Chapter 15
Ellie
Ihear him knock at the door and open it while I’m still on my call. I’m wearing short-shorts and a halter top because the air conditioning in this building is not coping with the sudden heatwave.
He smiles at my little finger wave, his eyes briefly roaming my body before he looks away and goes to the kitchen.
I glance down, suddenly seeing myself through his eyes.
My ass is undoubtedly spilling out of the frayed denim, and my tummy is escaping the pink fabric of my top.
Crap, I’m not even wearing a bra. Sometimes I feel so comfortable with Maddox that I forget to do the most basic things, like look in a mirror.
I bite down on the self-consciousness, and concentrate on what my almost-mom, Keres, is saying.
My brother Jayden won first prize at the school science fair, my sister Iris has declared she wants to be an astronaut when she grows up, and Melody has a boyfriend.
Which, given that she’s only twelve, is slightly alarming.
“Don’t worry,” she tells me. “We’re monitoring the situation. ”
I laugh out loud. I bet they are, and the more I think about it, the more I pity the boy involved. “I’ve got to go, Kee. My friend is here.”
Silence on the other end, apart from the sound of Zeus the Belgian Malinois barking in the background, ably assisted by Milo, the more sedate older Lab.
“Okay, sweetheart. Have fun. And whenever you want to bring friends home you know that’s all right with us, I hope?
We’ll be on our best behavior, I promise. ”
“I know. And I will come home soon. I’ve just been so busy with work. I love you all.”
She tells me they all love me too, and I laugh as I hang up, imagining how Maddox would fit in with my adorable but also certifiably crazy-ass family. I love them to bits, but they are not what you’d call traditional.
I grab a hoodie from the back of the door and throw it on.
It covers my boobs and my gigantic ass. I fan myself with my hands as I go into the tiny kitchen.
Which feels a whole lot smaller now that Maddox is in it.
Like seeing a Grizzly bear trapped in a powder room.
He has bags with him, unpacking food onto the counter.
He’s come ‘round to finalize his business loan applications and seems to have a whole deli with him. Not that I’m complaining.
“Sorry about that. I was just talking to the fam.”
He nods, passing me a chilled bottle of his homemade lemonade. He knows I can’t get enough of its zesty deliciousness. “All good?”
“All good.”
We sit at the table and chat as we snack.
He’s brought so many of my favorites—stuffed Greek olives, fluffy little empanadas, fresh strawberries.
Normally, I’d be enjoying the feast, but right now, I’m just concentrating on not melting.
I waft my hands in front of my face and hold the lemonade against my cheeks, but it doesn’t help.
“Ellie,” he says, staring at me. “Why are you wearing that big thick hoodie? And why is it so hot in here anyway?”
I shrug. “Um, is it?” I’m embarrassed by the fact that I’m wearing the hoodie to cover up in front of him. He’ll hate that.
He frowns at me. “Yeah. It is. How long has your AC been on the fritz?”
“Well, I guess I noticed it when I got home from work. I just thought maybe it was taking a while to kick in.”
“I don’t think so. And I think maybe you’re actually going to pass out if you get any hotter.” He sounds genuinely concerned, and now I feel like a child.
It’s late June, and the entire city of New York is frying in its own juices.
It was fine in the office, because as you’d expect, Jamestech HQ is superbly well run and has the best AC known to the modern universe.
But here, in my humble abode? Not so much.
I’m sweating in places I didn’t even know I had, especially with this heavy cotton top I’m insisting on wearing.
What the hell is wrong with me? Maddox has seen me before.
He’s seen me in my skin-tight gym clothes, in short shorts and that cute little flappy skirt that barely covers my ass.
He’s even seen me in my slip one morning when he turned up early with breakfast. He knows what my body looks like, and he’s not going to judge me for the fact that it wobbles. I’m being ridiculous.
I pull the hoodie off in one swoop, and when my head emerges, he looks like he might be about to swear. He jumps up, says he’s got to make a call, and leaves the room.
Just what the hell was that about?
I’m a little cooler though at least, and I nibble on the strawberries while I wait. I’ve just dipped one into dark chocolate and have it halfway into my mouth when he comes back in. He stares at me, mouth agape. What the hell has gotten into him today. “You okay? Did I do something wrong?”
He shakes his head quickly. “Nope. Look, we can’t stay here and work like this. We can go to a bar, or my place if you like. Or just reschedule.”
He sounds harassed, and I hate that. I know how important this final stage of his plan is.
He’s come up with his proposals and done his initial presentations—with some assistance from yours truly—and now he has the last few hoops to jump through.
He’s been told he impressed the small business team at the bank, and now he has one final round of paperwork before the committee deliberates.
The guy he’s been dealing with gave him some extra advice, and this evening our job is to blend it all together.
It’s not rocket science, but we will need to concentrate.
Ideally, we’d eat, spread the paperwork out on the table, then spend the night making his proposal pop.
Now, thanks to my crappy apartment, I’ve put a dent in our plan.
“I’m happy to come to your place,” I tell him quickly. I don’t want to let him down. “I know you’ve got that party tomorrow night anyway, so why don’t we just press on? Just give me a few minutes to make myself presentable.”
His eyes rake over me, and I expect him to say something Maddox-like. You look good just the way you are.
Instead, he just nods abruptly. “That might be a good idea.”
So, not only did something crawl up his ass today, it actually curled up there and died.
I change quickly, gather my laptop and charger, and we head out. Downstairs, we bump into Mr. Oliver, the building manager. “Ellie,” he says, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Is your AC out?”
“Yeah, it is,” Maddox answers before I can. “And it’s a health hazard in this heat. So how about you get it fixed.”
This is so unlike my friend that I am momentarily taken aback. Crawled up his ass, curled up and died, came back to life as a zombie, and did it all over again, I guess.
“Maddox,” I say, not raising my voice but staying firm. “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. Mr. Oliver is already all over it, I’m sure.”
The middle-aged man sags a little, looking from Maddox to me with a worried expression. “I’m trying, honey, but it’s late, and I might not have the parts I need to get it fixed tonight. I’ll get on to the owner, though, and see about some fans?”
I do not object in the slightest to Mr. Oliver calling me honey. He’s a sweet man with an adoring wife and two teenage daughters, so I shoot Maddox a glance to let him know that he best not have a problem with it either.
To my relief he says nothing. Poor Mr. Oliver looks stressed enough without Maddox making it worse. “I’m off out for a while now, Mister O, but I know you’ll do your best. Let me know how you get on, okay?”
He nods, and Maddox and I walk out into a searing hot evening. “I’m sorry,” he says, before I can even open my mouth. “That was uncalled for.”
“It’s not me you need to apologize to, big guy.”
“It is. For over-stepping. For trying to rescue you, as though you’re not capable of sorting out your own shit. But yeah, okay, I was rude. Shall I go back in and say sorry to him as well? Or should I, I don’t know, get him a bottle of Scotch or something?”
He sounds so genuinely remorseful that I can’t help but forgive him. Maddox really is a gentleman, and that was very out of character for him. I take his face between my hands and look into his eyes.
Oh boy, that might have been a mistake. How can even looking at this man have this kind of effect on me? There’s a pulsing throb between my legs that wasn’t there thirty seconds ago.
“Are you alright?” I manage to croak out. “You don’t seem quite yourself today.”
He pulls away from me, shoves his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Maybe I’m a little stressed.”
“About the application?”
He pauses before replying. “Yeah. About that.”
Thought so. He might be all Zen master on the surface, but he’s only human. “Well don’t be. Between us, we’ll get it done. You know we’re a great team.”
He hails a cab, which also isn’t like him. Maddox normally walks, runs, or cycles pretty much everywhere he needs to be. Part environmental awareness, part just him.
“It’s too hot to walk,” he explains, opening the door for me to climb in. “And again, I’m sorry. I know we make a good team, Ellie. You’ve been such a help with all this, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“That’s okay. You don’t need to thank me. I’m your friend. Did you manage to get to a meeting this week?”
He nods and tells me about the one he chose.
He has spots across the city that he goes to, and we’ve always discussed that part of his life openly.
After the whole miscommunication-in-Marrakech deal, we’ve tried to be as open with each other about everything.
Well, he has. I guess I haven’t been entirely honest with him.
I haven’t told him about this whole pesky throbbing-between-the-thighs thing for a start.