11. Maddie
MADDIE
N early two months of this arrangement have passed and everything seems just perfect.
It’s like a dream I didn’t dare to dream before.
Without the cost of rent, my job is more than enough to keep me afloat and contribute back to my savings.
I don’t have a worry in the world, other than how so much of this new world of mine is reliant on Graham. Just like it used to be with my ex.
I swallow down that thought as often as it comes up and focus on the positives.
Meeting Graham’s friends has definitely either taken us to the next level or given me mixed signals. That combined with little trips on private jets for weekend vacations in the sun…life is very much too good to be true.
I’ve been added to a group chat with Julie, Bee, and Whitney, and they’re just as lovely, welcoming, and funny as they were at the dinner.
They’re very interested in Graham and me, but I keep it light and vague.
Although for the most part, I don’t have to hide anything.
Like when they ask how long we’ve been together or how we met.
Eight weeks and in an elevator in his building.
Oh how they thought that was scandalous… if only they really knew.
Between time with Suzette after work, an after-hours meeting to schedule a charity function, and Graham leaving town twice for meetings, before I know it, the week has gone by and I haven’t seen him.
He’s busy and I’m busy, and even though the ache I feel when I think about being with him doesn’t go away, I get lost in my life for the first time in a long time.
Lost in a good way, this time. Not the way I was lost with Kevin, when the days started to blur together and the only thing that broke it up was getting engaged.
Which obviously ended worse than it began.
It feels like a century ago that I was worried about the rent and made that frantic call to Graham. It almost feels like a new life, even though I’m living in the same apartment.
I want it to stay like this, all new and exciting, for as long as possible.
I want things to stay okay. I think, this time, it might stick.
Since I haven’t heard from Kenzie, my needy cousin, in about a week and a half, my aunt tells me she’s doing much better. Some small part of me thinks that it might not be a good thing that my cousin hasn’t messaged, but I can’t bring myself to worry about it when I’m finally in a decent place.
Worrying never helps anyone, anyway. One of the best parts of all this is that my optimism doesn’t feel so hard, now that I have a job and Graham and a group chat with another group of women who I can really see myself being friends with.
Friday after work, I come home from the office at the end of the day and find a paper taped to the door of my apartment.
My heart jumps into my throat and my blood goes cold. In my experience, sheets of paper taped to your apartment door never mean anything good, but as soon as I swallow down my knee-jerk reaction, I realize it’s too small to be an official notice. The paper is too nice, too.
Actually, it’s a note from Graham on a page torn from the pad on his desk. It’s thick, heavy paper with his monogram on the top.
I want to see you. Come up when you get this. I’ve missed you.
That’s all it says.
I peel the paper off the door, dislodging the tape he used to keep it there, and run my fingertips over the words. This feels different. He could’ve just texted me, or called, and told me he wanted to see me. Leaving a note in his handwriting, though...
It means he wrote the note and came up here, thinking of me. It means he pressed the tape to the top of the paper and looked it over before he left. He stood here in the hall, wondering when I’d be home to see it.
It means he knew that anyone could walk by and see this.
No, he didn’t sign his name, but they’d see that someone with bold, clean handwriting wanted someone else enough to tape a note to their door.
That probably shouldn’t make me as giddy as it does. It probably doesn’t mean as much as I think it does. But still, I remind myself, I’m allowed to be a hopeless romantic, even in a not-so-romantic arrangement like this, so long as I protect my heart.
I rush inside, tuck the note on my bedside table, and change out of my work clothes.
I think Graham likes my work clothes—his eyes go dark every time he sees me coming through the lobby or meets me for drinks after—but it’s Friday, and I’ve been in those outfits all week.
I choose a flowy dress instead and a beautiful pair of emerald earrings Graham bought me while we were on vacation and take the elevator up to the penthouse.
It’s my first time wearing them, they stay in a trinket tray on my bedside safe and sound so I don’t lose them.
But today feels like a special day and for that, I choose the beautiful earrings that feel just as special.
The elevator lets me directly into the wide, spacious entryway, which looks over his kitchen and the big living room with the stunning view of the city.
I’ve been here several times, and I know it shouldn’t be anything special considering I live in the building, but it is.
Everything about this space is just what I would have imagined for a man like Graham.
It’s clean and beautiful and classy, and the best part of it is him.
Or it would be if I could see him.
I pause, closing the door quietly behind me, and listen. He said he wanted to see me and to come up, so I know he’s in here.
After a second, I hear his voice floating in from one of the other rooms. I kick off my heels, leaving them at the entryway, and follow the low rumble past the spacious kitchen with Graham’s shiny, expensive espresso machine that I know how to use now; past the sitting room with the very comfortable sofa that costs more than furniture should and the TV that rises out of a hidden compartment so it doesn’t block the view; and past the original art framed on the wall that Graham got at an auction after he bought his first New York property.
These things mean more than they did the first time I was here. He’s told me enough to know that he doesn’t choose things without a reason, another fact about him that gives me butterflies.
He thinks about me even more carefully.
Graham doesn’t have to say that for me to know it. He’s always considerate when we go out, despite the dirty deal he offered me to pay the rent.
Could that have been fake, somehow? Not the deal itself—that definitely wasn’t fake given I’m the one who technically offered it.
The more Graham and I spend time with each other, the less I think he’s the kind of guy who’d ever do it again.
He’s said in passing it was reckless for us and I agree.
And Graham isn’t a reckless kind of man.
I swallow down nervousness. I don’t know if these feelings will ever go away. I’m not concerned that he’ll end things between us when I don’t see it coming. I’m more nervous about impressing him and living up to his expectations. I want him to enjoy this in the same way I do.
I really want to impress him, because...
I don’t want this to end.
It doesn’t escape me that when this ends, he’ll be the one doing it.
And I don’t think I’ll see it coming. I take a deep breath and promise myself not to think about any of this ending.
Setting a timeline hasn’t been what this is about.
That’s why we have a safe word, and why he seemed so relieved to see me in his office for the second rent payment.
That memory goes a long way to soothe my nerves every time they creep up.
We can do this for as long as we want.
Graham is in a smaller, cozier den at one side of the penthouse. He sits on what I now know is his favorite working chair, an elbow propped on the arm, the phone to his ear. It’s a worn brown leather that fits the masculine natural tones of the room.
“Go into more detail about that,” he says. “I’m not sure I know enough to give you an answer you’ll be satisfied with.”
His tone is confident and commanding on the phone. The cadence of his voice sends a shiver down my spine. Nobody I’ve met before makes me feel like they could take charge of just about anything in the world and make it better than it was before.
Nobody would look as hot as Graham doing it, either. The natural light from the large, paned windows accentuates his perfect features and the way his clothes fit his body like they were made for him.
Which they were.
I pad quietly in through the door and he turns his head. His blue eyes brighten when he sees me, then immediately get darker as his pupils expand.
Then it’s just like the first time I saw him in the elevator.
My heart goes a little crazy over how attractive he is.
Something electric about the air around him makes my chest get hot, and it feels like I’ve gotten an intense crush on this man in the space of seconds.
It’s been longer than that, obviously, but stepping into any room he’s in makes it all feel new again.
I give him a little wave and mouth I can go if you’re busy.
He shakes his head and readjusts in his seat, spreading his legs wider all the while staring at me. “That’s something I considered, but only in the context of—yes, that’s right.”
I can almost feel him undressing me. Imagine his hands pulling my dress over my head. Feel his fingertips drag when he does it. This man hasn’t even touched me and yet my body can already feel what he’ll do to me. That’s the power he has over me and I freaking love it.
I take two steps toward him, and Graham holds up a hand. I freeze in place, my face hot. He mouths the command, strip .