Hannah and her crew wheeled in the second cake right before I escorted Jared and his father into their room. Both boys already had their official bar mitzvah at their temple, and, as if by divine proclamation, each boy held an air of importance, like the experience had elevated them.
My only comparison was when I’d gotten laid: my official induction into manhood.
But I understood their custom. My family had never been overtly religious, but my Roman Catholic grandmother, Irene, God rest her soul, had insisted that her grandchildren have exposure with the Church, even if we chose not to belong. To which my mother promptly exposed us to a variety of other religions, ensuring we were well aware of our choices.
In the end, neither Mom nor Dad went to church regularly or often, and none of us had ever been exposed to the Jewish religion, aside from a couple of friends at the club growing up. My learning curve for this double bar mitzvah had been a trail-by-fire, Google-aided endeavor. But the Stewarts had been eager to help whenever I stumbled or found a roadblock. Having helpful and understanding clients, who were invested in their kids’ happiness, made all the difference in a successful event.
As Hannah’s crew positioned the cake into the back next to the buffet, I gravitated toward this mysterious cake Hannah had teased me with. Catching flashes of sugar crystals in between Daniel and Chloe as they inched it safely onto its designated table, it wasn’t until I approached closer that I made out the theme of the cake.
Magnified into quadruple ordinary size, a regal black-and-silver chess set stood in cake form. As Daniel and Chloe wheeled the cart away, and Hannah inspected the cake for any needed last-minute repairs, I stepped behind her.
Needing closeness, but unable to sneak away with both parties revving up, I put my tablet down on the table beside the cake and slid my hands onto her hips, pulling her back into me—nothing lewd with kids and parents arriving, but enough to establish connection, possession.
She hummed a low note and leaned back against my chest, covering my hands with hers.
I bent my head down and brushed her hair back with my chin, sliding my lips across her jaw until I found her ear. My rumbled growl made her shiver. “I love the cake, Maestro. Reminds me of games we’ve played.”
My tone was illicit. While my mind meant the chess games I’d taught her to play, my body touching hers, behind hers, made me wish we could play all kinds of less-innocent games.
She turned her head and gazed up at me, smiling. “Thought you’d like it. With every stroke of icing, I thought of us. ”
My mind guttered yet again. I swallowed hard. “Stroke. Icing.”
“Mmm-hmm…” Her low tone was loaded with sensuality.
The new frosting condiment she’d recently added to our naughty pantry had a world of possibilities. In my struggle to be good, I tried to focus on the cake.
“Break it up, lovebirds. We’ve got a party to conduct.” Kiki grabbed our shoulders, separating us and shoving me backward.
I laughed and pulled both girls into a big hug. “Go be wonderful, girls. Here, Kiki, hold on to this.” I gave her my tablet for safekeeping.
An hour later, both parties were buzzing with energy. Music blared—thank fuck in my room that meant rock music. We all stood by the cake again, the one spot in the room that seemed to be home base when we needed to catch our breath and oversee the party as a whole.
My gaze locked on to a potential hazard. “A chair is being dragged onto the dance floor. I need to make sure no one gets hurt during the hora.”
A crowd gathered on the floor, ushering the man of honor into the center and onto the chair. I glanced up at Darren who’d just faded out a song from Metallica. The popular song of “Hava Nagila” streamed out as the room cheered and gathered to form a circle, holding hands.
Three sturdy men hoisted Jared, who was seated in the chair, high into the air and began the traditional chair dance. We all clapped along, shouting as they paraded their newest man around the floor. Jared had a perma-grin slapped onto his face, arms bouncing toward the ceiling, as he surfed above the crowd.
A couple of hours passed with various activities and dancing. I thought about checking on Kristen and Suzanne, but we’d decided to remain in our corresponding rooms to be available for anything the client needed. In the event of an emergency, we’d agreed to text, but my back pocket hadn’t vibrated once.
Kids lined up for the photo booth, ours done up with an edgy background for the theme. Thankfully, the sound-dampening panels of the walls and our room configurations offered enough sound buffer to keep Bieber away from the rock, as it should be.
Not one incident to report on either side. And still no sign of Madison.
After searching the crowd, I spotted Hannah behind the chess cake as she and Daniel carved out slices onto dessert plates. Not needed anywhere else, I strolled over. “Where’s Chloe?”
Daniel glanced up, the tips of his Mohawk vibrating. “She volunteered to serve the soccer cake.”
“She a closet Bieber fan?”
Hannah and Daniel exchanged a quick glance, then busted up laughing. “That’s exactly what we said.”
Narrowing my eyes, I glanced toward the other room. “I knew it. I sensed that about her.”
Hannah wiped her hands in a cloth napkin. “You got this, Daniel? I need to go to the little girls’ room.”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
Hannah grinned as I fell into step beside her. She arched a brow. “Gonna help me lift my skirt?”
I exhaled slowly, dragging my gaze over her body. She wore jeans and a dressy tank top that begged to be pulled down, but her lack of skirt was beside the point. “Thought you’d never ask.”
“Cade!” Kiki called out from behind me, sounding panicked. “The photo booth froze up again.”
I groaned, pulling Hannah in for a tight hug. “Damn electrics are cock-blocking me.”
She laughed and shoved me away. “Go. I can lift my ‘skirt’ by myself.”
A cascade of other images flooded into my mind, naughty innuendo-induced things she could do by herself, and my jaw dropped.
She shook her head as she walked backward out the door and mouthed, “Bad boy.”
Yeah, I was. And she loved it.
I headed over to the photo booth, then popped open the electrical door in the back like the electrician had done earlier. Last time all she did was press the reboot button, so I tried that fix before calling her back in. All the lights in the outer portion of the unit flickered off. I waited a few seconds, then pressed the button again, and the unit hummed back to life.
Satisfied, I walked around to the front and peeked in to find a young boy and girl inside. “Give it a few seconds, then you can try again. She nodded and my gaze drifted down to where she sat on his lap, his hand resting comfortably on her hip. They couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen. “Your parents know you’re here, sitting on each other?”
The girl blushed.
The boy shook his head. “You won’t tell, will you?”
I snorted. Fuck no. But I acted gruff anyway. “Keep your hands outside the ride at all times.”
His face turned white as he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
I turned away from them and grumbled, “Sir.” Something way too old for me to be called. Well, maybe by anyone other than Hannah…
I scanned the room, searching for her. At least five minutes had gone by, maybe ten, and she hadn’t returned. There could’ve been a line in the ladies’ room, but I doubted it. The men’s bathroom had half a dozen stalls in addition to a trio of urinals on the wall.
Madison’s glaring absence, along with Hannah’s extended one, choked a sudden cramp into the base of my throat as I watched the closed door leading into the hall. Kiki was hanging out by Darren at the DJ booth. “Kiki, you’re in charge until I get back.”
When I stepped into the corridor, it was empty. I headed toward the lobby area, where the main bathrooms were located. Rounding the corner into an adjoining empty hall, movement flickered in the corner.
“Cade.”
Madison.
As I turned, she stepped out from behind a potted palm. I arched a brow. “Getting your hands dirty gardening?”
“Ha, ha.” A seductive smile crept onto her face.
A scrap of a dress barely covered her body. Her shoes had to be five inches high. Interesting choice for a kids’ party. “You running a party or going clubbing.” My statement fell flat, omitting my loudly thought or going whoring. Definitely not hitting a Sex Addicts Anonymous meeting.
“I’m being a good girl.” She stalked forward, her steps weaving a little.
I scoffed. “Impossible.” Not with that outfit or her predatory sexual demeanor.
Instantly, the trauma from my past hit me hard. The vile version of Madison that I’d never known while dating her had come to horrific life before my eyes.
Repulsed as she eased closer, I edged backward, keeping distance between us. My elbow hit a wall when I ran out of hallway real estate.
A corner of her red lips lifted. “As you ordered, I’m staying out of your way. And you’re right. You know I do bad best.”
Furious, I exhaled slowly, refusing to let her affect me, even though she’d cornered me against a wall between her body and another damned potted plant. The scent of alcohol lingered on her breath.
As she pressed closer, I held fast—instead of shoving her with the body check I wanted to give to her. But no woman deserved physical abuse, regardless of the form, including Madison. So I kept my reaction chilled and my voice low. “Get off me, Madison.”
A slow smile curved her lips as she raised a hand, brushing her fingers over my forehead. She ran them through my hair.
An angry shudder ripped through me. With measured words, I growled in warning, “Back the fuck up.”
She purred. “Awww, no need to be nasty, Cade. Give in to it. I know you want me.”
I snorted. “You’re delusional.”
“Am I?”
Her hand went straight for my crotch and fuck if my traitorous dick didn’t twitch in recognition as she gripped me there. (Stupid-ass men’s dicks with minds of their own.)
“I’m warning you, Madison. If you don’t step back, you’re gonna get shoved on your ass.”
Her smile widened, and she pressed into me.
Reining in my temper, because I refused to lay a hand on her, I pinched my eyes shut, jaw clenching.
My eyes popped open the second her lips touched mine. I stared into hers; they were wide open, gazing back as if she knew me. She knew nothing at all.
My hands flew to her shoulders, gripping her hard, right as her tongue flicked across my opening mouth. “Stop this game.”
A whimper sounded down the hall.
My head snapped left.
Hannah stood with a stricken expression on her face, her hand flying up to her mouth.
“Fuck.”
“Ooopsie.” Madison finally stepped back. She looked anything but sorry.
“Kiss your job good-bye,” I growled. Maybe the attorney had dragged his feet. I wouldn’t. I wiped the back of my hand over my mouth, which left a red lipstick smear across my hand.
Madison had the nerve to laugh. Either she didn’t believe I’d carry out the threat or was too drunk to care.
In a blur, Hannah charged between us and shoved Madison hard, knocking her drunk ass to the ground. “Selfish Bitch!”
Madison stared at Hannah wide-eyed. So did I as Hannah leaned over Madison with her hands clenched into tight fists, looking fully prepared to finish what she’d just started.
Tears welled in Madison’s eyes, then she glanced at me. Her vulnerability surfaced. She’d fucked things up royally, but still, beneath it all, was the girl I once knew. The girl who existed beneath all the impenetrable shields only wanted to be loved. She was just clueless on how to make it happen. In fact, her games had pushed me right to the edge of violence. Although nothing justified a man hitting a woman, it could’ve happened with a man less in control.
Instead of attacking Madison, Hannah whirled around. She shoved a finger at my sternum, tears brimming in her eyes. “You. Just…” She growled and turned, storming back the way she came.
“Hannah, wait!”
She spun around. “No. Leave me alone.”
Approaching slowly, I shook my head. “I won’t do that. This wasn’t what you think. And neither is Madison. She—”
My mind flashed to Mom’s explanation, news I hadn’t yet shared with Hannah. Fuck. Well, it was do-or-die time now. All or nothing. I lowered my voice, “She has more issues than sex addiction, Hannah. I’d forgotten to tell you what my mom shared with me at the Fourth of July party. Madison had an ex-boyfriend in Europe who’d beaten her to the point she had to be hospitalized.”
Hannah’s expression turned pained. Her voice dropped to a fierce whisper as she took a step closer. “You’re defending her? And the list of things you keep ‘forgetting’ to tell me about her keeps growing.”
“No. I’m not defending her. I’m only explaining that Madison isn’t well. And I didn’t realize how messed up she is until just now.”
“She’s crazy.”
“Maybe. Damaged, at the very least.”
Hannah shook her head and pinched her eyes shut. Her tears finally fell.
I moved closer, needed to hold her.
She took quick steps back. “No,” she snarled.
Not wanting to upset her further, I froze in place.
“Don’t. Your instincts ran to keeping me on the outside with everything. All I asked was for you to let me in, make me a part of what you struggle with. But all the little things you ‘forget’ to tell me add up. How can I trust you when you don’t automatically feel that I’m important enough to help you with what you face, what affects you—what threatens us?”
“Hannah, please.”
My heart pounded. A cramp formed in my throat. I’d fucked up. But not as a major event. I’d failed with all the little things along the way while I hadn’t been paying enough attention. And because of it, Hannah wasn’t slipping away—she threw herself with everything she had in the opposite direction.
“No,” she ground out. Her gaze hardened. “I don’t want to be around you now. Plus, you’ve got her all over your face. When I see you, I see that.” She pointed back toward Madison. Then she spun and strode down the hall.
When I turned around, Madison wore a shit-eating grin on her face. I glared at her. “All this because you wanted something you could never have?”
“I always believed I could. We were so right for each other back then.” She sniffed as she pushed herself into a seated position, curling her legs to the side.
I let out a heavy sigh, dropping my hands into my pockets as I gave her a hard stare. “The image you have of us back then was a mirage. The real you was hidden from me.”
She stared at her lap on a shrug. “I didn’t have the courage then. Really, I had no idea that I had a problem. That there was a clinical definition for it.”
“Madison, look at me.” When she lifted her face, her gaze locking with mine, I continued, “You have more than a sex addiction. You have a compulsive personality. Obsessive. You never explained why you fucked with our businesses. I’m not even sure you understood. But it all makes perfect sense now.”
Her brows drew together. “It does?”
Yeah. She had no idea. Which made her all the more dangerous. “Sure. You wanted to get close to me. When you had no control over that, you scrambled for anything you could affect. Maybe some twisted part of you wanted to hurt me, like you felt it connected us in some way. I don’t know. Don’t really care now. You need help. And thanks to you, someone I truly care about is in pain.”
“I’m sorry, Cade.”
I didn’t ask what for. In her narcissistic world, she would only be able to have remorse about things not working out in her favor. I pegged her with a warning look. “Just keep away, Madison. From everything.”
She gave me a short nod. “No problem there. You got me fired.”
I stared at her a beat longer. “No, Madison. That was all on you.”
Without another thought, I left her on the rug in the hallway. If guests saw, so be it. After the stunt she pulled, and her blood alcohol level, security needed to escort her ass off the property.
I fired off a quick text to Suzanne.
Send security to the hallway past the lobby. Madison. Drunk.
I needed to find Hannah. She thought we needed space, but we needed to sort it out together. The few minutes of time I’d given her was all the alone time I could afford. I hoped she would realize that Madison had been ambushing us and me all along—not only the business sabotage, but also the other day at lunch and tonight in the hallway. I’d fucked up. I got that. But I hoped Hannah had faith in me, the man beneath all my screw-ups that she’d fallen in love with. That she’d trust in her instincts—trust in me.
In the seconds it took to reach the lobby area, my heart raced. I stopped to scan everyone mingling in the wide-open space and those who sat in the chairs. I passed by a mirror and paused when I caught the damage. Red still stained my lips and smeared off of one corner. No amount of wiping with my hand removed it entirely. “Goddammit!”
Searching for Hannah, but not finding her anywhere, I rushed into the men’s room and grabbed one of the rolled wash cloths, wet it, squirted a shit-ton of soap onto it, and washed my mouth, face, and hand off.
Then I crossed the hallway to the women’s bathroom and barged in. “Hannah!” I ignored the indignant looks of two younger guests and one older woman, who seemed shocked but not alarmed.
No one answered. I bent over and peered at the shoes under the only two closed stalls like a pervert, in plain view of the women now washing their hands who eyed me with guarded interest. None of those feet belonged to Hannah.
I stormed back out and leaned a shoulder against the wall, pulling my phone out, texting Hannah.
Where are you?
No text bubble popped up in reply on her end. Nothing. A few seconds later I sent her another.
Please, Hannah. It wasn’t what it looked like.
Which is what everyone says when they get caught, guilty or not.
You know Madison. This was her plan all along.
Impatient, and worried with her nonresponse, I backtracked through the lobby and down the corridors. I approached the two ongoing parties, muted sounds of their competing music filtering out their closed doors. Then I realized I’d gone the wrong way. She’d never want to be around other people when upset.
But she wasn’t in the bathroom. Not in the lobby. We’d driven separately, and she’d parked her car near my Jeep in the front parking lot. I raced out, bursting through the front doors of the air-conditioned lobby into the muggy night air. Five running steps down the pavement, I stopped. Her car was still parked next to mine. Hannah: nowhere to be seen.
Firing off duplicate texts to my sisters, I sent them an emergency all-call.
If you see Hannah, text ASAP.
Madison pulled a twisted stunt.
Hannah upset.
“Fuck. Think, Cade. Think.” My chest grew heavier with every second that ticked by.
Not knowing where else to look, I yanked the main entrance doors back open. The same people milled about in the front lobby. A concierge sat at his desk, and I walked up to him.
“Who’s the person directly above your general manager?”
The young man blinked. “I’m not sure, sir. The board members I think.”
Blowing out a breath in frustration, I texted Suzanne again. She hadn’t responded yet.
Call me. Urgent.
My phone rang seconds later. I shoved out through the back patio doors for privacy as I picked up the call. “Madison is drunk, in a skanky dress, and she just cornered me against my will, kissing me in front of Hannah. Now Hannah is MIA. Madison told me she was fired, so you may want to have security kick her out if they haven’t already.”
“O-oh, Cade. I’m so sorry. I hadn’t heard. I did call security after your text. Hold on a second.” The party sounds in the background faded, and I heard a door close before she came back on. “Here it is: an email from the board confirming Madison’s termination. It was sent just before the parties started. I’m sorry I didn’t stay on top of her issue. I could’ve warned you.”
I shook my head. “No, don’t worry about it. Knowing that in advance wouldn’t have stopped Madison.”
“Okay. I’ll follow up with security to make sure they’ve handled it. And again, I’m so sorry.”
I ended the call and went outside, prepared to search every square inch of the grounds. As I walked down a lit path, I thought about the spa. But when I got there, I found the doors had been locked at the late hour. Then I searched around the building, sticking to the sidewalks and paved surfaces.
After thirty minutes of searching the grounds, I came full circle, ending up at the front parking lot again. Hannah’s car remained beside mine. I crumpled down onto the curb, finding it hard to breathe.
I was a Grade A asshole. There were so many other ways I could’ve have handled Madison. I’d been offered an out by my sisters for the entire night. But no, I had to be king. Being cool, calm, and collected in the face of adversity had always been my strong suit.
To admit I needed help wasn’t written into my DNA. My instincts ran with taking on everything at once, juggling to make sure every ball got caught and tossed back up, seamlessly.
Only this time I’d dropped something fragile, irreplaceable.