MADI

I can't shake the feeling from our argument. Jace hasn't snapped at me like this since Brad. It's hard ignoring the sharpness in his voice when he called me naive. I've always tried to be understanding, to see the best in people, but maybe I misjudged the situation. I should've stayed out of it. I hate that I didn't hang up on his mom...then this wouldn't have happened. It isn't my place to intervene. 

I make a mental note to never push this trigger of his. I love him too much to see him upset, hurt, and reliving past pains. I try to shake off the melancholy at the country club. It's going to be a busy day. Me and Lil have new staff members to train. I'm not my usual hyper self. There's a weight on my chest, one I can't shake.

Lil's got her usual pep, though, leading the servers through their training with ease. "Alright, everyone, watch closely!" she calls out, balancing trays full of drinks and plates. "Use balance control. You don't want any wobbling or spilling. Or to cause an unwanted food fight...as fun as that sounds." Lil cracks up the trainees.

I watch her hold each with precision, demonstrating how to level the trays by tilting forward to distribute the food equally. The new trainees follow her movements, mirroring her, their faces a mix of concentration and awe. She makes it look so easy. My mood isn't as engaging, and it's obvious. I stand before the bar, facing away from my sis to hide my hurt. I observe the bartenders line up shot glasses for a trick I've been perfecting. Flavored ice drops in glasses in sync like dominoes.

Usually, I love this, showing off the fun side of mixology, but today feels flat.

"Okay, guys, this one's all about timing," I explain, my voice lacking its usual enthusiasm. "Trick shots with flavored ice cubes. Our key is a domino effect." I set up rows of shots, scooting the cube up so it knocks all 20 down. The ice clinks into each glass in an assembly line, the colors swirling and bubbling. They attempt to do the same.

The slower learners outnumber fast ones, so this will take a while.

A few pickup on my glum mood. One of them, a young girl named Ava, is concerned. "You okay, Boss? You seem off today.

I force a smile. "Yeah, just a lot on my mind. But thanks for asking. Let's focus on getting this trick right. It'll be a big hit with customers.

Ava nods, but I can see the concern in her eyes. I need to snap out of this funk, I can't be unprofessional around subordinates. But my mind can't shake the fight. I hate how things ended; I know I need to apologize. I didn't expect him to lash out like that. I expected him to be better.

The rest of the training is rough. I keep them grooming them; we have an hour before customers pile in. Lil keeps the servers in line, her usual snarky self. All I want is to go home and cry in bed.

The day winds down into night; the club is packed. Every table is occupied by the wealthy. The servers are surprisingly organized, and the tenders are keeping up with the 15 second turnover rate. Lil meets up with me for our usual patrol of the banquet hall. We stroll the perimeter. "You're quiet. Everything alright?"

"Just a lot on my mind." I lie.

She narrows her eyes, not convinced. "You sure? You can talk to be about anything."

I nod slowly. "Yeah, I know."

"You'll work it out."

"I hope so."

"Is it about Jace?"

She won't stop until I fold, so here it goes. "We had an argument...it was bad. I broke a boundary."

"Oh, no...that is bad. What was it about?"

"I don't want to get into it." I feel a little lighter from talking about it. Still, I don't want to get into details.

I stay in my office until late—10 PM. I barely notice. The quiet hum of the laptop keeps me company. I type new work schedules and plan training techniques. The cursor blinks as I jot down ideas for new methods to teach the bartenders, something funner and straightforward. I sketch out a plan, breaking it into steps, making sure even the slowest learners can follow along.

I glance at the spin wheel on my phone, eyes locking on the most chosen topic: Talk about your favorite book! 📚.

A soft smile crosses my face. That's easy. I go live, taking a deep breath to shake off the stress of the day. This is a welcomed distraction. The screen flashes 3.2.1.

"Hey, HartStoppers! Having a good night? Yes or no? Comment below. So, the raffle wheel winner is favorite book! Which is Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. It was pretty scandalous for the time it was published. 1847. Back then, the idea of women having any sort of sexual freedom was a huge no-no. If a woman slept with someone before marriage, she was doomed. Her family's reputation ruined, she'd end up an old maid. Wuthering Heights is passion, revenge, society shunning, and steam."

I never read it!

My night is better now that you're live ❤️

I think I read this in high school

My night is slow! Thanks for streaming you saved me 💓💓💓

Yeah...kind of like how you ruined the Harrison name 🙄 of course you love this book

You have so much in common with the home wrecking MC 🤡

We don't care stop going live 🤬

"Fun fact! Emily Brontë actually used a pen name, Ellis Bell, to publish the book. She posed as a man to be accepted. At that time, women weren't allowed to write anything outside of pure romance. That's also why I love it." With that, I lean back in my chair, satisfied with the talk. "So, what's everyone else's favorite book? Drop it in the comments, I'd love to hear!"

Harry Potter

Ironically...Speak by Laurie Anderson

The Mortal Instruments

Fallen

Twilight

Me Before You

Maze Runner

Hunger Games

Lord Of The Rings

Game Of Thrones

Little Women

Pride and Prejudice

Romeo and Juliet

The last one has me reminiscing. Jace and I talked about Romeo and Juliet. He thinks it's too irrational because of suicide. I also sang their names on karaoke night before our wedding day: "

Romeo and Juliet, Samson and Delilah. Baby, you can bet...a love they couldn't deny. My words say split, but my words they lie. 'Cause when we kiss, ooh, fire."

I hasten to the closing words, so I don't get emotional in front of millions. "I'm signing off until tomorrow, good night, and remember to speak up with BetterHelp and the hotline." I end the stream with the number for the hotline. I lay my head on the desk and cry silently.

I can't hide here all night...or can I? There's a sofa. I can crash in my office. I don't want to start another fight. I ruined the day...now Jace hates me.

I hear footsteps approaching, so I straighten up, wiping my wet eyes. I expect it to be Lily saying she closed the club...but it's my hubby. "I'm sorry, Madi. I shouldn't have taken this out on you. I messed up... Can you forgive me?" My Jacy boo is ashamed. His delicate hands help me from the chair.

I'm too consumed by emotions to speak; my throat isn't working but my tear ducts are. He kiss away the drops trickling down my cheeks. Jace holds me against his chest for a slow dance. I'm swayed side to side by my love.

His safe embrace cures the agony within me, melting it away. His caramel smooth voice sings to me:

"Oh, my love, my darling,

I've hungered for your touch

A long, lonely time..."

Our wedding song. His hand moves gently across my back. I feel every rumble of his voice from his chest. I sniffle out a laugh of relief. His singing is a pain reliever, so is the lover's dance we begin.

"Time goes by so slowly,

And time can do so much,

Are you still mine?" He tilts my chin to share an aching stare.

"Yes..." I whimper. "I'm still yours." My lips connect to his with electricity. The pricking sting is euphoric. I blink away tears.

Jace presses his forehead against mine, whispering, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too...I won't do it again. I forgive you."

"My family is a touchy subject."

"I know...I'll steer clear."

"Thank you." He swoops me into his arms. "Now let's go home."

The lovemaking is divine, as though blessed. We don't just connect—we soul share, in a bedroom bathed in moonlight. His eyes, scarred with deep remorse and tenderness, speak louder than any apology. Every touch is a vow of repentance, every passionate stroke a plea for forgiveness. Our bodies meld, crafted in harmony, two perfect halves. Our synchronized breaths are the very air of heaven, our lips unlock paradise.

I try focusing as I set up for the morning rush, but my mind wanders. Last night was epic! My bones hum with the memory of his touch. The way he made love to me, how he cherished me. Treated me as a goddess. I grin addictively, my cheeks heating while I stack bottles behind the bar.

"Madi!" Lil's voice snaps me back to reality. I fumble, nearly knocking over the glass bottles.

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on." Lil tilts her head. "I know that look. You're daydreaming about F U C K I N G."

"Geez Lily....say it louder." I regret this because she will do exactly that. I cover her mouth before she yells it.

"Don't test me." She mumbles against me.

"Yeah, I should know better." I drop my hand. "And it wasn't that per se." I wipe the countertops.

"Aww love making!" She cheeses. "I'm glad you too made up. That was fast."

"He's wrapped around my finger." I bask.

"And you're around his." Lil laughs, giving me a playful shove. "You're walking on air. Makeup sex does wonders, huh?"

I roll my eyes, trying to play it off, but I can't stop smiling. "Hush."

"Well, keep daydreaming, sis, keep that power."

JACE

I did good last night...so did she. We lasted 2 hours. My darling is finally on my level. I think all the angst gave her a boost. Makeup sex is a power up move. I text her:

We should go again tonight 🤍

Madi: YES 🤤🤤🤤

How's the shoot? Sorry I can't make it, training is slow.

Me: It's going well

Madi: I bet he's yummy 😏 don't get caught

Me: 😎 challenge accepted

The modeling shoot is finally happening. Strygent warehouse is cleared for professional filming. There are 8 sets for photos and reels. Orlando James is as delightful as before. Eye candy while I work. I sign paperwork for President Belle. Accept blueprints for a new stadium an hour out, and cross-check employee interrogations.

This keeps me busy enough to seem occupied while watching my new investment. No one will know I'm checking him out. I'll try not to drool.

The first set is cologne and car based. Not on my end, on Orbe's. Midnight Valor, a scent involving gingerbread, cider, and caramel for the autumn season. The Studio lights slice through the mist created by industrial fans. 

PLAY THE VIDEO

Orlando lies on the hood of a red StryOrbe. His long, curly hair dancing in the air. His toned arms bare, same as his chest. The low riding dress pants flowy. James's body tattoos are all oiled up like the rest of his skin. He's perfection. The gorgeous locks on this man don't quit. I swear the god of air is present. I can't take my eyes off him, but I force myself to, so I'm less conspicuous.

The director orders the makeup team, who tend to him, adding final touches to his already flawless appearance. He climbs onto the motorcycle in a leather jacket, my heart flips. The leather clings to him in all the right ways, hugging his shoulders, his chest, and legs. The way Orlando grips the handlebars, the wirey tattoo on his hand.

I have no idea how the camera crew manages to stay focused because I'm hypnotized. Set 3 involves drones, circling him as he stands in oversized formal wear. He's so sexy in this look. The baggy clothes and drones give a boy next door vibe. The lighting team move in for a great shot, but every angle is perfect. There's no bad one. Not on him. I swallow hard, my throat sizzling acid. I decide to take a stroll to distract my hunger.

As I walk, I glance back and forth between the papers and him. I'm going to get caught. I pace my eye contact, focusing on the documents more than him. Next time I look up, the stage crew is fitting him with the clear VR headset. It covers half his face, but somehow makes him look even more alluring. The bandana, the spray-painted clothes, the head poses. I have to look away...I'm staring for too long. I time myself, pretending to read the documents.

A helicopter hangar is next, he's in slim SWAT gear. The suit fits him like a glove, perfectly tailored to his impressive body, The gusts from the helicopter blades catches his hair. His ruggedly soft features destroys me. A heat in my core catches hellfire. I continue my walk. I'm glad Madi isn't here...she'd make my secret obvious.

From my peripheral view, Orlando slips into the cockpit to act as if he's steering, the after affects team chroma keys in sky footage. I put a hand in my pocket, nodding briefly to a few stagehands as I move through the warehouse. The day is windy, but I've worked up a sweat...it isn't from exercise. I wipe my forehead before it gets worse. I need to stop this. Need to go away...but I have to see him.

The last set is a runway platform, high fashion. My model catwalks with a mixture of masculine feminine. The AI-powered sunglasses he sponsors reflect all light. He's a modern-day terminator, sexy, dangerous. The leather ripped jeans, the leather crop top—it's all so edgy. Many men couldn't pull this off. He glides the stage, his boots hitting the polished floor, each step sending a shockwave through me.

He's magnetic...I'm caught in his orbit. Crushing hard doesn't even cover it. I'm completely drawn to him. Helpless. My brain drains blood from arousal. Okay, I need to go!

I hastily stroll past rows of equipment, lighting rigs, and hanging green screens, all neatly arranged for the rest of today's shoot. Everything is in place, perfectly organized, just like I need it to be. Except my mind is a damn mess! I need to organize it. I've circled the warehouse more than usual...that's suspicious on my end. I may have slipped up.

My heart gallops. I exhale sharply, deciding it's time to retreat. My office overlooks the entire set. I know from there, at least, I can watch him without being seen. The windows are one-way tinted, the perfect cover. No one will know. I climb the stairs quickly, my hand gripping railings a little too tightly that my veins show.

Once inside, I drop the papers on my desk. From this vantage point, I have a perfect view of the shoot. Orlando is still in the ridiculously hot crop top, gracing the runway with untested charisma. His flexing arms, curly hair, and daring grin cursing me. He reminds me of my past. Old memories bloom:

High school, under the bleachers, stealing kisses from Grayson Smith. A closeted football player. His hands rough on my face, his lips fierce and urgent. We kissed as if the world was ending, for me, it felt like it was.

Crazy times in neon night clubs, my body pressed to a throwaway guy. Heat surging between us. The music booming my core. His grip on my waist, the taste of his breath.

A glimpse of Jasper. Chocolate skin, honey-colored eyes. His fast fingers playing a pianoforte in a smoky bar. His dreads falling in his face, his fingers of magic. His heavy eyes on mine. A lost love...which was my fault. I snap my eyes open, breathless.

Orlando leaves the set. He has the same honey-colored eyes as Jasper. Maybe that's why I'm so drawn to him. My mind spirals, spinning under an influence I haven't allowed in for years. Same sex attraction. No, I can't! I face away from the windows battling a natural urge as if it's a sin. It wasn't...I mean; it isn't. I correct my wording because I'm still that way, no matter how much I try to bury it.

If only life could have stayed the same. If only I was accepted and not made to hide.