Bryce

The lights of downtown Chicago illuminate my empty living room. I remove my jacket and walk to the bar to pour myself a glass of bourbon. It’s been a long day full of meetings and dealing with Tiffany’s shit at the office. I rub my tired face, take my glass, and sit down on the sofa, facing the window overlooking the city. The burn of the bourbon goes down smooth as I take a few sips before placing the glass down. My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, and I fight the annoyance building inside me.

Tiffany: I really need you to come get me.

Bryce: Why?

Tiffany: Just come get me. You know where I am …

I read the message more than once. The idea of going there, after all these years, is pulling on my cold heart. The grip on my cell phone tightens. She knows I can’t go there. The guilt and pain are too much.

I press Peter’s contact, and he answers on the third ring.

“What’s up, boss?”

“I need you to get Tiffany,” I start to say. “I can’t get her, and I don’t know what’s wrong or why she needs me.”

“Is she …?”

I interrupt him. “Yes.”

“Okay, boss.”

The line disconnects, and I’m back in my quiet solitude. This is where I fight with the demons and shadows of my past. I force myself to think of anything else—any deals going on that need my attention or figuring out a time to visit my mother and sister in New York City. Just fucking anything to take my mind off what I can’t change.

Getting up, I walk to the window and stare at the city as my mind wanders. Over in the distance, I see the shopping center, and Madison’s face comes to my mind. Her silence and defiance don’t bother me as much as I thought. Being with her helps me relax, and I haven’t done that in years.

I should be in my office finalizing my meeting for tomorrow. But I don’t. Instead, I’m thinking about her. I’m not the type of man to chase or be rejected, so this is a first. And if I’m being honest, I like it.

Finishing my drink, I head to my bedroom and toss my tie and shirt over on the chair in the corner of my bedroom. Sitting down on my bed, I remove my shoes and socks, then lie down, staring at the ceiling. I shut my eyes, and Madison’s gorgeous smile appears in my mind. Her shy and cautious smile, the way she twirls her hair between her fingers while reading, and how her face blushes with heat when I’m near. She’s trying to pretend I don’t affect her. Thinking about what Kaylee said, about Madison being hurt before, gives me an idea. If she’s guarding herself, then I’ll need to show her she’s more than just a conquest to me. I turn my head from side to side, taking in how empty my king-size mattress is without her next to me.

My phone vibrates, and it’s a text from Peter.

Peter: All set.

Bryce: Thank you.

When I set it down, it vibrates again, and I see it’s my baby sister calling.

“Hi, Renee.”

“Oh my God, he remembers my name!” she says between laughing and trying to be serious. “Big brother, it’s been a while. What’s going on?”

“Nothing too much,” I respond, clearing my throat.

“Busy with building your empire, huh?”

I sit up on my bed, rolling my neck to ease the upcoming tension. “I guess you can say that. What’s going on? I know you wouldn’t call just to shoot the shit.”

“You’re right. I’m calling because Tiffany sent me a few messages.”

I groan, clenching my fists because I know exactly where this is going. “And?”

“So who is she?” I freeze and need to know what Tiffany has said. “Bryce?”

“I’m here. What’d she tell you?”

“Your new personal stylist is a money-hungry whore, and she wants me to talk to you. Is it true? Are you really trying to get with some hoochie?”

Anger spits out of my body. “No,” I calmly tell her. “Madison’s nothing like that, and Tiffany has no business talking to you about my business. But since you’re my sister, I’ll ease your mind. Madison’s my personal stylist and wants nothing to do with me. She’s brushed off every move I’ve made, and she refuses to go on a date with me.”

There’s silence on the other end, so I’m almost positive I’ve rendered my sister speechless.

“I like her already. You’ve met your match, dear brother. Please don’t do anything stupid. Mom wants you to be happy, and so do I.”

“I know.”

Renee laughs through the phone, her voice light and airy. “Okay, I’m going to get going and work on this project for class. Call me if you need anything. I love you, Bryce.”

“I love you too, Renee.”

Setting the phone down on my nightstand, I pace my bedroom, unsure how to handle the situation with Tiffany. As much as I don’t care for her, I’m not going to attack her for trying to get involved in my life. I look at my phone and debate whether I should text Madison.

“Fuck it,” I mutter and grab my phone. Sitting back down on my bed, I send her a text message.

Bryce: I hope it’s not too late to text you.

Madison: It’s not. Unless you’re going to be rude and think I’m some booty call.

Bryce: Not at all. I need to know something. Has Tiffany confronted you in any way?

The ellipses show up, bouncing up and down on my screen, disappearing and reappearing moments later.

Madison: No. She’s been fine.

“Liar,” I mutter again. I don’t understand why she won’t tell me the truth. If Tiffany’s going to be rude to her, then I want to handle it.

Bryce: Are you sure?

Madison: Yes. Positive. And if she was, it’s nothing I can’t handle. Thank you for asking and for your concern.

Bryce: Of course. Well, have a good night.

Madison: You too.

An undeniable smile breaks across my face, rereading my messages with Madison. It’s nice to have someone who doesn’t do exactly what I say and can stand up for herself. Almost every woman I’ve been with has been easy to dominate and control. Not Madison. With her, I can’t use my usual tactics. I need to tread carefully if I don’t want to lose her.