Page 18 of Before the Encore

Frank cut her a glare. Even Kam shook her head, fingers ripping into the pack of biscuits. Okay, lines crossed. Loud and clear.

“Sorry,” Madison said. “I just missed you. That’s all.”

Though admitted with a teasing lilt, the truth behind the statement cut a little close. As much as the little diva annoyed her, the morning in her absence had felt a million different ways of wrong. Not only because she didn’t have someone nagging her every five minutes, but because no one else was nearly enough fun to tease. To avoid saying anything else—offensive or otherwise—she sucked on the Slurpee straw.

Luckily, Bonnie rolled her eyes and lowered her giant handbag until it sat beside the sofa. “I wanted to apologise for running out on you yesterday. You didn’t deserve that, and it wasn’t professional of me. It just took me by surprise. It’d been a loaded day with lots of emotions and—”

“And Bailey was being a complete dick.” All eyes fell on Madison. She slurped, the sweet cherry slushie sliding cold down her throat. “What? We’re all thinking it. He was.”

Kam crunched on a biscuit. Bonnie’s gaze lingered on Madison. Something flickered in her eyes before she glanced away.

“Anyway,” Bonnie continued, puffing up her chest. “I’m sorry. This partnership is important to me, and I really want it to be successful for both of us.”

“We do too, Bonnie.” Frank held up his box of doughnuts appreciatively. “Thank you again for these.”

Such a suck-ass.

“Frank.” Kam pointed the pack of biscuits at him. “Cig break?”

He nodded, and the two of them slipped out the doors, doughnuts and biscuits in tow.

Quiet lingered in the space they left behind.

Bonnie glanced at Madison. “Not you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t smoke. Not tobacco, anyway.”

“Right, I see.”

“What about you?” Though Madison already knew the answer.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t do—”

“Anything fun,” Madison finished with a sly grin. She really had missed her.

Bonnie huffed, but there was no real annoyance behind it. She pinned her with those big brown eyes. “Are you like this all the time?”

“Pretty much. You better get used to it.”

“I suppose so.” Her gaze slid away, sadness tainting her features.

Madison held up her drink. “Thank you for this, though. You even remembered my favourite flavour.”

God. Am I being a suck-ass now?

“It’s not hard to remember. It’s the most basic.”

Madison raised an eyebrow. “Did you just call me basic?”

“There are so many flavours you could choose—mango, sour watermelon, piña colada…and you pick cherry. Ergo, basic.”

Madison pressed a hand to her chest as a chuckle escaped her throat. “Damn. Slapping me with the Latin too.”

Then Bonnie burst into laughter—and not a cute little giggle, but a loud, ugly cackle that didn’t suit her.

Except it did.

The sound pulled at Madison’s lips, a mix of joy and pure surprise at eliciting such an unfiltered response.