4. Maddison
Maddison
I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the door long after Hunter leaves. What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I feel safer with this man than I do with my own family, and certainly with my fiancé? Ex-fiancé, I correct.
Buy and destroy. That’s what Barrett had said. Which could only mean he expected his new wife and brother-in-law to hand him full control of the paper mill. What had Hugo been thinking when he arranged the match? And what would my brother do next?
Knowing Hugo’s penchant for taking a problem and turning it into a disaster, it’s going to be infinitely worse than the devious dealings Hunter had averted. That thought is almost enough to break my resolve not to cry. If it’s left to Hugo, we don’t stand a chance of saving the mill.
I want to flop back onto the mattress, but if I do that, I’ll only replay Hunter pinning me there.
The man can claim his intentions were honorable, but I’d glimpsed the effect I had on him when he sat astride me and told me I was a good girl.
Parts of my body had responded just as inappropriately, but I can’t let lust cloud my judgement.
Or can I? Of all the men who want to ruin me, he’s the one I’d consider letting.
I’m in deep trouble.
Kicking off my shoes, I shuffle over to the dresser and examine the business card he left. The man who simultaneously saved me and plunged me into crisis has a last name. Hunter Griffin of Griffin Corps is in charge of ‘Finance and Acquisitions’. Am I an acquisition now?
Other than a cell number and an email address, there’s no other information.
I wrack my brain, wondering if I’ve ever heard of Griffin Corps, but I come up blank.
I have no idea what they do, and the logo gives nothing away.
It’s some mythological creature. Ah, of course.
A griffin. I can’t recall if they’re meant to be good or evil.
I’ll have to google it when I get my phone back.
I wish I could call someone, but all the numbers I know from memory are people linked to Hugo, and I’m not ready to face my brother yet.
I have a night to myself and I might as well enjoy it.
I pick up the hotel phone and dial room service.
Now that I have the option of taking off my wedding dress, I can eat and drink what I want.
And since Hunter is footing the bill, and pissing him off is my only source of entertainment right now, I order more food than I could possibly eat.
I also add four bottles of the hotel’s most expensive champagne to my order, one of which I ask to be passed on to Melissa as a tip.
I want to take off my dress, but I have to wait for room service to arrive because I don’t have anything to change into.
Pacing the room, I catch my reflection in the full-length mirror.
My wedding dress is truly awful. And what was I thinking with all these curls?
I’d wanted some volume to compete with the explosion of silk on my bottom half, but the person looking back at me isn’t the woman I thought I was.
I’m not sure who Maddie Corbyn is anymore. I don’t think I’ve ever known.
As I rip off my tiara, I pull strands of hair from my scalp along with it.
I continue to wince in pain as I take out the bobby pins until my up-do collapses.
I rake my fingers through my hair to tame it, or at least I try.
The stylist has used so much hairspray that my fingers snag and I pull out more strands of hair.
With a frustrated cry, I give up. I don’t look in the mirror again.
There’s a knock at the door, and I open it to find two men staring at me. One has a trolley and is clearly waiting staff, and the other is a now familiar face.
“You were at my wedding,” I say to him as the waiter brings my food into the room.
The tall man in the dark suit simply nods. He looks to be about my age, mid-twenties at most, and I’m only slightly relieved that his green eyes don’t have the intensity of Hunter’s, or the guy who planted a tracker on me.
“I’m Maddie,” I tell him, then raise an eyebrow in expectation.
He adjusts his tie and clears his throat. “Reid.”
“My, you’re talkative. Are you here to stand guard?”
When he simply nods, I turn to the waiter who’s pushed the trolley into the center of the room.
“Would you like me to open the champagne, madam?” he asks, lifting the bottle from the cooler.
“Ooh, yes, please,” I say and a moment later, the cork pops. Turning to Reid, I ask, “Would you like a glass?”
From the way he pulls a face, I can tell he means yes when he says, “No, thanks.”
“We’ll have two glasses,” I tell the waiter. To Reid, I add. “For some reason, I missed out on all the wedding toasts today. The least you can do is toast my good health. Oh, and would you mind tipping our friend? I don’t have any cash.”
Reid slips a couple of bills to the waiter as he leaves, and steps into the room to take the glass of champagne I offer. “To your good health and future happiness,” he says with a wry smile.
I tip my glass to him. “Yeah, well, at least I have my health,” I reply before taking a gulp of champagne to swallow my bitterness.
Retrieving the bottle from the cooler, my stomach rumbles at the sight of all the food the waiter uncovered.
There’s a juicy steak, a towering burger, a mountain of crispy French fries, and a selection of desserts that will be my undoing. “Are you hungry, Reid?”
“I shouldn’t,” he says, not resisting when I refill his champagne glass.
I step to one side so he can see the trolley. “What would you like?”
His gaze stays on me and the bastard smirks when I blush. I swear I’ve never been hit on so many times in one day.
I’m eyeing Reid carefully as he grabs the burger and a handful of fries. It’s not just the custom-made suit that reminds me of Hunter. “Are you another relative?”
“Of Hunter’s?” he asks, and I nod. “I’m his… brother.”
My eyes narrow. “Why the hesitation?”
He swallows a mouthful of burger. “Technically, I’m his half-brother.”
“Which half?” I ask, trailing my gaze down his body. He’s not the only one who can murder a double entendre.
Reid almost chokes. He takes a swig of champagne, and when he drains the glass, I fill it up again. “Same father,” he explains when he can.
“And you have two brothers?”
“Three. All older,” Reid explains. “There’s Mace.
He’s the one you bumped into outside the chapel,” Reid explains, his smile widening into a grin.
If he knows I elbowed his brother, he seems quite pleased about it.
“He was the youngest until I came along. And obviously there’s Hunter, he’s the middle son. And finally, there’s Ash.”
“And where’s Ash?”
“In Scotland on business.”
Reid halts the conversation by filling his mouth with more food. The break in my interrogation allows him to shuffle back towards the door. He remains on this side of the threshold as he finishes his burger and drains his champagne.
When he’s done, he hands me his plate and glass before stepping out. “Thanks for the food.”
“Don’t thank me, it’s on your brother’s tab.”
Reid rubs the back of his neck as if he can feel unseen eyes boring into him. He’s not so relaxed now that he’s in the corridor. “Anyway. I’ll let you go.”
“I take it you don’t want to be seen consorting with me,” I say, tipping my head upwards as if I have any clue where the security cameras might be. When Reid shrugs, I ask, “And who exactly is watching us, Reid? One of your brothers?”
“Maybe.”
“How can they access the cameras? Do you own the hotel?”
Reid straightens his jacket. “I’m sure Hunter can fill in all the gaps,” he replies, looking flushed and increasingly uncomfortable.
I stalk out into the hallway, making him step back until he’s up against the opposite wall. I hand him the half-empty champagne bottle. “You might as well finish it off. I have plenty to spare. But thanks for all the info,” I say loudly.
Reid sighs deeply, confirming the camera must have audio. If I’m meant to feel sorry for landing him in trouble, I don’t. Why should I be the only one to suffer today?
When I’m sealed back in my room, I make a half-hearted attempt to untie the cord keeping my bodice in place before I give in to my gnawing hunger.
I eat the steak before it gets cold and pick at the remaining French fries while I uncork the second bottle of champagne.
The flutes provided are too small so I take a tumbler from the bathroom and fill it.
It goes down too well, but by the time I’m ready for dessert and the final bottle of champagne, my stomach is cramping beneath the tight bodice.
Standing with my back to the mirror, I glance over my shoulder and try to figure out how to loosen the cord that I thought was tied in a simple bow. The champagne must have done something to my vision because I can’t make sense of the two ends, and it doesn’t help that I keep swaying.
Frustration quickly takes over and I pull the cord this way and that until I’m left in no doubt that I’ve managed to tie myself into impossible knots.
My shoulders ache with the effort of twisting, and my patience is non-existent.
Grabbing the steak knife, I give up being delicate and try to cut my ties. And all the while, the room spins.
“Shit!” I cry out when I feel a sharp stab of pain. I squint at the mirror and see a crimson stain blooming on my white dress. “Fine! I won’t eat dessert then!”
And that’s when another problem presents itself.
I need to pee, and the more aware of it I become, the more urgent is my need.
I press my thighs together as I hurry to the bathroom, but no matter how much I wrestle with my stupid dress, I can’t find my legs, let alone reach my panties or clear enough of the fabric to be able to sit down on the toilet.
This is not the day to wet myself on top of everything else. I need help.
I hurry back to the bedroom and call reception. “I don’t know if this is allowed,” I begin, trying not to slur my words, “but is there any way you can send Melissa up to my room? She helped me earlier, and I need her again. She’ll know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry, madam,” he says. “But Melissa’s shift finished some time ago. Is there anyone else who can help?”
My breaths quicken as panic sets in. It would be a man who answered the phone, and I don’t want to explain my predicament to some faceless stranger. “No, it’s fine. Thanks,” I say, slamming down the phone. I drag my gaze to the door. Why couldn’t Hunter have any sisters?
I don’t want to ask Reid, but what other choice do I have? I know it will only add to the pressure on my bladder, but I open the last bottle of champagne, fill my glass, and take a generous gulp. Reid’s been drinking too, I remember. We can do this.
I march to the door and swing it open, only to let out a gasp. Sitting on the floor with a laptop resting on his outstretched legs is Mace. There’s a sneer on his face as his eyes snap up to mine. “What do you want?”
“Where’s Reid?”
“He’s been relieved of his duties,” Mace says coldly. “So, I repeat. What. Do. You. Want?”
I slam the door in his face. “Shit,” I mutter as I start to dance on the spot. This cannot be happening. “Shit, shit, shit.”
I glance at the steak knife again. How long would it take to cut away the layers of my dress? Too fucking long. Tears stream down my face and I let them fall. Crying will help dehydrate me, and I’m howling when I pick up the phone and punch in a number.
“Are you near?” I sob.
“Maddie, what’s wrong?” Hunter demands.
“I need you. Like, right now. This can’t wait. Please, will you come?” I ramble as sobs wrack my body. “Can you get here straight away?”
“I’ll be there in two minutes,” he promises and the line goes dead.