Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Madeline
I managed to keep myself together for the entire ride home, but Jesse didn’t make it easy. Not with the way he casually pushed the sleeve of my hoodie up to my elbow and spent the drive tracing feather-light lines up and down my arm.
Jesse’s love language is physical touch, no question. He always has some part of his body touching mine. He’s constantly reaching for my hand, pulling me into him. And even though I’ve never been the kind of person who craves that kind of affection, with him, I can’t get enough.
Being with Jesse today has felt effortless and fun. But that comes to a grinding halt the second Jesse turns into my apartment complex. The carefree glow from our day together evaporates in an instant when I see Cara’s car parked in the visitor parking. Right away, I know something isn’t right.
A cold spike of dread spears straight through my chest. She didn’t tell me she was coming. She never just shows up.
I dig my phone out of my purse to see that I missed a message from my sister a half hour ago.
Cara: Code Red. Actual 911. Mom is on her way to your house. She says she wants to talk some sense into you. We’re on the highway now. We should be at your house within the hour. I’m texting you so you’re not blindsided. Brace yourself.
“What’s that look about?” Jesse asks, concern in his voice. “Mads…are you okay?”
I swallow hard, forcing my eyes from the message to him. “My mom’s here.”
His entire body stiffens. “Here? As in—right now?”
I nod once.
Jesse’s jaw clenches. A slow, dangerous breath leaves him. “Okay. I’m coming in with you.”
“No.” Panic snaps inside me like a rubber band. I grab his forearm before he can unbuckle his seatbelt. “Jesse, please. I don’t want you in the blast radius.”
“Mads.” His voice is gravel. “I’m not letting you walk into whatever this is alone.”
“My sister is here too. I appreciate you; I swear. I don’t know what this is about, but I need to deal with my mom on my own.”
He studies me a long moment, eyes searching mine, seeing more than I want him to. “I don’t care what she says or thinks about me. I do care how she treats you.”
“I’ll be okay,” I whisper. “I promise.”
“If she upsets you in any way, I need you to call me, and I’ll come right over.”
“Okay. I promise.”
He exhales, nodding reluctantly. “But I want you to promise me that you’ll call me when she leaves.”
“I promise.”
Reaching for my face across the console, he covers my mouth with his, kissing the frown right off my face.
I slip out of the car and walk to my apartment, a sense of dread growing with every step.
I push open my front door to find my mother standing in the entryway wearing a tailored camel coat and a look that could curdle milk.
Cara is standing next to her with Marigold strapped to her chest in a baby carrier, offering me a helpless, apologetic wince.
My mother steps into my tiny living room, looks around my apartment like she’s stepped into a crypt, and breathes out, “Oh, Madeline.”
Not hi. Not how are you? Just Oh, Madeline, like my apartment has personally offended her.
It’s only then that I see Lottie, who is now part of this mess. I try to convey to her with my eyes how sorry I am. She gives me a reassuring grin and steps forward politely. “Mrs. Ashcroft. It’s been a while. I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Lottie, I went to St Margaret’s with Madeline.”
Mom’s eyes flick to her, up and down. “Of course, I remember you. You were on the debate team.”
“No, not much of a debater. I played the violin in the orchestra, though.” Lottie gives a small smile because she is sunshine. Mom does not smile back.
“Ah, that’s right,” my mom answers as she continues into the apartment without waiting to be invited.
She goes to drop her purse on the couch, but thinks better of it, instead setting it on the table—but not before taking a tissue from her purse and wiping off the surface.
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.
I brace myself as mom surveys the living room, the bookshelf, the cozy throw blankets, the half-eaten nachos still on the coffee table. She sighs. “I suppose we might as well sit. We have a great deal to discuss.”
She perches on the edge of the sofa, smoothing her coat beneath her with sharp, precise movements and then looks at me expectantly.
I sigh, crossing the room to lower myself into an armchair. I grab the floral throw pillow and clutch it to my chest. Lottie hovers in the entryway long enough to catch my eye and I give her a tight, grateful smile.
“It was nice to see you, Mrs. Ashcroft. I’m going to…go do some work in my room,” she says. She smiles at Cara and gently passes her hand over Marigold’s shoulder before disappearing down the hallway to her bedroom. I wish I could do the same.
The second her door closes, the apartment shrinks, air thinning under the weight of my mother’s judgment. Cara lowers herself onto the sofa next to our mom while unbuckling the straps of Goldie’s carrier. My niece blinks sleepily, her cheeks flushed, a damp curl stuck to her forehead.
“Hi, my little bean,” Cara whispers, lifting her out and settling the baby on her knee. “There we go. Stretch those toes.” She wiggles Goldie’s foot, earning a drowsy squeak. I can’t help but smile as I watch my niece rub the back of her tiny hand against her eyes, slowly waking up.
My mom doesn’t even look at her. Instead, she folds her hands together; a gesture so practiced it could be a political photo-op. “Well,” she begins, voice crisp enough to slice through drywall. “We drove all this way, so let’s not waste time.”
My stomach pulls tight. Here we go.
“Really, Madeline,” she says, eyeing my sweatshirt like she’s just now noticed it. “Is that what you wear out of the house? Will you never outgrow dressing like a teenager?”
Cara stiffens beside her, one hand instinctively rubbing Goldie’s back. Even the baby seems to feel the tension.
I force my expression to stay neutral, even though my cheeks burn. I know better than to argue with my mom—it never ends well. Besides, I like the way I look. I’m not actually offended, but my mom’s judgement still lands like a sharp smack.
Cara cuts in, trying to lighten the mood in the room. “Madeline looks cute, Mom. It’s the style.”
Our mother’s lips form a straight line. My sister will be hearing about that comment later, but scolding Cara is not the reason for this visit. My mom returns her attention to me.
“Tell me, Madeline. You didn’t feel the need to tell me that you moved two hours away?”
I shrug. “I called you a couple of days before I moved in, but you didn’t answer. I left you a voice message. I was busy packing up my things and I figured you’d return my call when you could.”
I didn’t have the energy to soften my words, but my mother isn’t built for subtlety anyways. Directness is the only thing that works with her.
“That was almost a month ago. And you’re living here…in this…”
“Apartment? Yes. With Lottie,” I say firmly. “You never call, Mom. If you did, you’d know how I am and where I’m living. You haven’t told me what you’re doing here. You didn’t tell me you were coming to town.”
“We need to talk, so I made the horrible drive to get here. I asked Cara to come along with me.” Her brows draw together in a harsh line. “Are you still with that Winters boy?”
I nod. “I am.” I realize suddenly that this time it’s actually true. He’s mine. My person. A tiny, stunned part of me can’t believe that Jesse Winters is my boyfriend.
She rolls her eyes. “You realize that Elliot is interested in you? He has an incredibly bright future, Madeline. He’s going to be a very powerful person one day. He has his sights on becoming the prime minister. You are seriously not even going to consider him?”
I shake my head. “I’m not interested in Elliot. I thought I made that clear. Jesse makes me happy. I don’t have anything more to say about it.”
“Well, I do,” my mom says. “Your father had one of his people look into the Winters brothers and he’s learned something you may find interesting.”
My stomach plummets.
“The man you’ve been…spending time with. His younger brother, Wes. Let’s just say there’s a story he’d prefer not see make the headlines.”
Cara’s head snaps up. “Mom—”
Mom lifts a single manicured finger. Cara shuts her mouth, jaw tightening. I feel the room tilt. If it were anyone else, I would have just shut down this conversation and got up and left. Unfortunately, I know how my parents are when they want something. They’ll stop at nothing.
“I’m not going to share the details of the scandal.” She crosses one leg over the other. “But I will say this: the Winters family is not as pristine as they appear.”
My throat goes dry.
“But that’s not why I’m here,” she continues.
“I have a very simple favor to ask. Elliot’s family is hosting an event at the end of the month.
Donors, media, several families we’ve aligned with for years.
” She gives me a pointed smile. “It would mean a great deal if you accompanied him. Show up. Smile for cameras.”
“And if I say no?”
My mother exhales a slow, controlled breath.
“Well,” she says lightly. “If you can’t find a way to help your father, then perhaps he won’t be able to help your…
friend. It would be very unfortunate for his family and their little business if they were to find themselves in the middle of a scandal. I’m sure none of them want that.”
Cara’s eyes widen. “Mom, you can’t be serious—”
“I’m asking Madeline for a favor, one that isn’t difficult. If your father means anything to her, she’ll know what this would mean to him. I’m offering her a choice.”
My stomach drops like I missed a step on a staircase, and my hands won’t stop trembling. Thirty minutes ago, I was with Jesse, having one of the best days I’ve had in a very long time. Now I’m sitting in the middle of my own living room, feeling like I’m trapped in a box with very little oxygen.
“You don’t even know Wes. Or Jesse. You would ruin their family just to help dad’s career?” I ask in disbelief. Even for my mother, that sounds like a stretch.
She looks me straight in the eye. “I would do anything for your father.”
I cannot tolerate her being here for one second longer. But before I can tell her to leave, she beats me to it. She stands and picks up her purse, takes one last disapproving glance around my apartment, and then turns to look at me. “This really doesn’t need to be difficult, Madeline.”
With that, she sweeps out of my apartment without a backwards glance. “I’m so sorry,” Cara whispers, pulling me into a quick hug, Marigold pressed between us. “I’ll call you.” She slips out the front door, leaving me alone, and still in shock.
“Is it safe to come out?” Lottie asks, peeking her head around the corner before joining me. “Your mom is still intense. Like, politely terrifying. How did it go?”
“Not well. But it never does with her.” I sink into the couch, trying to come to terms with what just happened.
Lottie chuffs. “I don’t know how you two are even related.”
“I don’t know either,” I say. “If I ever act like her, you have permission to throw me from a bridge.”
Lottie nods solemnly. “Glad we’re on the same page. Okay.” She claps her hands, trying for lightness. “Why don’t we order something for dinner. Pad Thai? Sushi? Burgers? We’ll eat takeout and watch a scary movie.”
I try to smile, but it collapses halfway out. “I don’t know that I’m up for that right now. I’m sorry.”
Her face softens. “Mad…”
The first tear hits my cheek before I can respond. She steps closer, eyes searching mine, then lets out a dramatic sigh. “Okay. Nope. What happened? Tell me.”
I shake my head, but Lottie crosses the room, flopping down on the couch next to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.
It doesn’t take long to recap everything that has happened in the last two weeks, all the way to my mother’s threat about Wes. When I’m done, Lottie’s jaw is on the floor, hanging open in stunned disbelief.
“Blackmail?” Her finger lifts and she makes a dramatic circle in the air, pointing at my whole body. “Start explaining immediately. I need to know what she thinks she has on the man.”
“I have no idea, and she didn’t give me any clues.”
“And you and Jesse are…official?”
“Don’t make it weird,” I warn her. “But yes. We’re together. It’s new. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”
Her eyes go huge. “I knew it! I knew something was going on. You’ve been smiling at your phone like a feral Disney princess for weeks.”
Despite everything, I snort. “Shut up.”
She squeezes my hand. “Okay, so what are you going to do about Elliot and the gala?”
I groan. “I don’t know what to do. This is such a mess.
My mom—” The words stick. My throat tightens.
“If I don’t go with Elliot, Wes gets dragged through the mud.
And if I do, how will Jesse feel? He’s not going to be happy.
He’s going to wonder what the hell he’s gotten himself into by dating me.
And he’s going to wonder how any parent could manipulate their own daughter the way my parents do. ”
“Jesus.” Lottie drags a hand down her face. “Your parents need hobbies. Like pickleball or prison.”
I choke out a miserable sound, and she immediately pulls me against her shoulder. “Hey. You’re not dealing with this alone, okay?”
I nod, swallowing around the ache in my chest. “Thank you.”
Lottie strokes her hand over my hair. “Okay, girl. Now let’s discuss when I get to meet your new hot man.”