Chapter 26 Jade
Home is where the wine is.
Or, at least, it would be, if I hadn’t arrived home to a note on my kitchen counter from Aanya saying she took my last bottle because she was running late to a party and didn’t want to show up empty handed.
I had half a mind to employ medieval punishment practices for her thievery and have her hands removed on a butcher's block in front of the whole village. The only reason I’m not is because she needs those hands to play her angelic music, and I’m not in the habit of denying the world something that beautiful.
Undoubtedly, though, she will have her spare key privileges revoked, because what the fuck.
After the day I had, the only thing I was looking forward to was a large glass of cabernet, and now, that reality has been cruelly ripped away by my neighbors pilfering hands and inability to plan ahead.
On impulse, I pick up my phone and take a picture of me frowning with the note in my hand and shoot it off to Aanya. Then, on a last minute whim, I send it to Tieran too.
Aanya responds immediately with a million gifs all begging for mercy, and it’s impossible to actually be mad at her. The woman is sunshine personified, and being angry with her would be akin to holding a grudge against a bunny.
My head dips back into the fridge as I kick off my heels, groaning when my feet touch the wood floor and the aches start to level out.
Today has been non-stop, with hardly enough time to even eat.
Sustaining oneself with an apple and a protein bar for the majority of the day is not conducive to keeping energy high.
My stomach grumbles in protest as I shove things around, hunting for anything edible and substantial enough to curb the faint dizziness I’m starting to feel.
Giving up when I find nothing more than a cheese stick, ten different types of sauce, and a half-eaten stale sandwich from earlier in the week, I grab my phone, ready to rely on God's greatest gift to humankind—delivery.
However, the universe seems to be consorting with my manager—mother—in ruining my day, because as I go to put in an order, my phone rings with an incoming call from none other than Maxine herself.
“Can I call you back?” I ask, wedging the phone between my ear and shoulder so I can go through the takeaway menus that have been left on my doorstep by solicitors.
“I’d rather you didn’t. Who knows if I’ll actually get a call back.” I can hear the ice in her coffee bash against the side of the BPA plastic cup she got from Alfred’s. It’s seven in the evening here, so it must only be eleven in LA, putting Maxine on her third coffee of the day.
I place the phone on speaker, pull up the website for an Indian restaurant around the corner, and put in a rush order before my stomach tries to eat its way out of my body like an evil baby Renesmee.
Maybe I’ll watch Twilight tonight while I finish up some extra work.
She spends the next fifteen minutes droning on about a list of brands that have reached out for partnership deals, but I tuned her out halfway through because when would I even have the time?
“Hello?” She’s mad, I can tell by her tone and the general distaste that always seems to be directed at me.
“I’m here.”
“Did you shoot for the Autumn capsule today? You need to make sure you start teasing those products on your socials now.”
“Yes. I told you I would, and I did.” I had to drag myself out of bed at five in the morning after falling asleep only four hours prior, but I knew if I didn’t do it, I would get a call from her to remind me of my responsibilities. As if I could ever forget them.
“Don’t take that tone. I’m the one holding everything together. I’m the one stroking egos and reminding our many investors why you’re still a good gamble while you have this quarter life crisis of yours.”
A date with my toaster and bathtub is looking pretty romantic right about now.
My door buzzes, and I rush over to grab my food from the delivery driver, tipping him and saying a silent thank you as my mother continues her tirade of disappointment.
I may have come to London for this new business venture, as well as for Dad—a thing she likes to ignore— but the distance was certainly a bonus.
I don’t even bother plating up my food. I just grab a fork, head into my living room, and plop down on the floor, setting everything on the coffee table in front of me.
“Why do you sound so out of breath? Are you at home?”
Deep breath in, deep breath out. “Yes. Why?”
The bell rings again. Did the restaurant forget something?
My back and feet both bark out in pain as I stand and hobble to the door, body protesting every move.
When I open the door, I’m met not with the delivery driver, but with Maxine, and my fight or flight immediately kicks in.
She’s immaculately dressed in a boatneck Chanel dress, dark hair perfectly coiffed, and not a spot of makeup is smudged after a long travel day.
Most unsettling though is the same unfeeling stare I’ve come to expect is in her dark eyes.
I almost forgot about that. Is that what I used to look like to people?
My mouth hangs open in shock, my body going through the early stages of total shut down. “What are you doing here?”
“No hello for your mother?” She steps over the threshold, and my previously peaceful, modest flat—my safe haven—feels like a hand grenade was just tossed inside, and there’s nowhere for me to duck for cover.
“Hello, Mom. What are you doing here?”
Maxine surveys the cozy flat with barely-restrained disapproval. “Your meet and greet is tomorrow. It’s normal for the talent’s manager to attend, is it not?”
My stomach grumbles. “Yes, I just didn’t realize you would be there because you live five thousand miles away and didn’t say you were coming.”
“Well, here I am. I thought some face time would be good so we can talk about your…” she picks at the blanket draped over the back of my couch before dropping it as if catching some disease on contact, “priorities before I fly out after tomorrow's event.”
“Lucky me.”
“You could have chosen an apartment that was a little bigger, Jade. This place is the size of my closet. It’s not very ideal to show off to your followers. You have to show them the life they want; you have to tell them what to desire.”
“I like the size. It suits me.” My career shift was something I was prepared to defend, but my home wasn’t, and anger rises like a tide within me.
I like that it’s cozy, with charming details, and the fact that it doesn’t feel too big—too empty.
I like that I have neighbors I can hear, ones who make me feel less alone.
Why can’t I just have something the way I want it?
Why does it have to be because I think others will approve of it? Does my opinion not matter?
“I’m sure Brendan would take you back—”
“Mom.”
“—then you could move into the lovely Spanish Colonial he’s renting out in Calabasas.”
“Mom, stop.”
“It has an infinity pool.”
“You’re not listening to me.”
“You can get over your petty squabble. It was a minor indiscretion, and I’m sure he’s sorry.”
Not fucking likely. “Could you ever just take my side?”
“It’s business, and he’s good for your brand.”
“Well, as long as it looks good on paper, who cares if I’m happy, right?”
“What does that have to do with anything? This is what I’m talking about. This place,” she waves around with a sneer on her mouth, “has changed you. You never used to be so combative.”
“Now, I don’t believe that for a second.
The Jade I know is always primed for a fight.
” Tieran’s voice instantly soothes me, and when I look over, it’s to see his towering form dwarfing the open doorway of my flat as he leans against the trim, hair damp from his post practice shower.
In his hands are flowers and a bottle of my favorite wine, and the sight makes my throat tighten, my eyes filling with the threat of tears.
God, I missed him.
“Hi,” I squeak out.
The corner of his mouth curls up as he holds my stare, and the warmth in his gaze feels like a blanket wrapping around me, comforting me. “Hey, Hellfire.”
Tieran strides into the flat with the confidence of a king in his castle, not stopping until he’s slinging his strong arm around my waist and pulling me in to place a soft kiss against my temple. My eyes close as I lean into the touch, taking solace in his steady presence.
“I’m Tieran. It’s lovely to meet you.” He extends a hand out in greeting.
“Maxine,” she replies, eyeing up all his tattoos before hesitantly reaching out and giving him a half-assed handshake.
I’d love nothing more than to get him away from my mom so she can’t find a way to dig her claws into him, but I also don’t want to tip off that he’s someone she could leverage to her advantage.
She doesn’t need to know he’s one of my players or that he’s successful in his own right.
If she found that out, the wheels in her head would start to turn, and they wouldn’t stop until he ran away.
“What is it that you do, Tieran?”
I interrupt before he can respond. “He works in finance.”
Tieran lifts a brow but doesn’t try to correct me, instead leaning into the fake job he gave me the night we met. “I love a good spreadsheet.”
I think I love him a little bit in this moment—maybe a lot, if I'm being honest. It should scare me, the force of those feelings, but instead, I feel a peace settle into my bones, and strength like armor clicks into place as the warmth from his body curls around me. Nothing my mother says or does can touch me when he’s by my side.
Mom’s gaze bounces between us, jaw clenched, and I can see her mind turning, trying to find a way to manipulate the situation to fit her needs.
“Did you need something? We were about to eat dinner.” I place my free hand on Tieran’s stomach and feel him flex beneath my touch.
Show off.
“I just wanted to see where my daughter lives. Is that a crime?”