Chapter 4
Beth
“You? You have a date?” Tyson laughs.
“I don’t understand why you are laughing.” There’s no reason why I would not be going on dates. He’s heard my horror stories of several bad dates. He often sits on his couch with a snack while listening to my date-gone-bad stories.
He swishes his afternoon drink, the ice cubes clinking against the glass as he looks me over as if he’s trying to peer into my brain for all the sordid details.
“You don’t really date, B. You more like graze.”
A part of me feels the small dig. To be honest, I didn’t date. I haven’t ever had any major relationships that were worthy of an extended chapter. I’ve been pining silently after Jacob Maddox for years, and even now as I sit in Tyson’s office, I’m pining. Although a part of me is questioning everything. What if this date becomes a waste of time, or what if it’s a repeat of the last six months? What if I’m just a means to an end, a fix for Jacob?
“So then maybe it’s not a date, maybe I’m just trying to get some?”
“You are picky and don’t just sleep with anybody. I recall attempting to get under your skirt.” He laughs.
“And I remember shutting you down quicker than the Flash. Remember Ty, you aren’t God’s gift to every woman.” I smirk.
“Just one. So who is the guy?” he asks.
“Just some guy.” I shrug.
“You mean you aren’t going to tell me? That’s not fair, I’ve shared things with you.”
“Things that, sometimes, I did not need to know, mind you.” I point my finger at him and give him a stern, yet playful look.
“But the point is… I shared.”
“You over-shared!” I point at him laughing.
A tapping against the door frame and a clearing of a throat interrupts the stare down that Tyson and I were sharing.
“Sorry to interrupt all this hard work.” Jacob walks into the room, eyes Tyson and quirks his eyebrow at me.
“No worries. Beth was avoiding my questions about her date next week.” Tyson says.
“Avoiding, eh?”
My face flames and I feel it creep across my entire body, my chest freckles making their random appearance that they always did when I was flustered, or embarrassed.
“She won’t give me any juice on it.” Tyson says.
“Interesting. And why is that?” Jacob asks. He's standing casually with his hands in his pockets, but his stare is intense.
“Why talk about something that I’m sure will be a flop.” I shrug, looking Jacob in the eyes only half joking.
“So you think that this date will suck and you’ll go back to fake-dating surfer boys?” Jacob challenges, still watching me.
“Fake dating? Surfer boys? Like Luke? You and Luke barely dated, or that sad attempt to be together right after college.” Tyson contributes.
“Yeah, uh huh.” Jacob snorts.
Tyson looks at Jacob and then at me, shakes his head and then puts his glass down.
“So wait, you two?” Tyson needs to pick his jaw up off the floor. “Now I understand why you weren’t telling me anything.” he says to the room and then he turns fully to look me in the eyes. “You do know my brother, right?” Tyson points to Jacob.
“I’m standing right here, you jerk.” Jacob mumbles.
“I didn’t want to say anything about something that I wasn’t sure about where it would go, what would happen.” I say again.
“Then why even agree to a date?” Tyson asks.
“Again, right here, guys.”
“I like him.” I whisper-shout at Tyson.
“Since when? And seriously, we’ve been friends for years and you’ve never said anything or shown any interest in him.” Tyson asks.
“That’s not important.” I brush off with an eye roll. “This conversation just got to be too much. I have a job to do. Tyson, you suck.” I stand and walk past both Maddox brothers with their eyes following me. I hear one of them whistle and then I’m too far away to hear anything else as I make my way to the elevators.
***
I immediately regretted having lunch with Tyson. I didn’t want the date with Jacob to become public knowledge just yet. I’ve been able to keep my crush on the down low for years, but suddenly I feel under the microscope now that there’s a potential of more people knowing that we’re more than just friends and business associates. While that wouldn’t be a bad thing, it’s certainly not too professional. Tyson walks by my office and chuckles every time. Jacob lingers by the doorway when he thinks I wasn’t looking to try to get my attention. And Allison was blowing up my phone with texts about needing to talk about this date that Tyson blabbed to her about already. Gossip Queens.
Luckily, I had a week until our date was taking place. Jacob was heading to Atlantic City for one of his debaucherous weekends with his cousin, which assisted in the way that I was feeling in regards to how this date would go. Everyone who knows about Jacob and Bradford’s trips knew that there is plenty of drinking involved, some gambling, and a lot of women. You would never see any of these excursions in the Page Six news, but one didn’t have to be a complete idiot to know these two let loose while they are there.
I rub my temples and try to focus on my computer screen. I’m not able to concentrate at work right now with the majority of my brain’s real estate thinking about what or maybe who Jacob will be doing this weekend. I packed up my bag and shut everything down. I was leaving early, but today was Friday so it’s justifiable. I poked my head in Tyson’s office; luckily he wasn’t there, so instead, I sent him a text while waiting for the elevator.
Jacob must have seen me walk by because he was at my side before I could hit send on my phone screen.
“Playing hooky?” He tips his head.
“It’s Friday.” I explain.
“That it is, so, um …do you have plans?” He rubs the back of his neck.
“Netflix and chill.” I say keeping my face straight.
He appears to choke on the air he’s breathing as he beats on his chest and mimics pain.
“What? You care?” I inquire.
“I just asked you out yesterday.”
“And your point is?”
“That you aren’t taking this date seriously.”
“Jake, are you feeling insignificant? As if you don’t matter?” I put my hand on his chest and tilt my head as I bat my eyes.
“Are you really Netflixing and chilling?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I think that I’m just going to let you marinate on that over the weekend, while you are on your trip.” I smirk as the elevator doors open and I saunter in with an extra sway of my hips.
“So not fair.” he expels.
His mouth is practically on the floor as I turn to face him. I cross my arms in front of me and stick my hip out. As the doors close, he looks like he’s going to lunge forward, but he pulls himself back just as the doors fully close.
I feel horrible for leaving him with thinking that I was going to go and hook up with someone, but that’s how I felt about him going away this weekend. I’m not a fool; I knew what went on during those trips. And while he was good with keeping his face out of the tabloids, what happened would always somehow be spoken about somewhere. It was also common knowledge of how much of a playboy Jacob was. So I will let him stew, wondering what I was up to all weekend.
Which, in reality, will be Netflixing and plenty of ice cream.
Jacob
Atlantic City is a wasteland. Why I continue to come here is puzzling, as Vegas is significantly better. This is the first time that I am not here as a full participant like I usually am, the typical manwhore looking to hook up, get wasted, and gamble.
My cousin, Brad, isn't asking too many questions. He’s actually pretty distant and disconnected from conversations, more so than usual. While he has two chicks hanging on either side of him, the girl that I brushed off is now hanging on his right arm as if I never turned her down. I am, however, gambling my ass off and drinking like a fish. I may have had a cigar or two, only because I was trying to avoid the topic of females. Brad joked with me on the plane ride over here about showing interest in Tyson's ”other woman,” still not fully believing that Tyson is on the straight and narrow and no longer being the slut that he used to be just a little over a year ago. Luckily, the topic changed and he was easily distracted by one of the flight attendants.
My cousin is a Maddox. He’s cold, quiet, calculated, and very sure of himself. He’s never casual in his appearance and always on show. He can be relaxed, but those moments are few and far between. I’ve never seen him share a laugh with anyone in the family aside from myself. Before my father passed away, Tyson and I had just met him. He seemed to appear out of nowhere, with some random introduction as the son of an illegitimate child no one knew about from our aunt. It was a shock to us that Father named him as a major part of the company. However, we still have no idea what he really does.
Sometimes, being a Maddox brings you ass and a lot of it. I never used my last name or anything dealing with the company as a way to get chicks. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm not a bad looking guy, and I'm sure with the number of chicks that I've fucked along the way, word has gotten around about my bedroom skills. I get chicks the old-fashioned way; I approach them and if they seem like they are interested, we have our fun. I lied to Beth when I said chicks just throw themselves at me. I have to try just like every other guy out there, although sometimes I admit that I haven’t in the past, and women would just throw themselves at me. I've been lucky so far that I'm not as visible as my brother or cousin is. I'm just hoping that any of the recent and upcoming events that I’m attending for the company doesn’t change my incognito status.
My mother practically strong-armed me into going to the event, which is only a partial lie. I heard that the tool parading around with Beth was going and I had never known her to go to a Mad Designs event with a date. So I listened to Mother about going to the event, only to be bombarded with questions about my sudden appearance by paparazzi and being blinded by lights as I looked from camera to camera on the red carpet.
I stand at the craps table, swirling my whiskey in the glass while I place my bets.
"You want company?" a voice purrs into my ear from behind.
I slowly turn and come face to face with Charity, someone who I've hooked up with here in the past. She isn't a hooker, but she could very well be one. The night after we fucked, she fucked Brad. At least I got first dibs and he got my sloppy seconds. I do recall her being decent company, but not someone that I would share secrets with or confide in.
"How you doing?" I ask motioning to the space beside me.
"I'm good. I didn't know you were in town." she says as if we exchanged information and kept tabs on one another.
"Spur of the moment weekend trip that Brad talked me into." I shrug.
"I see." She smiles, running her hand across my top of my hand on the edge of the table.
I could easily take her upstairs, fuck her, and no one would know.
You would know, you sick bastard!
I shake my head and smile to myself at the most adult talk I've had with myself in my head.
"Listen Char, I would love to have your company this evening, but that's all it will be, just company." I say as nicely as I can.
She doesn't bat an eye. "Is Bradford around?"
"He is, over there at the next table. Between the Barbies." I tip my head in that direction.
"If you change your mind, find me." And like she arrived, she's gone just as quickly.
Should I have taken advantage of willing pussy, pussy that I know damn well is good?
I asked Beth to go on a date just yesterday. A part of me doesn't know what to expect, while another part is eager to just try to become a perfect gentleman and not do what I would normally do.
Was she serious about Netflixing and Chilling? I know that’s a thing, though I haven’t done it myself. I don’t do the whole connection thing. Was she just fucking with me, or was she straight up serious?
I sat at the table for a moment longer, then I got up and I cashed in my winnings. I texted Brad that I was heading up to my room and began making my trek. In the lobby, I saw another woman I've hooked up with sitting on one of the love seats surrounded by a group of women I'm not familiar with. As I nod to the concierge, I hear a squeal and then the clacking of heels getting louder as the woman I somewhat recognized grabs my arm and then flung hers around my neck.
I've really got to stop staying at this hotel. I roll my eyes.
"Jakey!" she squeals.
I hate it when women call me that. They think that Jacob is too formal, so they want to make my name more playful. When Beth shortens my name, I like the way it sounds coming out of her mouth.
"Come hang out with my friends and me!" she pleads.
"I'm heading in for the night." I say, shaking my head.
"Oh c'mon, we’ll make it worth your while, I promise." she says, her voice lowering.
"I would love to—"
"Yay!" She starts to drag me by the arm before letting me finish.
"But like I said, I'm heading up to my room for the night. It's been a long day and I'd rather just crash."
"That doesn't sound like you." She puts her hands on her hips and sticks out her lower lip.
"Sorry, maybe some other time."
She releases my arm and basically stomps away as I turn head to the elevator.
Atlantic City is boring when you're not willing to fuck everything that comes your way!