Smash_ A Stepbrother MMA Romance(61)

As I stood in front of an enormous painting of children playing baseball, I heard heels clacking on the marble floor, coming toward me. As far as I could tell, most women wore flats and casual clothes, and so I was a little surprised to hear heels. I looked up and that was when I saw her.

Madison was walking toward me. I knew she would scoop me up eventually and take me to Cindy, but still. I had to take deep, calm breaths to keep from screaming at the horrible bitch.

She was exactly how I remembered her: prim, uptight, and serious. Her hair was pulled back into a tight, neat bun, and she wore stylish and expensive clothes. She smiled but without warmth, without joy. I wondered how she fit in with everyone else and realized that she probably didn’t.

“Alexa,” she said, stopping in front of me. “I’m Madison, Cindy’s assistant.”

“I know,” I said. “I remember you from the benefit.”

She looked at me for a second. “Yes, I saw you there. That’s right.”

We shook hands, though I didn’t want to touch her one bit. I wanted to throw her through a window, actually, and I realized that I needed to reign myself in. It wasn’t the time to make a move, not just yet.

I had a plan. It relied on surprise and intimidation, but I thought I could make it work.

“Come this way,” she said. “I’ll take you to Cindy’s office.”

We walked down the hall together then, and Madison gave me a quick little tour of everything we passed. She was quick and efficient, if not a little curt, and I had to admit that I admired that a little bit. So many women worked to act like men in the workplace, but Madison simply seemed like she was acting like herself. She wasn’t worried about coming off as a bitch or something like that. Cindy was probably the same way.

We got into the elevator and she hit the button for the sixth floor. “Cindy’s office is actually just off the elevator,” she said as we sped upward.

“That’s perfect,” I said, turning toward her. It was time to make my move, and I knew it. “Because I have something I want to say.”

She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Oh? What’s that?”

“I know it’s you, Madison. The pictures, the blackmail.” I paused, letting that sink in. “I know it’s you.”

Her face slowly fell. It went from passive and amused to surprised in half a second flat. “W-what are you talking about?” she stammered.

“We found your source, the waitress. She told us it’s you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I glanced at the elevator’s display. We were half a floor away.

“Meet me in the parking garage at three. Second level, B row.”

“What?” she said, completely off guard. I could tell she was shaken.

“Meet me there or your job is finished.”

The elevator reached the floor with a ding and the doors opened up.

Madison stared at me for a second and then quickly got herself together. “Well,” she said, “right this way.”

I followed her out and down a short hallway. Her desk was set up outside a large glass door. Inside I could see Cindy sitting at her desk. She waved me inside, smiling, though she was on the phone.

“See you later, Madison,” I said sweetly.

She didn’t respond, simply sat down at her desk as I pushed into Cindy’s office.

I had to hand it to the girl. I had dropped a bombshell on her out of nowhere, and she had gotten herself together pretty fast. I suspected she would show up at the parking garage; she wasn’t stupid. But I had to be careful of her.

I didn’t know what surprises she might have in store for me.

Lunch was fine. We ate at an expensive restaurant, and Cindy mostly talked about her job. I asked her questions to keep her going, not really interested in talking much myself.

I was pretty distracted. I kept thinking about Madison and began to wonder if I had made a mistake not confronting her with everything right there in the elevator. I could have pulled the emergency stop switch or something like that.

Lunch dragged on and on, but finally we left the restaurant at a bit past two. Cindy headed back to her office, and I took a short walk around downtown, killing time, letting my thoughts roam.

I kept coming back to Cole’s face and the way he touched me over and over. Even with the terrifying meeting ahead of me, I couldn’t stop thinking about Cole and his cocky swagger. Everything about him was frustrating but incredible, this heady mix of desire and lust and everything forbidden. Our potential divorce had basically slipped my mind, I realized with a start.

For the past year, I had done nothing but worry about that divorce. I had obsessed and thought about how much better my life could be if I didn’t have an absent husband weighing down my conscience. And suddenly he was back, but the divorce had slowly melted from my mind.