MADISON

“The asshole did what?!” Denise shouts, lipstick paused in her rearview mirror.

Fiddling with her car door lock, I repeat it. “He kissed me next to his framed wedding photos.”

“When was this?”

“Three days ago.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t want to be around him, but I’m fine. He hasn’t showed up since then. Nothing happened. I didn’t let it. I think he was just testing the waters. Which is funny because that’s what Nicholas said he was doing that night. But of course I wanted to kiss him, so that’s a whole different situation.”

“Nicholas Cocker is not married with two kids, signing your paycheck!” She goes back to applying and mutters, “What a piece of shit this boss of yours is. I want to grab his nuts and twist them until he apologizes.” She drops the tube in her purse and stares at me. “Did you knee him in the nuts?”

“I pushed him off me, but…”

“That’s it? Did you tell her?”

“Mrs. Schweis? No. Not yet.”

“Madison, you have to tell her!”

Slumping, I stare out the windshield at a warehouse door as party-goers happily make their way inside, oblivious to the fact that I’m in a moral dilemma. “I’m worried about the kids.”

“You should be!”

“Not like that.” I hold her look. “I told you, remember, that they’ve had a string of nannies.”

“And now we know why!”

“He didn’t try this for eight months. That’s how long I’ve been working for them. Maybe I’m the first one he did this to? Perhaps it was just an impulse, that he was having a rough day? Is that possible?”

Denise grabs the steering wheel and cocks her head. “Or maybe he pulled this shit earlier with them. This time he was waiting until you had enough time to bond with those poor kids. That is one fucked-up man. He’s in a position of power. You’re his employee. What a scumbag!”

“I know. Thankfully I don’t see him often. He works late.”

“Oh, I bet he does. Works who is the question. What a piece of shit.” She zips her bag. “You ready?” Her glance darts to my boring grey slacks and white blouse. “You’re killing me with this outfit. What are you, a dowdy receptionist from the ‘90s?”

“You really think I’m going to dress cute when I go to work?”

Cocking an eyebrow she gets out of the car and I follow, doors automatically shutting behind us. We hear the locks click into place as she reminds me, “You never dressed up before that fucker made his move, so don’t give me that excuse.” She stops walking and digs around in her bag. “Do you have lipstick?” Before I can answer she mutters, “Of course you don’t. Here. This shade might be a little dark for your coloring but who gives a fuck. You’ll be striking.”

“You mean I’ll get eyeballed for imitating a clown.”

She hands it over. “Oh, yeah, lipstick is just like putting a ball on your nose.”

“I meant because I don’t have anything else on. Never mind.” Leaning forward to the compact mirror she holds up, I slide magenta around for a minute, lean back for a better look, surprised. “Not bad. See, my problem is I never know which color to buy. Then I waste a ton of money on fuchsia, coral, and nude that looks like death.”

“Keep it,” she says with finality, throwing the mirror in her clutch and heading for the door.

Tucking the gift in my pocket next to my keys and credit card, since I didn’t bring a purse, I follow my stylish friend into the first party we’ve been to since the fire. She is dressed to impress and the bouncer seems to approve. We slow down but he doesn’t care about I.D.s.

I hurry in and whisper to Denise, “If he knew about my fight with Marla maybe we wouldn’t have been welcomed so easily.”

She laughs and looks for someone charging a cover fee. But there’s nobody manning the inside. We turn a corner and freeze at the sight of a party like none we’ve ever been to of Billy’s. There are cages hanging from the ceiling with sexy dancers writhing in them. Flashing lights slicing the darkness to bits in time to a hot beat. There’s a stage that’s packed, a dance floor on the lower level, too.

“Wow!” Denise grins. “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know! This is crazy. And no door charge?”

We start moving in, our heads swiveling to check out a stage where it seems anyone can dance if they find room to. Looping music on his computer to our right on another elevated platform, I recognize the same DJ Billy always has. And not only has he risen to another level, he’s working on three computers now, not one, hypnotic head bobbing as he moves between them with concentrated bliss.

Denise grabs my hand and guides me to the back. “You smell meatballs?”

Inhaling I nod and we walk faster until we arrive at an enormous counter add-on steaming with four crock pots. Billy is manning them solo, chatting up the crowd. His eyes brighten upon sight of Denise and he shouts, “Look who finally decided she wants my balls!”

She laughs, joy in her eyes, so happy to see him. “Billy Cooper, what the hell have you done? Look at this place!”

“Pretty cool, huh? You know what I realized? People need to have fun! After that fire, I wasn’t going to do anymore parties, but Nicholas and Matt convinced me. Then they blew up! My parties aren’t fluff, Denise, they matter! Life is fucking hard, right? We all need a break, a place to let all that shit disappear for a few blessed hours.”

She waves yellow fingernails. “Alright, fine, you convinced me. Give me your balls, Billy.”

His eyes widen before he jumps into action like she’ll change her mind if he takes too long. Planting a cup-o-meatballs in her waiting hand, he bows to make the gesture more poignant. “M’lady.”

She giggles, “Oh stop!”

He glances behind me to shout, “Nicholas! You’re my witness! Denise finally wants my balls!”

I look over my shoulder and lock eyes with Nicholas Cocker. In all black, sleek as hell, he’s standing with three people, Matthew and two beautiful women. My heart thuds in my chest, and I nod a greeting. Nothing big, just a slight dipping of my head before I avert my eyes and wish I’d worn something else.

Denise moans as she chews.

Billy’s hoping for the best.

She swallows, her voice a little breathy, “That’s delicious.”

“I’ve got two more better than those.”

Her eyes spring to life as she reaches over the counter to swat at him. He dodges it, laughing, before he asks, “Want one, too, Addison?”

“It’s Madison,” Nicholas corrects him from right behind me.

My heart kicks my ribs as I turn around. “Hi.”

There’s a question in those long-lashed eyes as he searches me like he’s seeing my soul. “Didn’t expect to see ya here, Maddie.” The people disappear, and with them the music. He frowns, searching my eyes like he doesn’t know what to say. “It’s been three months. I’ve looked for you.”

“You have?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

His gaze hovers on my lips, then rises. “I was wondering how Bucky was. Did you find his owner?”

The music returns. Conversations louder, almost as if they’re laughing at me.

Tucking some hair behind my ear I say, “Bucky’s doing really well. Still with me. They never answered my messages.” At his frown I explain, “There was a number and I called it.”

“Fuck, really, they never answered?”

“Exactly,” I mutter, gazing at his lips as he licks them in thought. I’m about to return to Denise, my lighthouse in the storm, but Nicholas wraps his hand around my hip and shocks this boat into unsure waters.

“You want to get a drink?”

“I’m drowning already thanks.”

“What?” he smiles, not clear on the joke. His hand gives me a firm squeeze as he asks in a serious tone, “You just got here, right?”

Frowning I glance to Denise to find her excited, mouthing, Go!

“Uh, sure, let’s get a drink.” His warm hand releases me and I suck in air as we head away, but then I feel it rest on the small of my back with light pressure. “You have one already though, Nicholas.”

“You don’t.”

“Weren’t you with a date?”

Nicholas scowls like he doesn’t understand the question. Then his eyes clear. “Oh, them? Matthew is trying to hook up with the redhead. I was his wing man, that’s it. But he can handle himself. How’ve you been?”

“Good.”

“Where’ve you been?”

I blink, wondering what is going on. “Um, around. I live here in Atlanta so, just living. Walking the dog. Taking care of the kids.”

His frown deepens, sharp cheekbones catching in the strobe-lights. “You have kids?” Suddenly he chuckles, “Oh, you mean your job. How is that going?”

“Fine. The parents are…a little odd, but the kids have been so great.” We walk up to the back of the bar, completely ignoring the mosh pit of need. Nicholas apparently doesn’t wait in lines. “Billy’s hiring bartenders now, too?”

“Had to. Hey Rudy, can you get us a gin and soda, lime squeezed in?”

“You got it, Nicholas!”

“You remember my drink.”

“I have a good memory.” As he pays the man and sets down his own cup to do so, I covertly check his body out. His clothes are perfect and I’m dressed like I’ve given up. Closing my eyes I inwardly curse myself.

“I came from work, that’s why I’m dressed like this. It’s a very androgynous job.” He hands me my cup while I nervously chatter away. “Bucky’s doing really well. He bonded to me pretty quickly. At first he hated when I left him alone but then he started understanding that I was coming home. Plus I’m never gone long, so that’s good. And the kids love him. I get to take him to work, that’s why I’m not gone long. He comes with me. Except when I get groceries, stuff like that. Or tonight, I mean, he’s not in the car or anything. He’s super easy going. Just wants to be pet. And it turns out he’s protective of me as well, so that’s good. His pooping has gotten so much better, too. At first it was like water but now it’s firm and easy to pick up and oh my God what am I saying? You don’t want to hear this!” I use the cup like a gag, shoving its rim into my mouth and blinking up into his smiling eyes.

The gorgeous stud is laughing at me but trying not to. “How’s his urine? Nice and yellow? Enough vitamins?”

Closing my eyes I exhale, “I refuse to go on any further.”

He laughs while I stare at his perfect teeth. “Maddie, come on, tell me more about his diarrhea.”

A grin twitches to life as I roll my eyes. “Okay, fine, make fun of me.”

“I think you’re fun enough already. I don’t have to do anything.”

“Greek gods aren’t allowed to tease mortals!”

His thick eyelashes flicker as he becomes intimate. “You’re likening me to a god?”

“Well, you’ve got the coloring of a Greek, so…”

“My grandmother has Italian blood. It passed down to my father. And one of his brothers, too. A bunch of us cousins.”

I know the Cocker Family is large but I don’t know the specifics. Most people know the famous cousins who are in the news a lot.

The rockstar, Gabriel.

Falcons star quarterback, Eric.

His cousin, Hannah, and her dad the ex-Senator, because of their famous story and how beautiful what he did for her was.

One is a billionaire from a software invention he patented but I don’t know the specifics. I think his name is Ethan, might be Ian—I have no clue.

Nicholas sees my refusal to pry.

He smiles, eyes softening a little. “You can ask me, Maddie.”