This story has been published.
K.Carr
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Two days. That was all it took before the media found out about our engagement. How? Only God knew! Matt hadn't even told his family yet and I dreaded their reaction. I looked over at Dante as we did our warm-up stretches. He was being a bit guarded about it all. Oh, he congratulated me when I told him, but it didn't seem sincere. He was more concerned about the blow-out I'd had with my family. He made me rehash every word uttered and then hugged me tight before saying it was long overdue. I had cried a bit more and Dante had assured me things would only get better, that they would come around once they accepted their previous abhorrent behaviour and apologized for it. I could only wish. Aunt Cleo's face when she said we were finished was burnt into my memory. She had looked so hurt, wounded, betrayed. I had betrayed my family.
"Madi, the reporters are still out front!" Bri fumed as she walked into the fishbowl. "Gloria said she was going to call the police if they didn't leave. You'd think it was Prince William you were engaged to."
I laughed at the thought as I retorted, "Well, he's already married to a beautiful woman, although when I first moved here I hoped somehow I would catch his eye and he would fall madly in love with me. Ah well, no throne for me."
Dante choked on his laughter, then Bri started laughing too as she placed one leg atop the barre and began stretching.
"What?" I asked. "I'm princess material, hell, I'm a Queen in this upcoming production."
Dante laughed even harder. Huh. It wasn't that farfetched. It could happen. I mean, look at Matt and me. That got me thinking about my knight. When we flew home on Saturday, his driver had been waiting to ferry us to Matt's Kensington home. George had spotted the ring gracing my hand in mere seconds. His face had gone all sorts of pale; shocked pale, disbelieving pale, my boss has lost his mind pale. Then Matt had said: ‘Aren't you going to congratulate us, George?'
Poor George. His stammered congratulations were far from his usual poise. And the ease between us had become quite awkward that day. So much so, I had decided to spend the rest of the weekend at my place. Which raised another problem. Matt wanted me to move in with him at once. I didn't want to. I liked my own space. Plus my house was much closer to my place of work. Moving in with Matt wasn't high on my agenda and when I mentioned that he'd gone all silent before notifying me it was inevitable as we would be living there once we were married and it was best to speed up the process by moving in immediately. I hadn't really thought about the ins and outs of being engaged. It was still unbelievable that we had reach this stage in our relationship in such a short space of time. But Matt was a man who saw what he wanted and took it.
And it seemed he wanted me. I grinned at my reflection. Forget the Royal family, I had my own prince.
"First of December, people!" Liam shouted as he walked into the fishbowl with a furrow between his brow. "Two weeks before opening night. I want things perfect. Sublime. I want those bastards to see our greatness on the stage. They will weep with joy over our production. They will line the streets shouting our names. We will be great."
Dante and I exchanged a glance. Liam always got a bit dramatic when it came to opening night. He was a theatrical being. A tall, lanky being who had once again misplaced the office phone. I should start charging him for its use.
"Mental." Bri muttered under her breath.
Soon enough everyone who needed to be in had arrived and we focused on getting things right. Unfortunately the lights above the stage were being redone today hence our use of the fishbowl.
"Madi," Gloria opened the door and gestured to me. "You've got a call."
My heart jumped into my throat. Every time my cell beeped, or the house phone rang, I would get this flutter of hope intermingled with dread. Hope that it was my Aunt, and dread that it was indeed my Aunt. I was a conflicted person at the moment.
"Who is it?" I asked once I shut the door behind me and followed her down the hall way.
Gloria tittered and shot me this girly look over her shoulder. "That man of yours."
"What?" I stopped, folding my arms across my chest before spinning on my heels. "Tell him I'm busy."
"I did!" She grabbed my arm. "But he ordered me to get you and,"
I arched an eyebrow at her.
"He's so commanding, Madi. I couldn't tell him no. He's a billionaire for Christ's sakes!"
I grunted something unintelligent under my breath and started back in the direction of my office with a relieved Gloria at my side.
"Line 2," she said as I opened my office door. "And I've called the police about those reporters out front. Hopefully they'll send someone to shoo them away."
I waved her off and strode over to my messy desk. "Of all the-" I had forgotten the handset was missing. I hurried out my office to the reception area and grabbed up the phone on Gloria's desk.
"Kind of busy today, Matt," Was my greeting.
"Hello, poppet," His deep voice was warm with affection and I tried to fight my smile. "And I know you're busy, so am I, but we've been invited to dinner by my parents. I tried your mobile numerous times," There was a touch of reproach in his voice. He didn't like when I couldn't be reached.
"Matt-"
"Seven pm, so you'll need to leave work early today." he cut me off. "I'll send the car around to pick you up and we can meet at the restaurant. Hold a moment, poppet."
Music filled my ears. He'd put me on hold. The cheeky tyrant had put me on hold. He was lucky I loved him so much.
"Sorry about that, poppet," he said five minutes later. "Now where were we?"
"Dinner with your parents at 7," I replied.
"Yes, so I'll be leaving straight from the office as I'm swamped with work. I swear there aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done. And the bloody media! The last thing I wanted was for our engagement to be blasted across the papers before I'd even had the chance to share our news with my family. Hence this dinner invitation tonight."
My smile softened. I could picture him behind his desk. Jacket off and shirt sleeves rolled up as he and Adam ruled their empire from Central London.
"Poppet, I don't want you to be nervous about tonight," he suddenly said.
"I'm not," I said, it was the truth. I wasn't nervous, I was way past nervous. Scared shitless and envisioning a scene where Matt's mom tossed a drink in my face while calling me a gold-digging hussy. Of course, that would never happen. Portia Bradley oozed upper class superiority, creating a scene in public would be beneath the likes of her.
"Hmm, I don't believe you, poppet," Matt mused. I stopped picturing the drink in my face and focus on the most pressing problem about the pending dinner.
"What shall I wear, Matt?"
"I'm sure whatever you wear will be nice, poppet," Matt replied. I could tell he was only half paying attention to me now and the muffled sound of someone talking in the background could be heard from his side.
"Matt, I want to make a good second impression, wait this will be the" I recalled the number of times I'd seen Matt's parents. "Third time I'm meeting them. I want to make a good 3rd impression."
"Anything you wear will be fine, poppet. Look, I must dash. Love you and see you at seven."
I held the phone against my ear, listening to that dial tone. Ah. He was so lucky I loved him the way I did. I put the phone back in its cradle, smiled tightly at Gloria who was trying to act like she hadn't been eavesdropping on my conversation, then hurried away. I would worry about dinner later, right now I needed to dance my toes off.
Dante wasn't pleased with me leaving at 5:30, neither was I. We had so much to do and so little time. At least we were sold out. Silver lining and all that. Dante had also repaid Geoffrey while I was home, I mean, New York. I had to stop thinking of it as home. Home was synonymous with family and I was now an outcast. I consoled myself with the fact it hadn't even been a full week since the blow-out. Maybe Aunt Cleo would forgive me and call. I had sent Jenny that cheque, that had to give me some sort of edge. I let out a bitter laugh as I walked towards my vehicle, ignoring the flurry of activity at the front gates. The police hadn't come as per Gloria's request. It seemed being hounded by the press wasn't a crime. They told her unless a danger was being posed and they were off private property, there was nothing they could do. I made sure the doors were locked once I got behind the wheel then pulled out of the parking lot, beeping my horn furiously when some fool of a man placed himself in front the Cayenne. That stall in the vehicle's movement was enough for the others to swarm around. Flashing lights and shouted questions assailed me. I sighed and pressed the horn again. I did not need this crap. I revved, giving the man a death stare through the windscreen. If it was his wish to be mowed down by a SUV I would certainly grant it. He had five more seconds. I revved the engine again and he must have finally noticed the crazed look on my face because he jumped aside, allowing me the chance to escape with a screech of wheels. They would eventually give up. Right?
Half an hour later I parked in front my house and hurried inside with my stuff. I was sweaty, my hair needed a wash, I had no idea what to wear...I really didn't want to have dinner with Matt's parents. Every time his mom looked at me I felt like something she'd scraped off her shoe. All thoughts of wowing them had flown out the window after dinner at their place those months ago. At least at a restaurant the chances of me humiliating myself were slim. When the knock on my front door came I was ready, just barely, and my hair although pulled back into a neat side bun, was still damp. I grabbed my purse up and headed out the front door.
A growl of annoyance left my mouth at the limo parked across the street. The driver was already hurrying in front of me to reach the door vehicle's before I could. My choice of outfit was a no brainer. I had no idea where we were having dinner tonight and I couldn't go wrong with a black cocktail dress. The blue silk scarf knotted around my neck was the only splash of colour on my body. Oh wait, the massive red diamond on my left hand added some colour. I nervously fiddled with the pearl studs in my ear.
"Do you know where we're heading?" I asked the driver through the open partition. Ignoring my inner voice saying: of course he does, you fool, he's driving you there!
"Yes, Ms DuMont," he answered jovially, catching my eyes in the mirror. "It's Sketch in Mayfair."
I chewed my glossy lips. "I've never been there before. What type of restaurant is it?"
"French," The driver supplied. "Some big name Frenchie with too many Michelin stars founded it. If you ask me our home grown lads are just as good. You want to buckle up, Ms DuMont? That's a French sounding name. Are you French?"
"No, ah, no, I'm English," I replied, wondering how much conversation I should have with the man. Matt was quite a stickler for propriety when it came to things like these.
"English?" he barked out as the limo lurched into motion. I buckled up quickly. "You don't sound English. Sound more like a yank to me."
"Ah, well I grew up in the States," I volunteered.
The man gave me a teasing grin. "I'm just joshing you, Ms DuMont. I know who you are. You're Mr Bradley's bird. Read about you two in the papers today."
"Ok." I said. Maybe I should press the button to close the partition. Where was the button?
"Told my Missus I was driving you tonight and she went all excited. Wanting me to ask you all sorts of questions," He sent me a quick glance in the mirror again. "But I told her I'm a professional driver and we don't question the people we're driving around."
Where was it? Damn button, hiding from me.
"I've been doing this for about ten years now. Driving rich people about-"
"I'm not rich." I responded without thinking.
"Oh don't worry about it. You're all set to marry Mr Bradley, right? Like I said, I read about you two in the papers today. And he's as minted as they come."
Oh crap. This was definitely not the accepted passenger/driver conversation to be having.
"But you're a normal bird," he mused. "I can tell from one look at you. No airs and graces at all. Ha. I'm sure you go to your local on a Friday night with your friends."
"Ah, not anymore," I replied. Didn't want him thinking I was down the pub every Friday. "I'm too busy nowadays." Oh double dose of crap. He was drawing me in. What if he was recording this conversation? What if he had a secret camera installed in the back here that just caught me fixing my bra strap? Where was that button?
"Well, you seem to be nice. Those things they're writing about you on the internet, humph, bunch of trolls if you ask me. It's easy for someone to comment on something that doesn't concern them from behind a screen. Let them say that to your face and I'm sure Mr Bradley will sort them out."
Ok. This was getting too familiar. Button, button, where art thou? Shouldn't it be on a console? Oh there it was. Now I knew where the button was I felt too guilty to press it. I didn't want to hurt his feelings.
"So are you from London?" I asked. It was better if we spoke about him and not me.
"I'm from the Isle of Wight." he said proudly.
"Oh, that's nice."
"I don't live there anymore, mind you. Met the Missus 20 years ago and that was that. I try to go back a few times each year but my Missus is a London girl. Won't go too far or she'll break out in hives," he laughed loudly. "At least that's what she tells me."
I laughed politely with him. If Matt was here he would've cleared his throat to show his displeasure then wound the partition up. Hell, if Matt was here I doubted the driver would've been this friendly.
So for the whole drive to Mayfair my finger hovered above the button but the partition never got raised. When we arrived, he opened my door and smiled at me. I glanced up at the building.
"Ah, is it-"
"The Lecture Room & Library, Ms DuMont." he advised as I gripped my purse and walked towards a night of tension with my future-in-laws. Oh my god. That sounded so weird in my head. In-laws. I was going to have in-laws. Oh shit. I was engaged. I glanced at my engagement ring, checking it was still there. The staircase leading up to the restaurant was very impressive and I felt a bit disappointed it was too dark outside to see the natural light pouring through the glass ceiling dome. Maybe Matt and I could come here sometime in the future.
The suit and tie man guarding the way into the restaurant looked me up and down, subtly of course, but I caught it. I straightened my spine even more.
"Reservation?" he asked politely.
I couldn't go wrong with the answer. All the people at dinner tonight had the same last name, bar me. Oh shit. Matt wanted me to take his name. I wasn't too sure about that.
"Bradley." I replied coolly.
"Of course," he said waving someone over. "I'll have someone show you to your table."
I smiled at him and tried to will my body to stop sweating. Matt would be here and he wouldn't let his parents badger me. He would definitely stop his mom from throwing a drink in my face if she had a momentary lapse of cultured behaviour.
Another suit and tie man led me to the table and I started sweating in earnest as I saw Matt's parents but didn't see my knight. Was he in the men's room?
I flashed them my Colgate smile, the one I only brought out for special occasions.
"Hello, Mr and Mrs Bradley," I murmured as suit and tie no.2 pulled my chair out and scooted me in when I partially sat down. I hated that in restaurants. It was so awkward. You had to hover above the chair while they pushed it forward and it always banged your knees.
"Madison," William Jnr greeted while Portia's gaze was fixed on the ring I wore.
"Has Matt not arrived as yet?" I asked, shooting quick glances around. Please let him be in the washroom.
"No," William Jnr said, confirming my worst fear. "Unfortunately he has not."
"Oh," I said then promptly fell silent. Matt's mom still had to address me verbally.
"Would you like to order a drink?" A female waiter suddenly appeared from behind with a bright dazzler on her mouth.
"Ah, yes, can I have a-" The list of respectable drinks flashed before my eyes but I heard the words, "Whiskey, please." come out instead.
Portia's gaze hardened while William Jnr gave me a surprised look, begrudging surprise. Was he a whiskey drinker too? Did we have something in common besides our mutual love for his youngest son?
When my whiskey was delivered to the table, it was intense self-control which allowed me to take a dainty sip instead of downing it in one. I would make Matt suffer for this.
"Let us deal with the elephant in the room, shall we?" Portia began in a silky voice. "It appears our son has proposed to you."
I managed a feeble smile and nodded before taking a larger sip of my whiskey. Damn you, Matt, wherever you are, damn you!
"I do not think you are a fool, Madison," she said coldly. "You are fully aware that my husband and I are not pleased with the relationship between you and our son."
I took another gulp. This was the most she'd ever spoken to me. I wished I hadn't been so eager to have her speak to me before.
"Matt and I love each other," I said. Why did my voice sound so timid? Why didn't I just say: fuck off, blondie. Your son loves this chocolate sundae.
"I'm sure he loves you in his own special way," she said. The way she said it made me feel like a tart, as Gloria would say. Tart. Maybe I should feel like a pastry instead of a slut.
"And I'm certain you love his financial worth," she continued. My eyes widened in disbelief. She had said it. She had just thrown it out there. What next?
"Then you would be mistaken, Mrs Bradley. Matt's wealth has nothing to do with the way I feel about him."
Portia looked at her husband, as if passing the ball. When he opened his mouth I knew the ball had indeed been passed.
"You must understand why we would be concerned, Madison," William Jnr said, he was going for the fatherly tone. "Put yourself in our position. Many people see us as meal tickets, many try to insinuate themselves into our lives with hopes of monetary gain. Now, our Matthew is a clever man,"
"Very intelligent," I agreed. My face was flaming. I wasn't sure if it was just anger or whether I had tipped over the line into fury.
"He is also very cunning," William Jnr continued. "I'm not sure if he's mentioned this but we had been placing undue pressure on him to settle down and we believe," Here he shared a glance with his wife then turned back to me. "We believe that your relationship is simply a method for Matt to get his point across."
My whiskey tumbler was empty. I'd been sipping quickly while Matt's dad spoke. "And what point would that be, Mr Bradley?"
"That he won't tolerate our interference in his life on this issue," Portia said.
"I see." I replied in a quiet voice.
"Do you?" she asked. "I feel terrible that Matt is using you to get his point across. It is quite distasteful to be honest. Flaunting you as his prospective wife when we all know that he has no intention of going through with it is embarrassing for us. He is simply using you to remind us that he will not be forced into something which he feels he's not yet ready for."
"I love your son." I said, motioning to another waiter that I needed another drink. Hell, I needed a lot more drinks.
"If you truly loved him you would not be going along with this farce." Portia said in a hard voice. "If you truly loved him you would know that there is no place for you in his world. If you felt any true emotion other than greed for my son's wealth you would see that being with you will only tarnish his standing-"
"Why?" I interrupted. "Because I'm black and he's not?"
Portia tilted her head, cold blue eyes travelling over me. "That is not the main reason but it is a factor. It is because you are not of our social background. You do not possess the gentility nor the intelligence to fit in the life of my son."
"Portia," William Jnr called quietly and she paused for a moment.
I needed that pause. It was a godsend. That pause allowed me to breathe, to control my facial expression. That pause gave me a moment to think. She thought I was dumb too? I had a MFA, it was hard to study and dance but I had done it.
"What my wife is trying to say," William Jnr started politely.
"I'm not good enough for your son, I get it," I said quickly, stopping when the waiter came with another drink for me. He took the empty glass away and I smiled thank you.
"He does not love you," Portia said once we were alone again. "At least not in the way you believe. You are a diversion for him, a novelty, someone to be used to make his point known. I am sorry if you find my comments too direct but I have to speak my mind concerning this intolerable situation. I want what's best for my son and you are not it."
I picked up the tumbler and downed the whiskey in one. I needed the burn to warm my cold insides.
"Matt wants to be with me," I said once the blazing fire in my throat had slowed to a low burn. "And I think once he arrives he can explain exactly how much we mean to each other."
His mother did not like what I said. Her cold blue eyes went artic. "You mean nothing more than carnal pleasure to my son. I tell you this not to be hurtful, but to save yourself the embarrassment once Matthew calls an end to this relationship of yours. Can you not see he's doing it solely to retaliate for the pressure we've placed upon him to settle down?"
I gestured to the waiter again before answering. William Jnr arched an eyebrow. Just like Matt would. "Maybe he's doing exactly what you wanted, settling down, that is; and I'm the person he wants to do it with."
There. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mrs-Artic-Eyes-who-pushed-my-knight-out-her-lady-bits-37-years-ago. Whoo. That was a long one.
The waiter came over again with a fresh tumbler. I raised it to my lips then caught a glimpse of Matt from the corner of my eye. I put the glass down and twisted in my seat to watch him stride confidently towards the table.
"Mum, Dad," He patted his father on the back and kissed his mother's cheek before coming over to take the seat next to me. "Apologies for my lateness, something came up at the office." Then he leaned over and tongued me in front his parents. When we came up for air, he winked at me and said, "Sorry I'm late, poppet."
"It's ok," I murmured, noting his mother's stony expression as I let my hands fall to my lap. "Your parents and I were just getting to know each other."
"Well that's lovely," Matt said with a dazzling smile as he beckoned a waiter over. "Bring me some Macallan whiskey and the menus."
"1964, Sir?" The waiter asked eagerly.
Before Matt could nod I spoke up. "No. Just bring him what I'm drinking, please."
"Poppet," Matt groused.
I gave him a disgusted look. "That's a £12000 bottle of whiskey, Matt. Don't be ridiculous."
His mouth curled into a slow smile. "How do you know that?"
"I like my whiskey, Matt." I replied and with a tight smile in his parents' direction I raised my glass in salute and downed it in one.
"Ah," Matt eyed me. "Is that your first?"
"Third." His father supplied with an eyebrow arched. Matt's own eyebrow popped up. Like father, like son.
"Ah, I see." Matt said, giving me questioning eyes. I looked away and let my hands fall to my lap once more. This sucked ass. His parents were never going to accept me. Why the fuck had I let this get so far? I remembered the morning after we'd slept together for the first time. I had told myself it was all going to end in tears. Being the fool, I hadn't listened to my inner voice. I had swirled for too long and gotten addicted to my knight. It was all going to end in tears. Forget the flawless diamond on my finger, forget his fiery admissions of love; I'd lost my family to this drama. One family was enough. As strong-willed as Matt was, I knew being ostracized from his family would hurt him deeply. I sighed and looked at Matt. He was watching me, well watching my hands actually; intently. I glanced down at my hands and stilled them.
Matt looked up at me and frowned. Then he turned his head in his parents' direction and asked casually, "So, what have you three discussed in my absence?"
"Inconsequential things," Portia breathed out, sending Matt a beatific motherly smile. Matt looked at me, questioning it, and I nodded with a small smile. Yes, in their eyes I was inconsequential. I was tired of this, tired of it all. Was this what the future held in store for us? At war with our families because we loved each other? I had read Shakespeare. A lot of Shakespeare and I was not going out like Julliet did! Star crossed lovers, my ass.
A menu got held in front of me and I took it, conscious of the gleaming jewel on my finger.
"What strikes your fancy, poppet?" Matt asked, pulling his chair closer and slinging an arm around the back of mine as he peered at the menu in my hands. His own menu laid unopened on the table. He was so close I could feel the rush of air over my cheek as he breathed. I twisted my head to give him a ‘personal space, respect it' look, but I got sucked into those piercing eyes of his. Marvelling at the almost there gold flecks around his irises.
"I don't know," I murmured, unconsciously licking my lower lip as Matt's gaze fell to my mouth.
The forced sound of his father clearing his throat broke us from the sizzling eye sexing session. I inhaled deeply and turned back to the menu. Matt's hand stroked my shoulder lightly.
"Shall I order for you then?" he murmured, deliberately ignoring his parents as he focused all his attention on me.
I nodded wordlessly and tried to smile. His eyes were demanding that I smile.
The sommelier suddenly appeared at our table as we decided what to have. Matt and his father immediately conversed in fluent French with the man, who approved of their knowledge of either their use of his native language or the wines. And just to make me feel like the odd one out, I'm sure, Portia joined in their conversation. Great. Why hadn't I done languages? Now I looked even dumber. I fiddled with the lace napkin while the four of them chatted. Once the food and wine had been ordered the sommelier gave us a little bow and whizzed off.
"Such a delightful man," Portia said with a smile. Turning her face at me she asked. "Do you not speak French, Madison?"
I smiled coolly. "I know what is required for ballet terms, but not enough to converse with such fluency, Mrs Bradley. I can speak some Spanish though."
Matt joined in with a playful, "Come now, poppet. Mrs Bradley? That's a terribly formal way to address the woman who's going to be your mother-in-law," Matt shot his mother a challenging grin. "Soon. By the way, you have yet to congratulate me on our exciting news." Matt cocked his head at me, gaze swivelling between his parents and myself. "Did they congratulate you, poppet?"
"Um, something like that," I hedged. This was bullshit. I felt as if Matt was using our engagement to bait his parents.
"Matthew speaks several languages," Portia said. If she was trying to point out our differences she was doing a damn good job. "Such a clever boy, my Matthew."
"Mum," Matt groaned with embarrassment that all grown children feel when their parents go into super proud mode.
"Oh, hush, darling," She waved his embarrassment away with a graceful flick of her own blingified hand. "You know how proud Dad and I are of you."
I smiled at him. He was embarrassed, it was cute.
"Your parents died when you were a child, yes?" Portia asked, blue eyes trained on my face. I nodded soundlessly. Matt was peering at his mother in disbelief.
"Such a tragedy." she murmured sympathetically. "And your father's sister took you in, yes?"
I nodded again. Had they done a background check on me too? Of course they would have!
"It must have been hard, growing up without your parents," she mused.
I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. Oh god. This was going to be a showdown at noon sort of night. Just like with Grumps. I was going to be riddled with Bradley bullets. The tumbleweeds would be rolling through my spilt blood soon.
Matt's hand landed on my knee and he squeezed lightly. Oh good, tonight I had a Kevlar suit and his name was Matt. If anyone could protect me from a Bradley verbal whup ass, it would be Matt. He was spawned from these people, he would know how to deal with them.
"How have you found living in England, Madison?" William Jnr asked. "It must be quite a change to New York."
"It did take some adjustment," I replied politely while flashing him a tiny smile. "Driving on a roundabout took some getting used to."
Matt chuckled under his breath and patted my knee.
"And you've been here almost four years now?" William Jnr queried.
"Yes, it's coming up to that time frame." I confirmed with a nod.
"And how is your dance company?" Portia asked coolly. "My daughter mentioned something about an upcoming production."
"Yes," Matt answered before I could. "Opening night is on the 15th of this month and tickets are sold out but I'm sure Madi can arrange some seats for you both if you'd like to attend."
His parents murmured something about prior engagements and I checked the urge to roll my eyes. This was such bullshit. But I could play the game too. I could be unfailing polite and act as if they hadn't, not a mere twenty minutes ago, said I was nothing more than a pawn in their son's defiance of their wishes. An unintelligent pawn according to Portia Bradley.
"Poppet," Matt called quietly and I forced a smile on my face and looked over at him. He didn't return my smile, gaze continuously sliding between my face and my hands on my lap. What was it with my hands he found so fascinating? I stopped scratching my pinkie and arched my eyebrow in query.
"The 15th?" William Jnr asked abruptly. "Aren't you and your brother due to travel on that date, Matthew? I'm sure, if I recall correctly, that's when you fly to Russia."
Matt grimaced at his father. "It's the 14th, Dad." Then shot me a remorseful half a smile as my mouth parted in disappointment.
"So you won't be here for opening night?" I asked the obvious.
Matt shook his head. "Unfortunately not."
I swallowed my disappointment and tried to affect a relaxed facial expression. So what if he couldn't make it for opening night? I licked my lips as I asked another question. "How long will you and Adam be away for, Matt?"
"We're not certain at this point, Madi," he advised, still with that apologetic shine to his eyes. "Perhaps a week, maybe more."
"But you will both be back for Christmas," Portia stated firmly.
Matt glanced at his mother as his father reproached her gently. "Portia, darling, business comes first. Ah, look, here comes the food."
Our starters were indeed being brought over. I tried my best not to dwell on the upsetting news of Matt's upcoming business trip. Why hadn't he mentioned it to me before? As my lobster starter got placed in front me another worrying thought flitted through my mind. What about Christmas? How was that going to be addressed? If he returned in time for the festive holiday would he want to spend it with me? Or would he have to spend it with his family, like he did on his birthday? I doubted I would get an invitation, going off his parents' behaviour with me. But I was his fiancée now. Knowing Matt, he would most likely force the issue and cause some family drama. I didn't want that. Oh why was he going away on opening night? This was important to me and I wanted him to be there.
"Is the lobster not to your liking?" Matt asked, drawing me from my silent musings.
"It's lovely," I murmured. Looking over at him revealed the concern on his handsome face and I felt churlish for my previous thought. Matt had responsibilities and I figured my career didn't factor very high in his mind. It hurt thinking that way but I had to be a realist. Never mind I always made myself available whenever he needed me at his side for whatever function he was forced to attend. Never mind - I stopped that resentful train of thought at once.
"Let me try some then," he teased, eyeing my plate.
"One bite," I warned, scooping a morsel of the sweet lobster meat on my fork and carefully manoeuvring it into his waiting mouth.
"Matthew." Portia said with distaste etched on her face. "Please remember your manners."
Matt swallowed then arched an eyebrow at his mother. "Calm down, Mum. It's not as if I'm eating food off her naked body, just her fork." Matt looked at me out the corner of his eyes, a devious smirk curling up his mouth. Shit. He was thinking about doing it now, probably planning something that involved food, me and a mess.
"Matt!" I hissed in embarrassment right as his mother's cheeks flushed bright red and she said tartly, "Matthew!"
His father just shook his head, but I swore he was fighting a knowing grin.
"What?" Matt asked innocently as he resumed eating his starter. I knew my knight and I knew he was needling his mother on purpose. Damn, damn, damn. Were they right? Was he with me out of some perverse attempt to make a point to his parents? I would rip his balls out then feed them to him if that was the case!
"So, Madison," William Jnr began politely. "How are you dealing with the press? Being with my son has propelled you into the spotlight, put you under media scrutiny-"
"She's handling it just fine, Dad." Matt interrupted tightly.
"She can answer for herself." I chastised Matt with a little shake of my head before looking across the table at his father. "It's difficult sometimes, Mr Bradley, the unwanted intrusion into my personal life is not easy to deal with," I shot Matt a rueful grin. "But Matt is usually able to make me feel better about the whole situation."
Matt leaned back in his chair and blinked at me a couple of times before mouthing ‘love you'. The surprised tenderness on his face was heart-warming as I knew, and he knew, the media problem was driving me mad. I turned back to his parents and smiled defiantly at them both. Ha. Matt loved me. They could kiss my black ass.
"Yes, well, it will only get worse," Portia said in warning as she levelled Matt with a sternness only a mother could bestow on her child. Or an aunt on her niece. Auntie Cleo, why hadn't she called? I knew she was furious with me but-
"Madison can handle it." Matt reiterated firmly, breaking me from my thoughts. I smiled again and chewed my lobster.
Dinner progressed too slowly for my liking. It was strained and it got to the stage where I could only manage monosyllabic answers to the questions posed to me by Matt's parents. Their polite interaction with me in front of Matt was grating on my nerves and I desperately wanted to shout out what hypocrites they were, but I held my tongue. Matt was also getting frustrated. I knew this from the small arch of his left eyebrow. And his frustration was being directed at me. It was obvious I didn't want to be there.
"Please excuse me," I said right before we chose dessert. "I'll be back shortly."
All three Bradleys nodded in acknowledgement as I quickly got up and went in search of the washrooms. Relieving my bladder was not a necessity, I just wanted 5 minutes away from that table and its occupants. How could they sit there and act so - so - so damned normal?! This was what I despised the most about being with Matt. The duplicitous nature that seemed the norm with everyone I had encountered was wearing on me. I should have called them on it, in front of Matt! I should have looked his parents in the eye and demanded an apology for what they'd said. I should...just grin and bear it.
Family. God, please show me how to make them like me. I pulled my cell out my clutch and called Dante.
"What's up, sweet cheeks?" He said in lieu of hello.
"D, I'm at a stupid dinner with Matt and his parents. They don't like me."
"Ok," Dante said.
"Ok?" I repeated in disbelief. The hell? "What do you mean ‘ok'? Aren't you listening to me? His parents don't like me. They think I'm just a-"
"Madi," Dante interrupted. "You knew what you were getting into when you hooked up with him. Look, the man asked you to marry him. It's clear he wants to be with you, so forget about his parents. Why do you need everyone to adore you? You've been that way since we were kids."
"Wow," I muttered, glaring at my reflection. "Some best friend you are."
Dante chuckled. "Suck it up, sweet cheeks. Go schmooze with some rich folks."
"Dante," I paused, inhaling deeply before continuing. "Do you think I'm making a mistake?"
"Honestly?" he asked.
"Yes, you always tell it to me straight. Am I making a mistake?"
"I think you might be rushing into this, Madi. I mean, come on! You haven't even reached the 12 months marker in your relationship. You had this massive blow out with your family and two minutes after that you're engaged? That's kind of...I just think you're rushing it."
"It wasn't two minutes after," I groused.
Dante sighed loudly. "Sweet cheeks, you know what I mean. Look, we'll talk about this tomorrow ok? How about I stay over at yours tomorrow and we can talk about this properly?"
"Huh," I scoffed. "You just want me to cook you dinner."
"Damn straight. It's been ages since you cooked for me." he replied quickly.
I laughed at his whining then stopped abruptly as the door to the ladies opened and Matt walked in. What on earth was wrong with my man?
"Uh, D, I'll see you in the morning. Gotta go." I hung up the call and started in on Matt immediately. "Are you insane? This is the ladies! What if someone catches you in here?"
Matt shrugged and folded his arms. Eyes quickly scanning the open stalls to confirm we were alone. "Talk."
"About what?" I asked, hurrying over to him. Crazy ass gazillionaire.
"Why are you acting so standoffish with my parents?"
My eyes widened with disbelief. He was calling me standoffish? Of all the things under the sun to say.
"They don't like me, Matt."
"Don't say that, poppet. They're trying to get to know you and you're not being receptive to their attempts. You've barely spoken to them."
My eyes widened further. "That's because," I stopped, biting my lower lip before I blurted out what had transpired prior to his arrival at the restaurant.
But it was too late and his grey eyes narrowed. Matt scrutinized my face for a long moment while I glanced nervously at the door. What if someone walked in? Would we get into trouble with the management? Would we be asked to leave the premises at once?
"Because what?" Matt asked in a low tone. It was his ‘you'd better spill or there'll be hell to pay' voice.
"I'm just nervous." I brushed it away. "I'll try harder. I promise."
Sacrifice. That was what you did in a relationship. You sacrificed whatever was needed to ensure your partner was happy. Right? But would you end up sacrificing so much that there was nothing of you left to give? Had I already sacrificed too much?
Matt unfolded his arms, one hand rising up to rub his chin slowly as he kept those piercing eyes of his on my face. "What did they say to you?"
"Pardon?" I feigned confusion. I was definitely going to sign up for some acting classes. As soon as things quietened down at the studio I was getting some classes.
"You're not usually this quiet, poppet, even less so when you're nervous. You babble when you're nervous."
"I do not." I retorted. "That's a slanderous thing to say. I converse clearly and-" I stopped at the eloquent look on his face. Shit. I was babbling now.
"Tell me." he commanded. "What's wrong?"
My shoulders drooped. "They don't like me, Matt, and I doubt there's anything you or I could say to change how they feel about us being together. Look, I'm not comfortable with you being in here. Someone might come in any second."
"Did they say something to you, poppet?" he asked again. "No secrets between us. Remember?"
I sighed and slipped my cell back into my clutch. Then raised my head to gaze into his eyes. "Your parents are under the impression that I'm a pawn in some elaborate game you're playing to get them off your back about settling down." I licked my lips, uncertain about his reaction "Is that true? They said they were pressuring you to get married and you're using me...I just don't know what to think, Matt!"
Matt's features were as hard as granite. He looked angry and this was exactly why I didn't want to tell him.
"Don't go out there and cause an argument," I pleaded. "Please. I don't want you fighting with your family. That's the last thing I want. It's bad enough my fam-" I paused, willing the instantaneous rush of pain away. The words traitor and ungrateful jumped before my eyes and my mind put them into the correct order. I felt like an ungrateful traitor.
I moved to brush past Matt and he held my arm. His other hand cupped my cheek gently. I leaned into the feel of his touch against my skin.
"I'm not going to fight with them, Madi, but I want you to understand something for once and for all. You walked away from all that you've known, from the only family you have left, for me," Matt lowered his head to press a soft kiss over my lips then pulled back, his thumb stroking lightly across my cheekbone. "Do you honestly believe I wouldn't do the same for you?"
I blinked a few times as he waited for me to respond. Would he? Give up his family if forced to? I didn't know and I really didn't want to find out.
Matt peered at me. "Answer me, poppet. Do you think I would do any less than you if placed in the same situation? Do you think our love is worth less to me than it is to you?"
"I don't know." I answered truthfully. "I don't know, Matt, but we don't need to find out. I'm not asking you to choose, I would never ask you to do that. I'll find some way to make them accept me." I forced a bright smile to my lips. "You always say no one can resist me. It's just taking a bit longer than expected."
"Listen to me closely, young lady," he said in a deep, stern voice. "Because I am only going to say this once. There is no choice. You're mine and that will never change. There is no choice to be made because the decision was out of my hands the moment you stormed back into the pub after that little scene where you told me to eat shit and die, then called me a pompous old racist in public."
I grinned at the memory. I had been livid that day.
Matt continued. "I knew then, well, my heart knew then that you were it for me. You're all I want, poppet, and it's tiring having to remind you of this. Trust in me, trust in us."
"What if they disown you?" I asked quietly.
Matt arched an amused eyebrow at me. "Ah, so you're worried about my financial status. Hmm, would you not love me if I was poor?" he teased.
"Shut up." I mumbled before watching him intently. "I don't care about the money, Matt. I just don't want you to be ostracized from your family."
"Like you are from yours?" he asked in a pointed manner. My chest got tight again. I was still holding out for a miraculous reconciliation. A week hadn't passed as yet.
"Yes," I agreed in a sad voice.
Matt kissed me again, arms encircling my waist as he held me up against the muscular lines of his body. "Oh poppet, you still have no idea of what you mean to me."
I didn't respond, it was my personal bliss being held by him like this. I didn't want to ruin it with words, or my silly doubts about us and our respective families. Aunt Cleo said he would throw me away when he was done using me. She was wrong. Matt's parents were wrong too. He was more than my knight, he was my soul mate and Aunt Cleo had always taught us to be grateful of God's blessings. Matt was my blessing, he filled the gaping hole of emptiness inside me. It was corny but he completed me.
"Do you want to go home, poppet?" he asked, rubbing a hand over my lower back. I nodded against his jacket, inhaling his comforting scent. He stepped back but maintained a one armed hold around my waist and we exited the washroom. There was a member of staff right outside the door. Matt nodded once to the man who scurried away without a backward glance.
"Was he-"
"Keeping guard, yes." Matt confirmed smoothly. "I didn't care for any interruptions."
"You are the strangest man I've ever known." I said.
"Sweetest." he countered as he led us out into the dining area.
"You're not sweet, Matt, you're," I paused, trying to find the best word to describe all that he was.
"If you say bossy, I'll put you over my knee and spank you as soon as we get home." he warned with a serious glint in his eyes.
Whoa. That was a bit kinky, but hey. I'd try anything with him, once, that is. Oh wait, except for bum sex, that was never happening. And threesomes, orgies, whatever; those weren't going to happen either. I was sure I had read something about Matt that implied...well, it wasn't going to happen. I sent him a sidelong glance. He was so possessive of me, downright jealous of any male attention directed at me. Nope, I didn't have to worry about orgies.
"I was going to say unique," I replied.
Matt gave me a lopsided grin that disappeared as we approached our table. He regarded his parents coolly before saying, "Madi and I are leaving now."
William Jnr half rose from his chair. "Why? Is something the matter, son?"
"Not at all," Matt said smoothly. "We can arrange another get together when you two decide you truly want to build a relationship with my fiancée, until then I refuse to subject Madi to your unwarranted disapproval." He glanced between them. "The sooner you accept her, the better it will be for everyone."
"Matthew," Portia hissed under her breath. "Don't speak to us in such a manner."
I fidgeted next to Matt, my face warming with embarrassment. He felt my nervous movements and tightened his hold around my waist as he said, "Mum, you know I adore you both, but I need you to understand Madi is going to be my wife and there's nothing you can do about it. She is not a pawn and I am not playing any games. You are mistaken if you hold that belief."
Portia's face reddened before she sent me an accusatory look. What? She should know what her son was like. Matt was like a psychic when it came to reading people. He had used his Vulcan powers to make me spill.
William Jnr cleared his throat. "Son, let's just finish our meal-"
"No, Dad," Matt said resolutely. "I had hoped your invitation tonight meant you were open to learning about the woman I love but I can see it was nothing more than cursory attempt to fool me into believing you were willing to extend an olive branch to us after months of you ignoring Madi. I'm your son, you should be happy for me instead of trying to make her feel uncomfortable."
They both looked up at us. Matt sighed under his breath before twisting his head sideways at me. "Say goodnight to my parents, poppet."
"Goodnight, Mr and Mrs Bradley." I did as ordered. When Matt got this way it was best to just go with his flow.
"Son," William Jnr called. "This is ridiculous. Sit down and let's finish our meal. We can discuss these issues at a more appropriate time and place."
"Good night, Dad." Matt said coldly before giving his mother a curt nod of goodbye. "Mum."
Then he turned us around and walked us towards the stairs. I looked back and saw Portia Bradley glaring ice daggers at me. It was official. My future mother-in-law hated me. I had no luck with maternal figures it seemed.
"Aren't you pleased with me, poppet?" Matt asked in a voice still warm with anger. "There was no argument."
"Ah, yes, Matt, but I hope you have your own money because my earnings can't keep you in the lifestyle you're accustomed to and you are going to be disowned for sure."
Matt chuckled as we went down the stairs. "They'll come around, poppet. They just need a firm hand."
I snorted in disbelief then tugged on his arm. Matt stopped, a step below me. I bent over to slant my lips across his, Frenching him as a reward for having my back with his parents.
"Thank you." I murmured when I pulled back.
"You won't be thanking me tomorrow when a picture of us snogging is in the morning papers."
"What?!" I cried out sharply.
Matt took my hand in his. "Poppet, I need to teach you how to spot the incognito media vultures that circle us. There are two, if not three actually, reporters here tonight. If it's any consolation, you look absolutely delicious in your dress."
"It's not a consolation." My eyes wandered around restlessly as we came down the remaining steps. Where were they? Damned paps. Everyone milling around looked normal to me. "Are you sure, Matt? You could be mistaken."
"I'm not and don't worry about it. I'll be speaking to Nathan's father about using his influence to protect our private lives, poppet. Now, are we heading to my place or yours? And you still haven't given me an answer on when you're moving in with me. I'm thinking before I fly away on business."
I ignored Matt and awkwardly tried to keep my head down while scanning for any flashes of light. If they put one more picture of me with my ass at an unfavourable angle I was going to sue someone.
<><>
Portia Bradley was silently fuming. She hadn't spoken one word on the trip from the restaurant to the hotel they were staying at tonight. Right now she wanted nothing more than to curl up in her own bed and lick her wounds. Matthew's continued defence of his supposed girlfriend was mind boggling. Fiancée, she reminded herself in a spurt of seething anger. He hadn't even notified them of his proposal! She, his mother, had to find out from her friend who had seen it on the early morning news. It was embarrassing, but Portia had quickly saved face by assuring her friend she was fully aware of her son's antics.
"Darling, would you like a drink before bed?" William asked as he sauntered into the bedroom.
"No, thank you." Portia replied, vigorously brushing her hair. For a woman in her sixties she knew she still looked good. Shame her husband didn't seem to appreciate her worth. The bastard. She eyed him from lowered lashes as he started undressing. The scratches over his back weren't as fresh today and she wondered who his new bed partner was. Probably someone as young as Matt's girlfriend, if not younger. He still looked good for his age too.
Fiancée, the silent reminder echoed through her fitful thoughts. She focused on the brush strokes, one after the other. William was a dutiful husband in all other areas, except their sex life. She snorted in disgust. At least he was discreet.
"Did you say something, my darling?" he murmured, coming over to stand behind her.
"No." Portia said as she moved away. William tried to wrap his arms around her waist but she was having none of it. "Really William, I'm not in the mood tonight." she reprimanded harshly.
William sighed and stepped away. He observed her for a moment before saying, "Darling we need to stop pushing Matthew on this issue. You know how stubborn our boy is-"
"Have you lost the faculties of your mind in your old age?!" she fumed, dropping the brush and placing her hands on her hips. The silk nightgown was light blue, William's favourite colour on her. It gave her perverse pleasure to taunt him with her body, a body he could no longer have at will. This was her way of punishing him, this and spending as much of his money as she chose.
"No, I haven't," he replied dryly. "I know our youngest son, Portia, and if we continue to treat his lady in the manner we have been doing, well, we'll only alienate him further. Is that what you want? To push him away as you did with Adam? It wasn't that long ago we were at odds with him, and I'm telling you now, I will not allow another estrangement between me and one of my sons."
Portia looked away. William knew exactly how to hurt her. Why was he bringing up that old problem? Adam was back in their good graces now. It was Matthew who was the problem. Oh why couldn't her sons be like their elder sister? A quick smile curled up her lips. Hannah was her pride, had married well and given them their beautiful granddaughters. She, like her brothers, had a brilliant mind. But like her mother, she had focused on her husband, her children; instead of furthering her career. That woman Matt was currently involved with didn't seem the type to sacrifice her own needs for his.
"I'm serious, Portia," William's hard voice broke her from her silent thoughts.
"So you expect me to accept her?" she asked incredulously. "To welcome her into our lives with open arms? You have lost your mind! Our son proposed to her! Do you want me to plan the wedding? Her family can ill-afford the cost of it. Do you want me to invite her-"
"Calm down," William bit out. "There's no need for dramatics. What I'm trying to get you to understand is that continuing to ignore Madison will get us nowhere. Of course, I don't agree with him marrying her! She's - she's not like us," He ran a frustrated hand over his face. "But the more we make our opinions of Matthew's relationship with her known, the more we push him away. Darling," William came over to her, sweeping a hand through her still thick blonde tresses. "We must act as if we're willing to at least attempt to accept her, to do anything else will force Matthew to make a choice...and we both know who he will choose at this point. His actions have been quite clear so far."
Portia exhaled in anger. What spell had that woman woven around her son? What was it about her that drew Matthew, a man so much like his philandering father, to her side? Why was he so infatuated with Madison DuMont?
"I just don't understand, William." she said, the agitation thick and heavy in her voice. "He can have anyone. Why her?"
William swept her hair over one shoulder and a bitter smile graced his face as he asked quietly, "Have you seen the way she looks at him, Portia? Have you truly paid attention to the way she watches our Matthew?"
"With greed, of course!" Portia exploded, pushing William aside as she begun to pace. "She sees her ticket to an easy life at the expense of our son!"
William shook his head slowly. "The way she looks at him...it reminds me of the way you once looked at me."
"What?! What do you mean by that?" Portia exclaimed, coming to a dead stop. "You dare compare me to that - that classless whore!"
"Firstly," William started in a low tone. "She's not a whore and never refer to her as such in Matthew's presence,"
"How can you say that?" Portia asked in distress.
"I overheard a conversation between Adam and Matthew a few months ago. I had gone into work to check up on things and they were in my office waiting for me. Adam was teasing Matthew, you know how our boys are," William waved a distracted hand through the air. "Anyway Matthew said something that led me to believe he was, ahem, that Madison was, well, suffice to say I think Matthew was her first."
"First what?" Portia asked blankly. William arched an eyebrow at her and understanding dawned. "Oh. Oh! No wonder he's so attached to her. You silly men! That's neither here, nor there. The fact is she's not right for our son and I refuse to stand by and do nothing."
"You will do nothing at this point, Portia. I refuse to risk a fall out with Matthew! You have no understanding of the way a man's mind works. A man would do just about anything to have a woman look at him the way Madison looks at our son. And do not get me started on his obvious affection for her. No, we will need to go about this carefully. It's clear they have some form of bond-"
"Yes and we both know what sort of bond that is!" she exploded nastily.
"Darling," William was once again trying to soothe her ire. "It will run its course. I know my son and this is a new adventure for him, give it time and he'll soon come to his senses, he'll soon see the differences between them are insurmountable."
"We don't have time, William. They're engaged." Portia resumed pacing. "All our friends are already gossiping about this whole situation behind our backs."
"Then they're not really our friends, are they? What is your main worry? The fact she's black-"
Portia grimaced before eyeing her husband coldly. "I am not a racist."
William raised an eyebrow again. "Neither am I, but we both know certain things are not acceptable."
Portia shot him a relieved look, the way he had been talking had caused her concern. It was good to know they were still on the same page. A shudder went through her. "What if she, god forbid, what if she gets pregnant? What then, William? And you know women like her have hordes of children. I will not have half-bla...ah, I refuse to have her babies calling me grandma!"
William chuckled and Portia glared at him.
"Matthew is not a fool, Portia, and he has said enough times that having children is the furthest thing from his mind. Do not worry about that. What we need to do is subtly remind him of his place in this world and the fact Madison DuMont is not a part of it. Ignoring her is not going to work, trust me. This isn't just a new experience for Matthew, it affects our whole family, we must be careful on how we approach it. Our children have always supported each other and this will be no different. Did you notice how attentive Hannah and Adam were to her at Nathan's engagement party?"
"Even the twins seem fond of her." Portia exhaled in anger.
"Exactly, we must apologize to her-"
"I beg your pardon?" Portia's mouth hung open in shock.
"Hush darling and listen to me." William chastised. "We apologize to her, we have no choice. Did you not hear Matthew's words before they left? It's obvious she relayed to him the conversation we had with her. So we apologize, invite her around to the house, we make an effort. That will appease our son."
"Then what?" Portia asked, voice dripping derision. "We pretend to play happy families? How is that going to help Matthew see sense?"
"All in due time," William said with complete confidence. "It will not be long before Madison herself finds it difficult to adjust to our way of life."
Portia frowned, then stopped, remembering the minute lines on her face and not wanting to exacerbate them.
"I don't know, Willie," she sighed, absentmindedly calling him by the nickname she'd given him all those years ago. She was the only one he allowed to address him as such.
"Don't worry, my darling. Come have a small drink with me, the hotel staff lit the fire before we arrived and it's pleasantly warm in front of it."
Portia saw the hope in his grey eyes, mingled with traces of desire. Although she loved him dearly, she would never again let him into her heart. He had broken the absolute faith she had in him as a young woman. He had broken her heart, and she would never let him regain a foothold in her emotions. She controlled how much affection would be given to him.
"I'm tired, darling," she murmured with a soft smile as she pressed a light kiss to his cheek. "I think I shall retire for the night."
William's eyes became shrouded as they stared silently at each other. Then he picked back up his shirt and shrugged it on.
"Perhaps I'll head out for a bit," he paused as he buttoned up his shirt. "Your company would be welcomed, darling."
Portia smiled at his poor attempt of reverse psychology. She knew why he was heading out, and she knew he didn't want her company. "Don't be silly. I'm all dressed for bed," She sauntered over to the king sized bed and pulled the covers back as she tossed dryly over her shoulders, "Besides, three's too much company, darling. I doubt your current mistress would appreciate the wife tagging along."
"Portia," he began and she turned to face him, expression frigid.
"What, William?" she asked emptily. When he remained silent she continued to mock him. "Tell her to be more gentle with you, darling, those scratches on your back looked painful."
William gave her a bitter smile. "Will do. Good night."
Portia turned quickly, before he could see the flash of hurt on her features. She wished he would leave already. She'd had enough of the men in her life.
"I don't blame Matthew for wanting her, you know," William said from the doorway. "As I said before, having a woman look at you the way Madison looks at him is no small thing. I envy him that, how sad am I?"
When Portia turned around he was gone. She sighed softly, moments later the sound of a door slamming echoed through the walls. She loved William Bradley, but she hated him too. Pushing thoughts of her toxic marriage aside she moved away from the bed and went in search of her mobile. Minutes later she called Louisa Gilliford. As a mother it was her responsibility to ensure her children made the right choices. She'd be damned if she let her youngest do something that he would regret for the rest of his life. The call picked up.
"Louisa, it's Portia. We need to have a chat."