Madison
The private flight back to New York passed in a blur of champagne and Alexander’s wandering hands.
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1 sank into my plush couch, finally home after the whirlwind Vegas trip. My body still tingled from Alexander’s touch, and I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off my face.
“Get it together, Madison,” I muttered, but my reflection in the mirror just smirked back.
I stripped off my clothes, leaving a trail to the bathroom. The hot shower felt divine against my muscles, sore in all the right places. Steam filled the room as I hummed some cheesy love song I’d normally roll my eyes at.
I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and caught sight of the dark marks scattered across my collarbone. “Really, Alexander?” I traced one with my finger, torn between annoyance and a secret thrill.
My phone buzzed from somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes. Probably Hazel, ready to grill me about Vegas. I’d promised to meet her at the hospital to visit Mom today.
I blow–dried my hair, trying and failing to tame the waves Alexander loved to tangle his fingers in. The memory made me drop the brush with a clatter.
“Focus, Madison. Mom. Hospital. Hazel. No more Alexander thoughts.”
My closet offered its usual selection of work–appropriate attire. I pulled on a high–necked blouse–thank God for turtlenecks- and paired it with slim black pants. Professional daughter mode: activated.
The hospital’s familiar antiseptic smell hit me as I pushed through the rotating doors.
I headed for the elevator bank, my heels clicking against the polished floor. A group of nurses huddled around their station, comparing notes and trading whispered gossip. One of them caught my eye and waved – I’d been here enough times to become a regular fixture.
“Madison!” Hazel’s voice echoed through the lobby. She stood by the elevators, tapping her foot with mock impatience. “I just got here. Perfect timing.”
“Hey!” I pulled her into a quick hug. “How long have you been waiting?”
“Like two minutes. I was about to text you.” She jabbed the up button, then did a double–take at my outfit. “Hold up. Are those the new Saint Laurent pants I saw in Vogue?” Her eyes narrowed as she studied my ensemble. “And that blouse is that Burberry?
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I forced a casual laugh, tugging at my sleeve. “You think I can afford that on my salary? They’re knockoffs from that place downtown.” The lie rolled off my tongue easier each time I told it. “Pretty good ones, though, right?”
“Damn, I need the address of your fake designer spot. These look real as hell.”
The elevator dinged, and we stepped inside. Hazel was still eyeing my clothes as if she might find a designer tag if she stared hard enough.
“Trust me, if I could afford the real thing, I wouldn’t take the subway to work.”
“Well, knockoff or not, you’re looking fancy these days.” She bumped my shoulder with hers. “Moving up in the world.”
If she only knew. I pressed the button for Mom’s floor and kept my mouth shut, letting Hazel ramble about her latest Tinder disaster.
Hazel’s latest dating mishap involved a guy who claimed to be a venture capitalist but turned out to be living in his mom’s basement. “And then he had the nerve to ask me to split the check after ordering the most expensive wine!”
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The elevator doors opened, and I stifled a laugh. “At least he didn’t bring his mom along.”
“Don’t give me flashbacks to Trevor from last month.”
We rounded the corner to Mom’s room, and I caught sight of her through the doorway, completely absorbed in what looked like a steamy paperback. Her glasses had slipped down her nose, and she was biting her lower lip in concentration.
“Mom!” I called out, trying not to startle her.
She jumped anyway, hastily stuffing the book under her blanket. “Madison! Sweetie!” Her cheeks flushed pink as she adjusted her glasses. “I was just, um, doing some light reading.”
“Light reading?” Hazel snorted. “That’s what we’re calling ‘The Duke’s Forbidden Desire‘ these days?”
I shot Hazel a look, but Mom just laughed. “Don’t judge until you’ve read chapter seven. That Duke knows his way around a-”
“Mom!” I felt my face heating up. “Maybe we keep the Duke’s talents to yourself?”
“Oh, please. You’re not twelve anymore.” She patted the bed beside her. “Come sit with me. Tell me about your trip.”
Hazel collapsed into the visitor’s chair, barely containing her giggles. I perched on the edge of the bed, wondering if the universe was trying to torture me.
“Business trip. Work.” I shrugged, aiming for casual. “Same as always.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Always work.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her persistence. “What about you? How are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’m good, honey. Just a little bored, to be honest. It’s all TV and books in here.” She adjusted her glasses and gave me a playful look. “What about Vegas? Did you get to see the sights? Meet any interesting people?”
I fiddled with the edge of her blanket. “Not really. Mostly stuck in meetings about the new development project. Spreadsheets and blueprints don’t leave much time for fun.”
“Oh, come on,” Hazel groaned. “You were in Sin City, and all you did was work?”
I smiled, remembering the casino floor. “I did try my hand at blackjack. Actually, won a decent amount.”
I twisted a strand of hair around my finger, hoping they wouldn’t press for details about exactly how much – or who taught me.
“Ooh, did you take any pictures?” Mom shifted in her bed, eyes lighting up. “I want to see everything! The fountains, the lights…
“1
“The hot pool boys?” Hazel chimed in with a wink.
I rolled my eyes but pulled out my phone, relieved I’d had the presence of mind to snap some tourist shots between other activities. “Here’s the Bellagio fountains at night.”
“Oh, those colors!” Mom leaned closer to the screen. “Remember when I went for my fiftieth birthday? I must have watched that show five times.”
I swiped to the next photo. “The view from my hotel room.”
“Damn girl, that’s not the Motel 6.” Hazel grabbed the phone. “Look at that pool! Why didn’t you tell me you were staying somewhere fancy?”
“Company trip,” I mumbled, snatching my phone back before she could scroll too far. “Here’s me at the High Roller observation wheel.”
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“You went up alone?” Mom frowned. “I thought you were afraid of heights.”
“1, uh, had a few drinks first.” I quickly moved to the next picture – me posing with a showgirl on Fremont Street. Her feathers were bigger than my whole body.
“Now that’s what Vegas is about!” Hazel whooped. “Did you see any shows?”
“Just walked past them.” I showed them shots of the neon signs, carefully curated to exclude any trace of Alexander. No hint of his arm around my waist at the Venetian. No evidence of his kisses in the elevator. Definitely no photos of that private cabin.
“The Strip looks exactly the same,” Mom mused. “Though I never made it to that fancy Japanese restaurant you got a picture of.
“Neither did I,” I admitted. “Just thought the entrance was pretty.”
“You went to Vegas and didn’t even treat yourself to one nice dinner?” Hazel shook her head. “Madison Harper, you are the most boring business traveler ever.”
If she only knew about the private chef at the cabin… “I was working! Besides, room service was perfectly fine.”
“Room service,” Hazel scoffed. “Next time, I’m coming with you. Show you how to Vegas properly.”
“Like that time you lost your shoes and ended up wearing flip–flops from the gift shop?” Mom teased.
“Hey! Those were three hundred–dollar heels. I still think someone stole them while I was in the pool.”
“Sure, blame the mysterious shoe thief.” Mom patted my hand. “At least my Madison keeps her footwear intact.”
I forced a laugh, remembering exactly where I’d left my favorite pumps in Alexander’s suite. “Yeah, all shoes accounted for.”
The nurse poked her head in, clipboard in hand. “Time for your afternoon meds, Mrs. Harper.”
“Already?” Mom sighed. “But Madison was just about to show us more pictures.”
“That’s actually all I took.” I stood up, grateful for the interruption. “We should let you rest anyway.”
“Fine, abandon your mother for whatever hot date you clearly have planned.” She gestured at my outfit with a knowing smile.
“It’s just a normal day, Mom.” I kissed her cheek. “No hot dates, I promise.”
“Mhmm.” She didn’t look convinced. “Just remember, what happens in Vegas…”
“Stays in Vegas!” Hazel finished with a laugh. “Except apparently, when it comes to Madison. Most boring Vegas story ever.”
If they only knew. I smiled and waved goodbye, my secrets safely hidden behind carefully chosen photos and half–truths.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.