CHAPTER1
MADISON
And it was go time! Bartender in the corner shining cocktail glasses: check. Hired wait staff filling trays with delectable appetizers: check. Dolce & Gabbana sleeveless sheer ruched dress (Steve’s favorite): check.
Just off of the kitchen was a long table with shiny silver platters displaying Wagyu Beef, Iberico Ham, Matsutake Mushrooms, Oysters, White Truffles, and balls.
Yes, balls. Everything was catered, but I’d invested in a fruit baller, and, well, I was addicted. On the bright side, I wasn’t addicted to cocaine, just beautifully balled fruit. Did I go overboard? Probably. But people love fruit balls.
“Excuse me.”
I spun around to see a waiter with Steve’s decadent two-tier birthday cake in his hands. It was a stunning blue marble design; The Cake Gallery in Rockbrook Village never failed me.
“Where should I put this?”
I felt hearts shooting from my eyes as I waved him towards a circular table near the other food, where he carefully placed the magical cake creation.
“This is just wonderful. Steve is going to flip.”
The waiter nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen.
I straightened Steve’s law school diploma on the wall as my gaze danced around his apartment. Stunning, of course; it looked and smelled like money with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the magnificent Manhattan skyline and the perfect cigar smoking or sex having balcony. Technically, we’d never had sex out there, but we kissed, so maybe the sex part would happen someday.
It’d been in his family for twenty or fifty years or something like that. Old money. Thank God he had the place gutted last year, and it’s now contemporary and sleek with an Architectural Digest flare, thanks to my fabulous selections and connections. After all, we’d be engaged before I knew it, I was certain, so I wanted to make sure it was perfect for the day I would move in.
The front door flew open, and Zoey shot in, looking like Chanel, which I could always spot a mile away. My sister was like Beth Dutton from Yellowstone minus the murders and all—a badass.
Her dress was perfect, with a plunging neckline and sleek silk hugging all the right places. Her auburn hair was a trendy, asymmetrical, chic bob, with her dangly diamond earrings topping off her perfect look. Her friends and some of her hook-ups were up-and-coming designers, so she was always getting amazing clothing and jewelry, making it appear as if she just hopped off a Paris runway.
Her eyes darted around the room as she shook her head. “He forgets your birthdaytwofucking years in a row and gets this?” She walked over and hugged me. “Lucky bastard.”
Yes, Zoey had a problem with “my-mind-only-thinks-of-my-career” Steve, so the fact that she was there helping me was the equivalent of her shouting, “I love you, Madison” from a mountain top.
She pulled back and eyed me up and down. “OMG, look at you! You got highlights and swoopy bangs today?” She fluffed my lightened brown hair, tucking a few stray strands in my up-do. “Absolutely stunning.” She pointed to my dress. “Is that Dolce & Gabbana?”
I nodded.
“That’s this season, some serious coin. Can I borrow that for the Dua Lipa party?”
“When is that?”
“Miami, two weeks.” Zoey made her way over to the bar. “Mom is going to flip when she hears I blew the budget out of the water.” Zoey pointed to the bottle of whiskey, and the bartender poured her a glass.
“The hotel has a huge budget. How’d you do that?”
She flashed a smile at the bartender and slurped a drink. “Hellooo? It’s Dua Lipa’s big birthday. Her people said they were deciding between Vegas or our hotel in Miami, so I pulled out all the stops. To keep the Magnolia Hotels relevant on social media, we need to keep hosting the big boys.”
My mom’s side of the family had known this long before there was a social media. I thought of the Grammy after parties and all the events even when I was a kid, and I knew Zoey was right, and so would my mother.
“How’s everything going for Justin Timberlake’s movie premiere party?” Zoey slammed the rest of her drink.
“Everything is locked down. I’m just thrilled to have over a week before I head to L.A. I need a little down time.” I’d literally been zipping between our New York and L.A. hotels over the past month, and I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. I would add physically, but I could still move my pinky toe, so not quite there yet.
Zoey gave me a side-eyed look. “You could come to Dad’s wedding with me.”
“Uh, that’s a hard no, thank you.”
“Come on; you have to get over this. Listen, I leave tomorrow morning for an event, and I’m just flying to Montana a few days before the wedding. What could a few days hurt? This could be an opportunity for you to get a step closer to rebuilding something with Dad.”
