, and I lean down to inhale the rosemary and mint. The scents of Morocco. There the rosemary would be called azir.
The fragrant smell calms me. Higher powers come in many forms.
I’m mid-sniff when she struts in, holding her water bottle as if to refill it. Her hair is pinned up in combs, but a stray tendril is dangling down the side of her face. Fuck. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. She freezes on the spot and anxiously stares at me.
“Hi,” I say. Yeah, real smooth, Mad. “How are you?”
“I’m good, thanks. You know, busy busy.”
She bustles past me as if to prove it, pressing the buttons on the water cooler. She fumbles her bottle, seeming flustered. Probably a lot of work on her plate, knowing my brothers. It would explain how stressed she seems to be.
“Are they working you too hard?” I ask, meaning for it to be lighthearted. “Because I can have a word if my brothers are being assholes.”
She whirls around, glaring at me, her bright blue eyes on fire. Jesus. What did I say?
“I don’t need you to defend me, Maddox. I love my job and I’m good at it,” she snaps. “And I’d rather you didn’t talk to your brothers about me at all. Period.”
I relent, trying not to look as taken aback as I feel.
Okay. She has a point. I didn’t mean anything by it, but when a guy steams in and implies a girl needs rescuing, that’s some borderline sexist bullshit right there.
I hold up my hands in surrender. “I get it. I’m sorry.
I know you’re good at your job. They tell me you are, all the time. ”
She softens slightly, her warrior stance settling to something less aggressive. Then she quirks an eyebrow. “They do?”
“They really do. Not that we discuss you a lot. Or that we say anything, uh, inappropriate.”
She nods abruptly. “Okay. Well. I have to go. Have a nice day.”
And just like that, she’s gone. I hate the fact that I watch her juicy round ass sashay out the door as she goes. What the fuck has gotten into me lately?