Page 152 of Lovers' Dance

“Goodbye, Mum.” Matt didn’t stop. He stalked out of the mansion and got in his car, the screech of his tires as he sped out of there indicative of how he felt. If they were unwilling to accept her, then it was their problem. Madison DuMont was going to be his wife, regardless of who disagreed with it.

SIXTEEN

I WAS COUNTING down the days to my birthday. October 13th. At least it was on a Monday this year, and not a Friday. Being born on the thirteenth of any month sucked. You knew people were going to think you were the unluckiest person around whenever Black Friday came up.

Three days to go, not counting tonight. I sighed, gingerly bandaging my toes as I sat on the toilet and ignored the flashing light and vibration of my cell. I was a crap girlfriend. The past three weeks, Matt and I had been out on dates. No frigging sex. Honestly. Didn’t he know how hard it was for me? Matt was hot stuff, vanilla ecstasy, swirl-a-fucking-licious, finger-licking good. All I’d gotten at the end of each date when he walked me to my front door was a chaste peck on the lips and a sexy wink. Huh. Proper meanie he was.

Sex was the last thing on my mind now though. I wriggled my toes, stood up and took a few steps. The house phone started ringing and I sighed loudly, leaving the answering machine to pick up the call as I grabbed my cell and walked out of my bathroom.

I paused halfway down the stairs, catching the tail-end of the message.

“—issing you, poppet. Call me when you get this message.”

I’d been hoping Matt would be away on business, no such luck. It didn’t seem to matter if my birthday wasn’t Black Friday, I couldn’t catch a break.

Marie-Sol and Bret were flying in tonight, early morning really. Dante was coming over in an hour to accompany me on the drive to Heathrow. The Cayenne was now my new baby, and I was begrudgingly glad it had more than enough space to hold their suitcases and their persons. My Beetle had been sent to that oh-so-sad place where unfixable cars went.

I pottered about my terrace, tidying up any remaining mess, and generally not knowing what to do with myself. I was seated in my kitchen sipping coffee when my cell vibrated across the table. I sighed and picked it up.

“Hey, hon.”

“Poppet.” Matt breathed out in relief. “I’ve been trying to contact you all day.”

“I know. Sorry, things have been busy at the studio. Are you in your office?” I glanced at the digital clock on my stove. Nine fifteen pm. I knew the answer before he confirmed it.

“Unfortunately, yes. Listen, I’m planning on stopping by tonight. I should be out of here in the next thirty minutes, and I want to discuss what I have in store for your birthday.”

I stiffened on my seat. Darn it. Matt didn’t seem to pick up on my hints, or maybe he was ignoring them. He ignored things if they were contrary to his wants, totally understandable as he always got his way in the end.

Not this time though.

“I’m out tonight, Matt.”

There was a short pause. “I see. Where exactly will you be out tonight, poppet? I’m certain we didn’t have a date arranged, so I’m at a loss as to where you’re going and with whom.”

“I do have a life that doesn’t revolve around you,” I said dryly. Of late, that wasn’t the reality of my situation. My whole damned life seem to revolve around Matthew Bradley. We’d been on seven dates over the past three weeks. Four of those dates had been hijacked by the stupid paparazzi. How on earth they knew where we were? Neither Matt nor I could figure it out. All I knew was, on those four occasions when we left wherever we were, there would be the blinding flash of lights and questions about our romance being hurled in our direction as Matt hustled me into his car. I didn’t know how he lived his life being hounded by the media. I was undecided on how to feel about it intruding in my life.

“Whatever you say, poppet. Where are you going?”

“Heathrow Airport.”

Another pause, this one a bit longer. “May I ask why you’re going to Heathrow?”

“You may ask, but I can’t promise to answer.”

“You can’t sing and you’re not funny, poppet,” Matt crooned down the line. I smiled to myself as he asked why again.

“A couple of my friends are flying in. Didn’t I mention it to you before? I’m sure I did.” I hadn’t.

“It must have slipped your mind,” Matt replied with an undertone of something in his voice. He knew I hadn’t mentioned it before, but he was letting it go.Will wonders never cease?

“Yeah, totally slipped my mind,” I drawled. “It’s going to be a manic weekend for me. Did I mention they were staying at mine?”

Matt exhaled down the line. “I don’t see how you could when you forgot to mention they were coming, Madison.”

Complete first name…someone was getting irritated. Maybe if I caused a major fight that would last for a week…yes, yes. Why didn’t I think of this before? Because my levels of bat-shit craziness had been on a steady decline the more time I spent with Matt. He was having an almost calming effect on me. Time to get my levels back up. Normal women didn’t do this, did they? Pick a fight with their honey-bears in order to avoid seeing them around their birthdays?Maybe they did.

“Matt, you’re smothering me.” My tone was sharp, but my face twisted with guilt. Please let this be one of my ‘good’ bad ideas.

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