Page 19 of Check the Halls
Thank God Maddy texted me this morning because I was about to lose my shit. I’ve barely slept the last two nights waiting to hear from her. All I know is that she recommended me for this charity gig. But why? Did she have a change of heart and decide she does want to catch up? Or was she in a hard spot and needed an out? As much as I’d like to think otherwise, I’m aware that the latter is the more likely scenario.
I have no expectations for this meeting other than getting the answers I need. And maybe a bit of closure for the way we ended things?
We’re both adults. We’ve both moved on. At least, she has.
“Hi, Ben.” Maddy greets me at the reception desk as I walk in. Her fitted blazer and pencil skirt are a far cry from the jeans and oversized sweatshirts she used to wear and with her long hair pulled back in a neat low ponytail, she looks like the picture of professionalism.
And I feel like a sixteen-year-old boy again, trying not to get a hard-on in Political Science class.
“Hey,” I say, thrusting one of the cups out to her. “Thanks for making time to meet with me.”
Our fingers brush as she takes the cup, and I feel like tiny sparklers have been lit just under my skin. I could swear she feels it too, the way she quickly turns to lead me away.
I follow behind her trying to ignore how natural it feels to be near her. I also try not to stare at her ass as she enters her office. It’s not easy.
It’s hard to look at her and not remember what her body looked like beneath my hands. Her ass. Her breasts. Every inch of her.
She leads me into the sleek and modern room with high ceilings. The far wall is one huge window with a gorgeous view of downtown.
“Nice office,” I say, glancing around because it’s easier than looking at her.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I turn to her and can’t help but notice how her red hair almost glows in the sunlight.So beautiful,I think as I stare at her.“Yeah.”
She takes a seat behind her large desk and I sit in thechair across from her. It puts at least five feet between us, which is probably in everyone’s best interest.
When she glances curiously at the cup I handed her in the lobby, I know my opener. “It’s a Chai latte from a great coffee place near here. I know you don’t drink coffee in the afternoon. Or at least you didn’t.” I trail off.
She looks from me to the cup and her face softens. “I still don’t. Thank you. That’s really thoughtful.”
“It’s nothing,” I shrug. Because it is nothing. I remember everything about the woman sitting in front of me. And not just her beverages of choice. I remember her collection ofAlice’s Adventures in Wonderlandby Lewis Carol. She had more than a dozen different editions when we broke up. I remember how she likes to skate but is absolutely terrified of downhill skiing, certain she was going to break every bone in her body. She can’t stand hospitals ever since her dad died in one. Even trips to a doctor’s office make her queasy. She avoids conflict when she can, but she’s not a pushover. She prefers to work through big feelings on her own and hates, absolutely hates, crying in front of others, even those closest to her.
“Well, I appreciate it.” She takes a sip from the cup and my mouth goes dry as I watch her swallow. I take a drink from my own cup and beg myself to get it together. “So. In your text you said you have questions and concerns?”
“Right.” I set my coffee on the edge of her desk. Leaning forward, I rest my hands on my knees and study her carefully. “I guess my first question is why you wanted me in the first place?”
Maddy’s eyes widen like she’s startled and I rush tocontinue. “The woman who called me said you were the one who suggested me.”
“Yes, I was.”
She drops her gaze, fingers laced together on the desk, the soft drumming of her thumb against her knuckles the only movement. I give her a moment to gather her thoughts. When she finally meets my eyes again, there’s something steadier in her expression—resolve, maybe.
“This is my dream job. No, my dream organization.” Her voice is quiet but sure, the kind of certainty that comes from years of wanting something. “I’ve followed my boss, Chanda’s, career since I was in high school. I jumped at the opportunity to work here.” She exhales, shifting in her seat. “But I’m very new and I really want to do a good job.”
She hesitates, like she’s weighing how much to say, then squares her shoulders and presses on. “The guy we originally asked to be an ambassador didn’t work out and when they were looking at someone completely inappropriate for the job, I spoke up against the idea.”
I feel the tug of a smile pulling at my lips as I get a glimpse of the determined girl I once knew. That’s my Madness.
“But then all eyes were on me to come up with an alternative. It’s a charity for kids sports. I couldn’t think of someone better suited for the role.” Her expression turns sheepish. “And, to be honest, I don’t know that many people.”
“Fair enough.” I laugh and it eases the tension in the office.
“I want you to know how much I appreciate you agreeing to do this. Also, every year the ambassadors getto choose a children’s charity or organization they would like the fundraiser to supp?—”
“Big Buddies.” I didn’t mean to interrupt her, but I was too excited by the opportunity to hold back. “It’s a program that matches mentors with kids whose families need a bit of help. I’ve just started volunteering with them and would like to choose them.”
If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it, just smiles and nods. “That’s really wonderful of you, Ben.”
