What a Girl Wants (36 page)

“Oh, honey,” Felicia all but wailed and padded to the living room. “I don’t want your pity.”

Maddie bit back a loud
“For cripessake”
as she followed Felicia. “We agreed we’d work on a new relationship.” She took a wrapped candy from the crystal bowl on the marble coffee table and sat on the arm of the dusty rose sofa. “I’m here. Let’s talk about it.”

“You said small steps. I’m using them all up now.”

Maddie weaved the candy in between her fingers. “You’ll know when you run out of tokens.”

Felicia wiped her eyes. “Edmund dropped by last week…when I got back. He said he wants us to get back together. The next morning I received a phone call from Maxwell. He’ll be in New York on his way back from Ireland next month. He asked me out to dinner.” She looked up at the ceiling and blew out a breath. “It could never be a casual dinner with him. Then the other day, I bumped into James.” She stopped and looked at Maddie, who lifted her brows. “Okay, I didn’t bump into him. I heard about his art exhibit, so I went.” She paced across the living room. “He…James…said he’d been thinking about me, about us.”

The more things changed, the more they remained the same, Maddie thought. “Okay, one man at a time.” She rubbed her forehead. “James? Where did you leave it?”

“At the gallery. I walked away.”

Maddie let out a sigh of relief. James epitomized the word “toxic”. “Eddy? Maxwell?”

 “
Edmund
. Told him I’m not interested. Maxwell. I told him I wasn’t ready—if ever—to pick up where we left off. I turned down the invitation.”

Maddie jumped up. “There you go. You should be proud of yourself. I am.”

“Don’t praise me, I don’t deserve it yet.” Her face reddened, a brighter shade this time. “I composed three letters, but didn’t send them. One for each man. I was going to send them to see which stuck.” She paced again. “I know. I’m pathetic. I want someone in my life. I want love—”

“You have to know who you are, have an understanding of your own issues, before you can involve someone else in your life.” Damn. Maddie realized that advice could also be applied to her. “I think it’s time you got professional help. These episodes and this cycle will never end if you jump into an old or new relationship.”

“Telling you about my past helped me a lot.”

“It’s not enough to talk to me.” Maddie threw the candy back in the bowl. “You need counseling to help you deal with the abuse you went through. I’m not a professional. You need someone who specializes in your challenges.”

“Are you saying I’m unbalanced? That I need a shrink?”

Maddie grinned. “I’ll make sure you get an
haute couture
straitjacket.”

Her mother cracked a shadow of a smile. Maddie continued, “Seriously, though. You need someone who can help you deal with your fears about being alone. And to help you understand why you’re attracted to fixer-uppers so you can avoid them.”

Felicia worried the mother-of-pearl ring around her finger. “I don’t know. How can a stranger understand? You…you’ve always had it together. You can teach me how to be alone—”

“Not a good idea.” Maddie sat on the sofa and crossed her leg so she could rest her aching elbow on her thigh. “We’d fall back into our old pattern of me telling you what to do and getting frustrated when you didn’t do it. And you getting irritated with me. We’d argue too much—”

“We’ve gotten past that and you’re selling yourself short. You’ve been plenty patient—”

“I’m keeping it real and honest. I know I’d get frustrated.” She leaned forward. “You need an unbiased professional who can help you with this serious addiction.”

Her mother’s brows mashed together in confusion. “What do you mean? Addiction?”

“To relationships
¾
even bad ones.”

Felicia rubbed her temples. “Okay, you may be right.” Her eyes glistened, but there was hope behind them. “Will you help me find a counselor?”

“Sure, I can do some research.”

Maddie’s phone sang its tune. She glanced at her cell phone’s display. Reece was calling, probably to gossip about the weekend.

Felicia’s lips curved into an angst-free smile. Drama over. One thing about Felicia Maddie admired, she was able to switch gears quickly. Felicia pointed to Maddie’s phone. “Still wish Mary Richards was your mother?”

Maddie blushed. “Umm, you knew?”

She laughed. “Honey, you told me to sit and watch so Mary could rub off on me.”

“See, a professional would never suggest a TV role model for you.”

Maddie increased the volume on her phone. “This is
your
song.” She smiled at Felicia. “You’re going to be fine.”

Maddie stood in the doorway of her kitchen, watching Alex whistling to a Springsteen tune as he stirred red wine into a pot of tomato sauce. After returning from Felicia’s, she had showered and changed into Alex’s Yankee sweatshirt and her plaid lounging pants.

He looked like he’d stepped off of a Calvin Klein billboard, sporting a five o’clock shadow, faded jeans, and a black button-down shirt, untucked, the sleeves rolled up. The man could give a comatose woman tingles.

She walked into the kitchen. “Smells delicious.” He held a spoon of sauce to her mouth. “Mmmm.” She licked her lips. “Now all you need is a pastry brush, a white apron, and I’m a goner.”

He put the wooden spoon down, wrapped his arm around her waist and dipped her. His gaze, filled with unabashed desire, stopped her heart. “
You
look delicious.” He then gave her one of his eyes-rolling-to-the-back-of-the-head kisses. “Still think I need an apron?”

She fought back tears. Soon they would have to talk
¾
time was running out. Smoothing her hand down the side of his face, she pressed it on his lips and closed her eyes as he kissed each of her fingers. “I love you, Alexander Donovan.”

He nuzzled her neck. “I’m nuts about you, Maddie Saunders.” He raised her back up.

“And in a lot of different languages, too.” Her short laugh escaped with a tremble.

Caressing her shoulders, his brows furrowed. “You okay?”

“I’m good. Just a bit tired.” Stepping out of his embrace, she opened the fridge door. The coolness helped her gain composure. “Did the Veggie Fairy come visit?”

He peered over her shoulder inside the fridge, chuckling. “Look at that.” Tapping her butt, he removed her hand from the box marked Ferrara’s Café. “That’s for later. Go sit.”

She grabbed a bottle of water, closed the stocked-with-too-much-healthy-food fridge, went to the living room and sat on the swivel rocker.

“Should be ready in half an hour,” he said.

“Uh-huh.” She rocked on the chair, staring at the bottled water as if the answers to why she was struggling so much with the decision to pack up and relocate would magically appear. “Yeah, that’s fine. No hurry.”

“Is that bottle a suspense, mystery or thriller?” he asked.

“It’s good.”

“Should we invite the green giraffe hanging out on your balcony to dinner?”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“Want me to add sushi to the spaghetti sauce?”

She twirled the chair around and closed her eyes. “Huh? Oh yeah, sounds good.”

Her eyes flew open when her chair swung around. Alex was bent over, face to face with her, his hands on either side of the chair. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

She reached out and played with the third button on his shirt. “Nothing? Why?”

“Green giraffe? Sushi?”

Her eye sockets burned with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”

Taking her hand, he eased her up into his arms. “You know, this is one of those times when I can get inside your head.”

She sighed a smile. “Scary stuff, huh?”

“Not scary.” He smoothed his palm up and down her back. “Confused and tired, though.” He stared at her for several pounding heartbeats, then pulled her closer and lay his cheek on top of her head. “You’re not coming to England, are you?”

With her face pressed hard against his chest, she could only shrug.

He guided her to the sofa, sat, pulled her down beside him and placed his arm across her shoulders. “We’ve been avoiding this discussion—”

“Me more than you.” She laid her head back on his arm and closed her eyes.

He gave her a gentle peck on the side of her mouth. “Talk to me.”

She opened her eyes and laced her hand through his. “I told Felicia this afternoon she needed to figure out who she was, understand her own issues, before involving someone else in her life.”

“Sounds like good advice.”

“I should take my own advice.” She rubbed her forehead. “I sure as hell have enough kinks in my own life.”

He kissed her temple. “I love your kinks.”

She smiled in spite of the heaviness settling in her chest. “You’re brave. Especially after the shower, the golf course.” Shaking her head, she let out a sigh. “So frickin’ lame, trying to get you to notice me. You must have thought I was crazy—”

“I’ve
always
noticed you.” His low chuckle next to her ear warmed her. “And I’ve always thought you were crazy.” His voice was tender. “Even without Hawaii, our friendship would have eventually brought us to where we are now.”

Her throat thickened. “You’re going to be so busy in England. I’ll be in the way.”

“First few months are going to be hectic. I
will
make time for us.” He nodded. “I wouldn’t suggest you come with me if I didn’t know you could handle it. And I like you in my way.”

“I need to figure out what I’m going to do with my career.” She lifted her injured elbow. “Obviously, I can’t hop on a snowboard, ski or rock climb.”

“You can work with me—”

“You know I won’t let you create a position for me.” He nodded and didn’t argue. “I may look into teaching night school and pick up a few newspaper editorial contracts.”

“I’m sure there are students and articles that could use your magic touch in London.”

“What about this apartment?”

“Sublet.”

“Now that I know it’s yours, I can’t let
anybody
live here.”

“I can afford to leave it empty until someone you approve of comes along.”

“Felicia’s agreed to see a therapist. I told her I’d help her find one. It’s a big step for her. She’ll need a lot of support. My support.”

“You’ve always been a good daughter.”

She stared at their clasped hands. “I have my moments.”

“Take as much time as you need with her.” He got up and sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing her. “Maddie, what’s really stopping you from joining me?”

Running a hand through her hair, she sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not sure.” She got up and walked to the window. “After our relationship changed, I thought that when we left Hawaii and came back home we wouldn’t fit into each other’s lives or worse we’d be awkward around each other. But we do fit. I haven’t felt or sensed any awkwardness. I feel even closer to you, and have even more love for you.”

He got up and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I knew one day you’d fall hard for some guy,” he said next to her ear. “I wanted that guy to be me.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in his wonderful scent. When she opened them she looked down on the moonlit park below, staring at the bench where she’d sit to read or people watch. The lights from Pete’s Tavern—a quaint pub where she’d had dinner with Alex and his sisters on the weekend—could be seen from her apartment.

She thought how Alex never looked out of place in this apartment with her—taking one of his power naps on her sofa, helping her paint the tiny bathroom a bright orange or cooking in her kitchen. She had invited a few of her past dates in, but they’d never stayed long, and she hadn’t liked how they filled her space.

She loved Alex and Alex loved her.

So why was she struggling about moving with him?

She couldn’t understand it, until that moment, when the answer came to her. Turning around to face him, a few tears escaped her eyes.

As adaptable and flexible as she was, when it came to their relationship she wanted what she’d had with him all these years—with the addition of their commitment and love—to remain the same. “I know what’s been holding me back. You, the few friends I’ve made, this apartment, the neighbors, have been the only constants I’ve ever had. In my whole life, all of you and this place are the only things I could rely on to stay the same. I’ve planted roots, I guess.”

She searched his face to see if he understood.

He nodded and brushed away her tears with his thumbs. “This is your home.”

“I know it sounds bizarre, given that I’ve had a crazy travel schedule—”

“This place represents stability and normalcy.”

She hugged her arms, nodding. “I still need to come to terms with my family situation. I know she’s an adult, but I’ve taken care of Felicia for so long and I want to make sure she’s settled in with a good therapist. If I left now, it would feel like I was running away from dealing with her
¾
and with myself.”

From the warmth of his gaze, she knew Alex totally understood. “I’m still coping with the aftermath of learning how I was conceived. I’m not angry and I meant it when I said I was grateful to Felicia and her donor but there is stuff to work out. I’ve caught myself staring at strangers on the subway, in coffee shops—people who resemble me, or talk with their hands like I do
¾
and I wonder if they were also conceived at that hospital, or if we’re related. I know it sounds nuts, but that’s what goes through my mind now. I’m not obsessed with this. I’ve accepted the fact that I’ll never know my father or get answers—”

“I can arrange to postpone my start date in London and help you get through this—”

She shook her head. “It’s something I have to work out by myself. I’m not going to wallow in it or let it take on a life of its own, but I need to be proactive and talk to others who have been through this.”

She knew she could count on him and if she asked he would rearrange his life to be with her. But that wasn’t what they were all about. She needed him to know she could handle things on her own and get over what she’d been through.

“I’m going to register with a Donor-Conceived Offspring group and blog with other people who were conceived through a clinic. They have a lot of good resource material, too.”