I have a slight headache from crying most of the night, and I don’t feel like I look my best, but Graham doesn’t say a word about it as he whisks me upstairs to the penthouse.
The first thing he does is put me on the couch in the living room and hand me a bottle of water. I take sips from it while he moves around the apartment.
He’s tense and I feel awful for all of this. I don’t know how it got to this point. I was living a fairy tale that wasn’t meant for me. I’m so sorry I dragged him into this.
“Are you drawing a bath?” That’s definitely the sound of running water.
Graham doesn’t answer. He returns a few minutes later with a stack of clothes in hand. A robe—new and silky—along with a comfortable outfit that could easily be pajamas or the classier version of loungewear.
“You had these laying around?” I ask as he hands me the folded bundle.
“Maybe,” he says. “Why don’t you get changed? If we’re not going out, then you’re allowed to be comfortable.”
“Get changed or have a bath?”
“Either. Both. Whatever will get you to talk to me.”
When we get to the main bathroom, the tub is filled, a candle flickers on the edge, and there’s a small glass of wine balanced on a tray that stretches over the water.
It’s far too romantic for what I feel like I deserve. I’ve messed this up. Just like I messed everything else up.
“Are those rose petals?” I can’t help a soft smile of disbelief at the crimson petals floating on the surface. “Did you put rose petals in the bathwater?”
“I told you I’d make it up to you.”
Graham bustles toward the door. “The remote on the tray connects to the sound system. It’ll play whatever you want, just scroll through the screen for the options.”
He’s drawn a bath for me.
“If you don’t want to talk, we can listen to music.”
I put the clothes on the towel shelf and look down at the steaming hot water. It looks like heaven although I may fall asleep in it, I’m so damn tired.
“Where did you get rose petals?” I whisper, and then decide to take him up on it.
The wine’s sweet and chilled, the water’s hot and soothing, and the music brings it all together. I expect him to follow me in, but when I sink fully in, he isn’t there.
The music is quiet enough that I can hear him moving around in the penthouse. A door opens and shuts. Low voices talk to one another. I watch the rose petals float across the surface of the tub. I feel awful for last night.
It’s all on the tip of my tongue. I didn’t really want him to go. I just didn’t know what else to say. I just wanted it all to stop.
With both hands, I splash the water on my face and attempt to just calm down. Suzette’s advice echoes in my head: calm down. Tell him when you’re calm.
She said it will be okay, but I don’t see how any of this is going to be okay.
I sip the wine until it’s gone and let the heat of the water take some of the ache out of my muscles. Whew. A girl really shouldn’t cry that hard if she doesn’t want to feel like crap all day.
When I’ve soaked up all the relaxation I can, he still isn’t in the tub.
I get out and dry off with one of Graham’s ridiculously fluffy towels. His initials are monogrammed on them in dark blue, like his stationery, and that makes me feel lighter for some reason. I think I just like the sight of his initials.
There’s an arrangement of glass dispensers on the counter with lotion that has the light scent of aloe, and I spend some time rubbing it into my skin, waiting for him, before I change into the clothes he’s brought.
He must have had them here. But I don’t think he bought them today.
Did he have them here for me all along?
Did he want to ask me to stay and make it clear that he has everything I need?
I look much better in the mirror when I’m finished with the lotion. Last night was rough, and it showed on my face, but now my cheeks are pink from the bath and my eyes aren’t as red as they were. You can hardly tell I was crying.
I slip the robe over my shoulders, tie the belt in front, and go back out into the main penthouse, quietly, but not without calling out his name.
He doesn’t answer so I call out louder, “Graham?”
There’s music playing in the living room, and someone has set up a table with a white tablecloth in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Graham’s lighting a candle in the center as I pad up behind him.
I have to blink away the disbelief.
“You shouldn’t have done all this,” I say, more heat flooding my face. “After last night—”
“Yes, I should because I want to.” He finishes lighting the candle and smiles at me. “And because I want you.” It’s a shy, vulnerable smile, and he leans forward to kiss my forehead before he pulls out my chair and helps me into it.
Graham has unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, so I’m not the only one who’s made themselves more comfortable.
My mouth waters, looking at his forearms. There’s a deep need and a deep ache at the thought of lying in his arms.
It’s all I want. He pulls the chair out for me and I thank him, once again taken aback.
I have a feeling though that he really wants to talk, and I know I have a lot of explaining to do.
I focus on the table instead. He’s put two flowers in a vase near the edge of the table and they’re lovely. I was not in a good place when I saw that flower shop yesterday. I love flowers, and I happen to believe that beautiful flowers can make any bad situation at least a little better.
I almost start to admit how foolish I feel. How I’m just emotional because of my cousin, because of my aunt, and because of money and this situation and all of my uncertainty. I nearly let all the words tumble out, but when I look up, Graham has an expression I can’t place, and I keep my lips firmly shut.
Graham steps away from the table, returning a minute later with the bottle of wine. He hesitates over my glass. “Did you like it?”
“I loved it.” I give him a smile I know doesn’t reach my eyes, and he smiles back. He’s a striking man, and his charming look sends heat all through me.
Graham pours us both a glass, then leaves again.
It’s quiet but for the gentle classic music. With steadying breaths I prepare to just come clean and tell him I’m in over my head in more ways than one.
He comes back with plates that go on top of the fancy china at our places, then leaves one more time. By the time he’s done bringing the food, we have a basket of hot, fluffy rolls, a silver dish of mashed potatoes that look like they’re to die for, two more sides, a plate of seared scallops and lobster tails, and a plate of very tender beef that almost looks like stew. All I know is that it smells like heaven, and I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.
Graham takes his place across from me and scans the table. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
You, I want to say but instead opt for gratitude. “No. This looks amazing. Thank you.”
We eat for a few minutes. I was right. The mashed potatoes are to die for. Everything is swimming in butter and just the right amount of salty goodness. Graham looks even more handsome with the candlelight on his face.
We eat, although I eat slowly. I’m certain I know what comes next and I’m not ready.
It’s still too silent and I know it is when he clears his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about last night,” he says tentatively.
“Are you sure we should…now?” I nearly chicken out.
“I think we should. I’m sorry I didn’t stay to talk longer.” Graham looks me in the eye, his regret clear. “I mean it, Maddie.”
“I’m sorry I said that word.”
His silverware stops in midair. “I’m sorry I listened to it,” he tells me. “I know that’s wrong but leaving you because you safeworded me isn’t what—”
“I didn’t want you to leave. I just wanted it to stop.”
He stops and I apologize for interrupting.
“Did you not think I’d leave?”
“I thought you wouldn’t push for what was wrong,” I tell him.
He drops his silverware. “Did you want me to stay?” he asks.
“I wouldn’t have pushed you away if you’d come to bed.” I almost tell him I’d rather he have taken me to his bed though.
His jaw clenches and he drops his silverware to his plate for a drink of wine.
“I only left because I thought that’s what you wanted,” he tells me when he puts the glass down. “No, not what you wanted. I left because when you say red, it means it stops, which means I leave.”
“No. You didn’t have to leave.” I’m quick to correct him.
He pauses, his eyes boring into mine. “Don’t use that word again unless it’s because of something sex related Madelyn. Even if you want me to leave.” He’s deathly serious and I nod and tell him I won’t use it if it’s not about something in the bedroom.
He’s more tense and starts to say something but then stops.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you would think I meant for you to leave. I just didn’t know what to say, I didn’t want to say what I was thinking, but I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Are you all right?” he asks me when tears prick my eyes.
I swallow, thinking about how badly I’ve messed this up, about how I lost my job, thinking about my cousin and how she can’t rely on me, and about my aunt. “I don’t think so.”
“I’d like to know what made you so upset, if you’re willing to share it.”
“I don’t know where to start,” I admit.
“Start from the beginning.”
“I got bad news yesterday. A lot of it actually.”
“What kind of bad news?” he asks, his elbows on the table, his hands folded under his chin, entirely focused on me.
I want to tell him. I want him to know everything. I don’t care if he fixes it or not, I just want him to know. I don’t know what’s going to happen between us, but I do know that if I don’t tell him, I’ll wonder what he would have said. I’ll wonder what would have happened after this moment.
“Well. It turns out that my boss is an asshole. Was an asshole, I mean.” I dab the corner of my eyes.
His forehead furrows. “Was?”
“I mean...” I wave my wine glass at him. “He didn’t die. He’s just not my boss anymore. I got fired because I told him to stop yelling at one of the other assistants. It was…” It hits me, maybe for the first time, how silly that whole thing was. Why would I have wanted to work there, anyway? I’d have come to that conclusion sooner or later, and I’d have had to find another job. “It was just not a good situation. But I worked so hard to get the job in the first place that it felt like a total disaster.”
“Anyone would be upset about that.”
“That’s not all.” I let out a sigh and a frown deepens in my expression. “My cousin called on the way home with more bad news.”
Graham stays quiet and patient.
“She’s struggled with student loans for a long time. I love her so much, and I’ve always done all I can to help her, but when my ex left, I couldn’t help and it really screwed her over. She can’t afford it on her own and I told her I’d be there for her. I promised her because I thought…well because I didn’t know my fiancé was cheating on me. I thought that if I could get a job, I’d be in a position to make things easier. But she called yesterday, just after I’d been let go, and I snapped at her. I told her to figure it out for herself.”
“I’m sure, given time...she can’t blame you for that.”
“Well, she also told me that my aunt is sick.” This is the part that feels the worst to talk, or think, about. “I called her today. Complications from cancer treatment. I spent the night texting her and then my aunt. It’s treatable but…they can’t afford it. She can’t get the medicine she needs because she has so much medical debt already, and insurance is a nightmare, and…”
He looks across the table at me, nothing but concern in his face. My first thought it that I hope he doesn’t think I’m lying. That I’m trying to use him. “I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. This isn’t…” Tears blur my eyes at the thought of him thinking I would lie to him. That I would use him for money. “This is exactly why I couldn’t…” I start to say and his chair groans against the floor as he pushes it out to come to me. He sits closer, his arm around me and telling me it’s all right. All the while I’m falling to rubbish all over again.
“I know I couldn’t have fixed all of it, but yesterday, it felt like I couldn’t fix anything. And I wanted to. That’s why I was so upset. Then, when you came to my apartment, I was...”
Graham presses his lips together, like he’s stopping himself from interrupting.
“I was ashamed,” I finally manage. “I was ashamed to let you see me like that. Because in the beginning of all this, I felt like our deal was giving me a little control over my life.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? And I was ashamed because I already feel like I’m using you.”
“How could you possibly be using me?” he asks.
“For the money…like degrading myself for—”
“Do you find being with me degrading?” he cuts me off to ask.
My face gets twice as hot. “No. I don’t. I liked what we did together, and even more than that, I liked spending time with you. Your friends…I was so happy to meet your friends. That meant a lot to me.”
“But?”
“But when I got fired, all I could think is that you’re going to think less of me. That…” I can’t even get the words out because they all scream in my head telling me to shut up and that I’m making it worse. And that I’m going to lose him.
“I don’t want you to think I’m coming to you because I’m desperate and need money.”
Graham’s quiet for a minute, looking down at his plate. Then he looks back up at me.
“What I spend my money on is my choice. And if I want to give it all to you, that is for me to concern myself with, not you.”
“It doesn’t change that I was scared you’d think a certain way or that…” It takes me a minute to find my voice. “I thought I was losing you, too. I just thought that you wouldn’t want to keep doing that when it was clear I didn’t have another option and that I was hard on money.”
“Did you have another option when we started?” He asks in his logical sensical way.
“No,” I say slowly. “But my feelings weren’t as complicated.”
He nods as if he understands, and my heart pounds.
“Okay.” Graham takes out his phone. “First off, I’m going to take care of these problems.”
“Which problems?” I feel sick. I don’t want him to think for one second that I only want his money.
“All of them.”
“Graham, I don't want your—”
“I would like it if you would allow me to do what makes me happy, my little temptress.” He holds my gaze and then gives me an asymmetrical smile. “Let me do this simply because I want to.”
“I want you because I want you,” I tell him and hope he believes it.
“And I want you because I want you,” he responds, and I do believe it. I believe him. This time when tears prick they’re for a different reason, but I push the emotions down.
“And as for your job—”
“You can’t get me my job back.”
“You don’t want that job back,” he says simply, and he’s right. “But if you want to search for one, I will help however I can. And if you don’t want one and want to go back to charity work, I will help however I can there as well.”
“You’re too good to me,” I whisper and there’s a voice so loud begging me to tell him that I love him. That this is more to me than what we said it was.
“I’m fixing it,” he says, steel in his eyes. “Tell me about the loan companies. Do you have the information, or is there someone I need to call to get it?”
“I…I have all the information. I’ve been helping Kenzie with these for years.” I manage to get up out of my seat and get my phone, then scroll through my inbox until I’ve found the ones with the account numbers.
Graham is still seated next to me and he sees. He takes his own phone out rather than taking mine. He doesn’t dial the number of the service department at the student loan servicer. He calls the president of the company, at home, after business hours. He tells me to eat, kissing my forehead before disappearing into the back office.
How could I possibly eat? I push the food around on the plate praying, all the while hoping, I can text my cousin that she doesn’t have to worry any longer. She only moved out there because I convinced her to follow her dreams. I set her up for failure like I did myself. If Graham can fix this, I will owe him more than just a blow job or anal.
Kenzie’s loans are gone in less than twenty minutes, vanished into thin air.
Then he moves on to my aunt’s medical bills. That takes closer to thirty minutes, because some of the bills have gone into collections.
Those are gone before I can finish my glass of wine. I’m practically dizzy with disbelief. I know he’s wealthy. Wealthier than my ex and wealthier than most. But I didn’t realize just how much money he had.
I can’t stop thanking him and I don’t even know how to tell Kenzie or my aunt.
“I told you this would be easy for me to do and that I wanted to do it.”
Finally, Graham puts his phone face down on the table, and I put mine down, too. It’s like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders. I’ve been worrying about my cousin for so long that I can’t remember what it’s like not to worry about her.
“Graham, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”
“I’m not asking you to,” he tells me, and my gaze drops to my plate. I’m grateful but I also feel so inadequate.
“I wish there was something I could do,” I finally manage.
“I will settle for you telling me that you will spend this week with me in this apartment and you will keep me company.”
“For just this week?”
“For this week, in my penthouse. Not going to your apartment,” he adds as if that stipulation would make the deal somehow harder to accept.
“Just be with you…for the week?” I ask him.
“Just be with me,” he answers, and I take a steadying inhale.
“I would stay with you regardless.”
“And I would pay those bills regardless as well. So we can call it even.”
My bottom lip drops slightly and I remind myself that this is real life. That this man I have fallen for is better than any dream. He is more than any picture-perfect catalog man I could have sold my soul to Satan for.
“You know you’re my hero don’t you?” I whisper, my fingers playing with the stem of the glass.
“You don’t know how happy that makes me to hear. Madelyn, I am fairly certain I...”
My shoulders straighten at his hesitation, “You what?”
“That I…have caught feelings for you.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I whisper not because I don’t, but because I don’t believe he’s saying it. Is he says he loves me?
“Yes, you do.” His face has never looked so open. “It was never just sex for me. I don’t care about your rent money. I don’t care about any problem you could ever have with money. I don’t care how much you need, or how much you want.”
He pauses, and my heart beats faster. “What do you care about, then?”
“I care about being with you,” he says. “So be with me. Stay with me. That’s all I want.”
“Do you love me, Graham?” I ask him cautiously, my heart beating wildly.
“I think I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you, my little temptress.”
The world moves slower as if something perfect has just slipped into place and all I can do is look him in the eyes and tell him the truth. “I love you too.”