CHAPTER TEN
TESSA
Three hours later, I’m showered and full from my favorite Mexican takeout place. I’m lounging in my bed, binge-watching Brothers & Sisters. They’re all borderline terrible human beings that love their dysfunctional family. The constant conflict soothes me.
Halfway through an episode, Mercy texts me.
Mercy: You caused quite a stir today.
Me: Please tell me it isn’t all over the resort.
Mercy: We were out. But from what I know, only the penthouse is in chaos.
Me: You were supposed to go to the country house. You didn’t go because of this?
Mercy: It was a bunch of stuff. We’re going tomorrow afternoon and only staying for the night. I’ll be around after your family thing.
Me: Do not rush back for me. I’ll be okay.
Mercy: With the holiday coming up, we can’t be gone long anyway, so that’s a nonissue. But the Noire in question from today’s mess is still MIA. Know anything about that?
Just for fun, I send her one of my headlines.
Me: Girl dies too attached to the Noire family jewels.
Mercy: That reads like a riddle. I’ll be over tomorrow morning.
Me: That’s still all you’re getting from me.
Mercy: We’ll see about that. I’m here if you need me.
Me: I know.
Tossing my phone aside, I resume my activities.
Other than watching the show, I’m working on a sketch, and I’ve also been writing a few new entries on this month’s list. It’s a method of letting things go that I picked up a few years back.
I can’t attest to it always working, but somehow, if I know my grievance exists on this paper, I don’t feel as compelled to keep carrying it.
With things that don’t occur repeatedly, this practice is golden.
With consistent gripes, the relief is short-lived. But there nonetheless.
Today, most of what I’m penning has to do with all the stupid choices I made. Thankfully, that’s a rarity. I’m usually confident with my decisions. I’m not sure what got into me this afternoon.
My phone buzzes with another text, and initially, I ignore it, assuming it’s one of my sisters.
After the day I had, I can’t have anyone tell me how horrible I am with their passive-aggressive charm.
But when the reminder ding sounds, I pause the show to check that it isn’t Mercy.
Even if it is my family, I’ll answer quickly so they don’t text me all night.
What I find is surprising.
Maddox: Are you okay?
Me: I screwed up your call, have you hiding out from Axel and Ryker, pissed at Cash, not to mention how I humiliated you in an intimate position, and you want to know if I’m okay?
Maddox: First, of course I want to know if you’re okay. Need to know actually.
That has a fleet of butterflies swarming inside my stomach. What is he doing to me?
Maddox: Second, you just sold Cash out, which I know was an accident, and I already knew he was behind it, but you gotta watch those slipups, baby.
Shit. He’s right. I assumed since he knew I was there to mess with him and Cash was banging on the door, he connected it, but I should have waited to figure that out.
Maddox: And third, that’s not how I would have wanted that to go. I know it was a prank, but I’ve thought about that, about you, a lot. So, I’m not humiliated. I’m good. Other than worrying about you feeling bad or embarrassed.
I think I prefer him being an asshole. I know how to hold my own with that. This is … mystifying.
Me: It shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry. I was pissed and handled it wrong. Thank you for checking on me.
Maddox: Pissed or looking for an excuse to wrap those pouty lips around me, like my prediction this morning?
A laugh flows out of me. I can work with flirty.
Me: Keep dreaming. I made a deal with another Noire devil. That’s all.
Maddox: Fine. I’ll play along. Why were you pissed enough to resort to that?
Me: Let’s not get into that, unless you’re ready to tell me what’s going on.
Maddox: Not like this.
Me: But you will?
Maddox: Yes. Soon.
Springing up in bed, I stare at the text. That means so many things that I don’t want it to. Someone knows something. He’s been protecting me, but lying about it. He didn’t want to get to know me. I dismiss that last thought. It has no place here.
Me: Am I in danger? Is that why I have guards outside my door?
Maddox: You were privy to a confidential call, but I’m handling things. You need to trust me.
Me: Not likely.
Maddox: And that’s our problem.
Me: We, as in you and me, don’t have a problem, Drac.
Maddox: Keep telling yourself that. But I saw that hungry look in your eyes when you tasted me today. Once will never be enough.
I don’t respond because he’s right. I did want more, but that is a terrible idea that would only complicate my life further.
And it’s not at all what’s important here.
He’s got me so off-balance between the flirting and the sweetness and the admission that there is something to fill me in on, something that has him stationing guards around my apartment.
Unless the security precaution really is about me being in his office during that call.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my comforter as a follow-up text appears.
Maddox: Don’t be mad at me because you can’t stop thinking about it.
Another laugh leaks out of me. He’s hard to ignore.
Me: Is this why you checked on me? Because you’re obsessed with me and delusional enough to assume the feeling is mutual?
His response is immediate.
Maddox: Pretty much.
My breath lodges in my throat before I remind myself that he is a compulsive flirt. This means nothing. Still fun though.
Me: You need to get over that.
Maddox: I’d rather get under you.
Me: I walked right into that one.
Maddox: Of course you did. There’s nowhere you’d rather be.
Maddox: Than under me, in case you forgot the context.
A smile coasts up my cheeks, but I think it’s best to end this before we get into more complicated territory. We’ve already obliterated any semblance of a work relationship. At least I don’t really report to him.
Me: From three texts ago? I’m good. But it’s time for me to say good night. I’ll see you in a couple of days.
He doesn’t reply, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to, so I set my phone aside, relax against my fluffy pillows, and play Brothers & Sisters again. But ten minutes later, another text comes through.
Maddox: Tell me about your drawings.
Again, he’s got me all twisted up. Does he really want to know me, or is this another facet of my life he wants to control?
Me: What do you want to know? Actually, since I only draw when the shops are empty, we should start with what you already know.
Maddox: I don’t know anything from you. Watching isn’t the same as knowing. Tell me your why.
Me: Why do I draw?
Maddox: Yeah.
Me: No one’s ever asked me that before.
Maddox: You’ll have a lot of firsts with me.
My chest is so heavy. This can’t happen.
Maddox is the last person I would ever consider having a relationship with, and I’m certain he would say the same about me and relationships in general.
As far as I know, he’s never had anything other than one-night stands.
I doubt this is the kind of texting he does with most of his conquests though.
Maybe he does. It couldn’t hurt to just have a simple conversation though. Meaningless.
Me: Based on today, I can’t argue with that.
Maddox: That was just the beginning.
Me: The beginning of what? Awkward moments? Pranks gone wrong? Reasons to flee?
Me: Ooh! Things that never made it into the Kama Sutra?
Maddox: The last one is worth exploring, but wasn’t what I was referring to. I’m not sure what’s beginning yet. I told you I wanted us to get to know each other. You had an up-close-and-personal view of me today. Give me this. Why do you draw?
How does he consider a question about my art an exchange for me screwing up his meeting? And why does that feel huge? He has a way of transforming simple interactions into what seems like a privilege. I have no idea what compels me to do it, but I tell him the truth.
Me: I get anxious and frustrated with nothing in particular, just life.
But when I’m drawing, I’m so immersed in the creative process that the stress melts away.
And while it can feel vulnerable, the interpretation isn’t always obvious.
If I want to sketch emotions, the work stands on its own, and the perception is subjective. It brings me peace.
I hold my breath, waiting for his response. He doesn’t take long, but it stretches out like an eon because I laid myself bare with that explanation.
Maddox: A shield and an escape. Great reason. That wasn’t so hard, was it?
It is a shield and an escape. I’m impressed that he understands that.
Me: Consider us even.
Maddox: You think answering a simple question makes up for you ambushing me before a meeting and gluing your tongue to my cock like the stupid kid from A Christmas Story who licked the icy pole?
A cackle bursts out of me.
Me: That is a horrid visual. And for the record, I was being careful. You were the one who rammed into my mouth.
I didn’t mention that before because guilt was gnawing at me, but it’s true. I noticed his rings and was steering clear, and then, boom, he was halfway in, nearly at the back of my throat.
Maddox: If that’s what helps you sleep at night, fine. Regardless, one answer is not enough payment. Be ready tomorrow. You owe me either the honor of returning the orgasm or a fun fact each day.
Me: Nice try. I will never pick the orgasm.
Maddox: Someday, you will, but in the meantime, I’ll be learning a lot. Good night, Tess.
Night, Maddox.