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“You know he doesn’t mind helping out. If you’re serious, though, I’ll ask him.” I have everything gathered, hand going to my pocket for my phone since it hasn’t stopped vibrating. Something must be wrong, and at the rate life is throwing blows, I imagine it’s just another hit.
“Please do. I’d rather pay him, knowing he’ll actually do the job, and maybe you’ll take a vacation besides the forced variety.” Sharon is a workhorse, putting in the hours, barely taking vacation. She’ll even come in sick. That’s when I put my foot down and send her right back home.
“You got it, and you’re one to talk about vacations. The only time you’re not working is when your family needs you. Maybe we both should take the same advice.” I look down at my phone. Alerts of texts from my mom. Those are images, so I’m assuming they’re of the girls. One from Forest saying thank you, and another from Hendrix that must be long seeing as how it’s only giving me a preview.
“Not a bad idea. I’m out of here.” I make a mental note to respond once we’re wheels up in the air.
“Fingers crossed it’s fast and things go smoothly with the contract,” Sharon says as I walk out of my office. My mind is already mentally going through a checklist of shit to get taken care of as well as a speech to give these fuckers for lying in the ground with their dick in the dirt.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Hendrix
It’s beentwenty-four hours since I sent a text message to Madden, and while I want to be the psycho girl who would fire off even more texts and calls, even I’m not that crazy. Though, I’m on the verge of sending a follow-up message, which is saying something because it was me who called a halt to everything and anything Madden Hughes. Thankfully, work is keeping me preoccupied from doing that in the form of steaming Journey’s clothes she’ll be doing a try-on session live on a huge website that will be broadcasted to anyone who joins in. I even called my cousin, Cadence, last night, complaining about Madden. We’re those cousins who oftentimes life gets in the way. We forget to call or make plans to see each other, but once one of us makes that phone call, it’s like zero time has lapsed. Cadence told me about this new job she’s starting, it’s a second job and has warning bells blaring in my head but she assured me that it wasn’t what it seemed and if things ran like it was supposed to she would be able to quit her boring job at the medical office she works at currently plus this new one she’s picking up and would be able to focus on the business she wants to run online to sell vintage and antique jewelry. After receiving the clarity that she wouldn’t be an escort, I listened to her, excited that it would make her money while she works to get her business up and off the ground.
“If you keep attacking the same spot, it’s going to become threadbare,” Journey interrupts me from what I’m doing. I really look at the spot and realize she’s right. My mind is definitely not where it should be. Madden and his devastatingly handsome charms, good looks, and magical hands have me lost in a daydream.
“Whoops.” I’m currently lost in my own little world of self-pity. I mean, it’s exactly where I belong to be after the bullshit I threw at Madden.
“Girl, you have been like this since you walked in. You want to talk about it?” Journey is dressed in a loose top and pants, hair up in a jaw clip, bare minimum in the makeup department. The amount of clothing she’ll be trying on, neither of us wants to do a plethora of touch-ups or laundry once it’s said and done.
“I texted Madden yesterday.” I place the steamer on the table beside the rolling rack, knowing that doing two things at the same time when it requires talking about my mistakes and owning up to them is not easy for me.
“About time.” Leave it to Journey to not hold anything back.
“Yeah, except he didn’t respond, and it’s been over a day. I don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to send him a follow-up text or call him? I’ve never been in this situation. Remember, I swore off any sort of relationship after the last one.” I went through the gamut of emotions—sadness, hurt, anger, and then peace. It also came with a hardened heart, so yeah, I’m a damn mess.
“I’d call him. If Madden has his hooks set in you like it so clearly seems he has, I think you need to be more persistent. He chased after you, calling, texting, tracking down your address and then some. A relationship isn’t just one-sided; it’s putting your all into it from both parties.” She is referring to Josh, who didn’t do anything except what he wanted to do, demeaning me with his derogatory remarks. And I was so complacent that I didn’t even realize he was doing it until it was too late.
“Fine, I’ll call him. If he doesn’t answer, then what do I do?” God, who even am I? If this were a year ago or even two years ago, there wouldn’t have been a care in the world.
“See if he answers, then go from there, but first, we’ve got to get this show on the road. We go live in an hour, and as much as I’d love to ignore work, we can’t. It’s crunch time.” At least now I have a game plan in effect.
“You’re right. I’ll steam the rest of these. The camera and lights are already set up. You can change into the first outfit. I should be done steaming this one by the time you’re ready, then we can adjust the angles until it’s perfect.” That’s what influencers or creators don’t show you. There’s a lot that goes into the behind-the-scenes stuff, capturing the right lighting, and when you’re going live, a lot can go wrong.
“Hendrix, it’s going to be okay. Things always have a way of working out.” Journey brings me in for a quick hug. I had no idea how much I needed that hug until the tears start to form in the corners of my eyes. To prevent them from sliding down my cheeks, I make fast work of blinking rapidly until they’re dried up. That’s also about the same time Journey lets go, looks in my eyes but doesn’t say a word. She knows my emotions are all over the place and still lets me be.
“Yeah, it will. Now, shoo, away with yourself. We have work to do, and then I’ve got a phone call to make.” I grab the steamer, making out like I’m going to steam Journey if she doesn’t get into the first outfit. The longest parts of our days are the type of days when it’s try-on after try-on, and don’t get me started on what tomorrow will bring. It’ll consist of cleaning up the space we’re currently working in, editing some of the video from the live feed to use on Instalook, and emails and direct messages that fly in will be through the roof. Journey tries to get to all of them as much as she can, but with the amount of followers she has, it’s hard. It’s why sometimes, if it’s a question for a link, I’ll help her out, but for the most part, Journey is doing as much as she can while I do the behind-the-scenes stuff. The rest of the day passes in a blur, and by the time it’s done and over with, I’m a ball of nerves and flying out of the door as soon as I can to call Madden.
TWENTY-NINE
Hendrix
“I guessthis should be an answer enough, huh, Jolene?” I talk to my dog two days later about the response I haven’t received from Madden. I did like Journey said and called him. It rang and rang until his voice came over the line. The idiot I am bumbled through the entire voicemail I left, and he didn’t call back. I did get a text, though, saying he was in a meeting and would get in touch with me. I’m not sure if Madden actually texted that out or if it was an auto response. That was yesterday, and this is today. I’ve never looked at my phone as many times as I have lately, and it’s damn pathetic. Even taking Jolene on a three-hour hike didn’t do the trick. What it had me doing was looking for Madden and Cooper at every turn. If this is karma, it sucks, not to mention the fact that my body is like a light switch. One thought of Madden has it skyrocketing into overdrive. It’s not like my hands or toys are doing the trick. If anything, she’s like, ‘Hey, remember Madden? We want him, and nothing else will do.’ Traitorous body of mine.
I’ve kept as busy as possible the last couple of days, working as much as I could, hiking with Jolene, and going so far as putting in extra hours for work at home. Which is why my laptop is mocking me. I could be doing all kinds of things right now. Except I’m not sure my mind would allow me to do anything except think about Madden. The way he gave me that signature grin of his when I was throwing my attitude at him. How he laughed at my dramatic ways, taking it in stride. The way he looked at me when I was naked, riding his cock, allowing me all of two minutes before he had me on my hands and knees, my back plastered to his front, his fingers on my clit, the stinging slap of his palm against the whole of my pussy right when I was crashing over the edge, feeling him release inside my body, his body caging me in afterwards, allowing me to feel his heaviness even for just a moment. It’s a reel in my head that plays over and over again.
“Shhh, you know it’s not time yet, though,” I tell Jolene when she barks to let me know she’s ready for dinner. Every night, like clockwork, my girl is ready to eat. The same can’t be said for myself. I grab a toy out of her overflowing basket of all kinds of bones, stuffed animals, and tuggies to redirect her attention, then I open my laptop. I might as well do a little bit of work until Jolene has enough of the waiting game. Which reminds me that I took nothing out to thaw for myself. A sandwich will have to do.
I open the web browser. A news article is on the first page because yes, I do like knowing what’s going on in the world, but not by watching the news. What I’m unprepared for is to see Madden,theMadden Hughes, on the front page. I click on the image. It takes me to the news article. I read it once, fast at first, then a second time, letting the words saturate in my mind, realizing that Madden kept something from me, something I had no idea about. It seems the man I’m falling in love with has a big secret. He’s not married, thank God. That would be the absolute worst-case scenario. Madden hasn’t been arrested either. I guess that could be bad, too, but this is different, so much more than I could ever wrap my head around.
My phone appears in my hand, my fingers flying through the contact list until I pull up Madden’s, bringing it to my ear as it rings and rings. Just when I think it will go to voicemail, a rich throaty voice answers.
“Hendrix, shit, I’m sorry. I should have called you back yesterday.” I don’t even get a hello; I get an apology. Who is this man, and where has he been all my life? And why exactly was I a bitch to him this entire time? What I heard through the one sentence he gave me is a tiredness, one that runs bone deep. I also hear two little girls laughing in the background and what I can assume is Cooper barking.
“It’s okay, um, I think you’ve been rather busy, judging by the news article I just read.” I’m not upset. There’s no reason to be. I’m just, well, shocked. What a change from the last person I was with to today. From Josh, who had no problem with me paying for any and everything, to Madden, who could pay for a simple dinner ten thousand times over.
“Yeah, I’d like to explain, and I think we have a lot to talk about, except I have my nieces for the evening. If you wouldn’t mind coming to my place and bringing Jolene, once they’re down for the night after we eat or Forest picks them up, we can talk,” Madden suggests.
