The Devil Wears Black(15)
“I hope you don’t mind, but it’ll be a smaller event. We haven’t had much time to prepare since Ronan . . .” My mother trailed off, apologizing to Madison.
Madison shook her head almost hysterically. “No, no. I totally get it. The fact that you’re doing anything at all considering the circumstances is . . . ah . . .” She looked around herself. “Amazing, really.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll still be the belle of the ball.” I patted Madison’s shoulder, looking down at her with the warmth of a butter knife. I might or might not have watched several Hallmark movies in order to mimic a loving fiancé. As I’d been jogging on the treadmill. Real talk, the cardio was the only reason I hadn’t fallen asleep during the BS overload.
“You’re too kind.” Madison put her hand over mine on her shoulder, squeezing it in the hopes of breaking a few bones.
I bit back a smirk. “Never too kind for you.”
“Oh, stop it.” She smiled tightly. “Really,” she stressed.
Mom looked between us, basking in whatever she thought she was witnessing and clapping her hands together. “Look at you two!”
Although Madison did not do anything overtly bad to fuck things up, she was far from Oscar-worthy in the loving-fiancée department. She tucked her head down whenever she was asked a question that needed to be answered with a lie. Her cheeks were so beetroot red I thought her head was about to explode. And she regarded me with polite, fake enthusiasm, like I was bad macaroni art made by a particularly distracted child.
“Katie is dying to see you, and I don’t think you’ve met Julian, Chase’s older brother, and his wife, Amber, yet. They weren’t with us last Christmas. They celebrated with Amber’s family in Wisconsin,” Mom blabbed, snatching Madison’s hand and leading her into the house after ten painful minutes. “Clementine, their daughter, is such a peach.”
“Sounds fruity,” Mad squeaked, getting whisked away by Mom without sparing me another glance.
Sounds fruity. She’d actually said that. I’d been inside this woman at some point. What in the holy fuck had I been thinking?
Two uniformed employees materialized from the entrance, rushing to carry Madison’s suitcase. I directed them to the room we were going to share—yes, share—glancing at the golf cart by the Tesla. I entertained the idea of heading straight to the golf course to interrupt Julian and Dad, then thought better of it. I wasn’t some hysterical preteen begging to be included. Besides, I had to go upstairs and work the Madison angle. Prep her before she met the rest of the Black clan.
My father had the uncanny ability to see past bullshit and dissect situations and dynamics successfully. I wouldn’t put it past him to call me out on this engagement if he noticed my bride was contemplating murdering me with a steak knife. Yes, I decided. The crap with Julian could wait. It wasn’t like we were going to go for each other’s throat near Dad, anyway.
Reluctantly, I headed to our room on the left wing of the estate. The side reserved for immediate family. Julian and his family resided in the right wing. The official reason was because they needed more space. If it were three years ago, I’d have bought it. Not now, though. Now, Julian felt like an outsider through and through.
I found Madison caught in a mindless conversation with Katie and Mom in our room. Amber was probably taking a bubble bath somewhere in the mansion, trying the latest skin-care fad. Koala blood or turtle shit or whatever it was she smeared on her face to appear younger. The women in my family were still holding Madison’s hand hostage in turns, cooing at the engagement ring like it was a newborn. Clearing my throat, I stepped inside and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
The gesture didn’t feel familiar or pleasant. I’d never done it before, even when we were seeing each other. Madison had slim, narrow shoulders, something I’d never truly noticed before. It didn’t feel right, the weight of my entire arm on this woman. Other men obviously didn’t have partners Mad’s size, or they’d bury them completely. How I’d been able to be on top of this girl several times a week was a mystery to me. She looked so fragile standing next to me in that moment. I decided not to put the full weight of my arm on her shoulders, which resulted in my arm sort of hanging in the air an inch from her body. It was inconvenient, but she was tiny.
So tiny she couldn’t possibly count as an entire person.
I technically only had half an ex-girlfriend.
Just admit you had a fucking girlfriend, you full-size piece of shit.
“I was just asking Maddie how come we haven’t seen her for so long.” Katie turned to face me, fiddling with the pearls on her neck. She was tall for a woman, with long dark hair and an impeccably malnourished figure she liked to wrap in elegant dresses. She was the type of person to blend in with the furniture and take up as little space as possible. The opposite of small, olive-skinned, chatterbox Madison.
“You mean grilling her,” I corrected. I didn’t want my fake fiancée to be under unnecessary scrutiny. Her lying game was probably as weak as her fashion sense. Katie recoiled visibly, insulted by my dig, and I immediately felt like a douchebag. For all my resentment of romantic relationships, I was usually a decent human to my family.
“Thank you, Chase. I can take care of myself.” Madison smiled tightly.
And you might need to with the asexual fool you’re dating.