Page 4 of Mr. Winter
With Old Man Winters gone, I decided to put a different spin on the Christmas festivities. One is to give the men different titles for events. Also, I’m pretty excited about the bachelor auction we’re having this year. Mr. Christmas is off the table. I retired it with Mr. Winters. He answers the phone with his grouch on high and asks me what I want.
“You at the Fairhope-Winters’ Christmas fundraiser gala as Mr. Mistletoe. This is your year, Hiram.”
I call him by his middle name because he’s always using some variation of mine. I’m damn near done getting dressed when Mack bursts into my room like we’re fucking. I roll my eyes as he chimes in on our conversation.
Plopping down on my room’s couch, I opt to take a moment to finish this conversation. Mack joins me and puts his socked feet in my lap like he’s my woman, while Deacon talks shit on speaker phone.
Once Mack threatens to leak a lie about Deacon, he retaliates by teasing Mack for being the lawyer who didn’t get Imala Sinclair. I get Deacon on board after admitting I owe him one. I may have sold my soul to him, but that’s one more thing I can check off my list.
The other big bastard disappears, and I don’t realize his hungry ass is gone until he texts me.
Mack: You’re still in your room. I’m ordering in ten minutes whether you’re here or not.
I flick him off in the cameras because I know he can still see me. I don’t know why I agreed to have breakfast with a madman. Now that I’m alone with my thoughts again, my mind goes back to wondering how Jack would be in Mr. Winters’ place. I wish he was as jovial as his grandfather. Pushing thoughts of Jack to the side, I opt to believe that these dreams were triggered by my break up. I refuse to give either man any more of my headspace.
Once I don the blazer of my black pantsuit combo, with a teal power shirt underneath and double-check my make up, I look in the mirror and vow to myself that I’ll purge Jack from my system once and for all.
* * *
Maverick “Mack”Fairhope leans his extra-long, six-feet four-inch, body on the table as he sips his coffee. The asshole, who has probably been awake for hours although it’s only 7:30 like his damn brother, looks happy to see me like he didn’t just leave my house. He winks at me like we’re lovers, and I swear that asshole knows why it bothers me. My family, the Voss family, has been marred with a rumor many many moons ago about my great-great-grandmother Evaline being Mr. Fairhope’s mistress. According to legend, she’d gotten her millions by being his kept woman and having his secret child. No part of either of our families can find truth to that claim.
If you ask me, I think they were hating on a black woman having her own money. Either way, she eventually married my great-great-grandfather—Duke and started our lineage on Fairhope. The Voss family isn’t as affluent as the Fairhope and Winters families, but we can hold our own.
My friendship with Mack and Deacon had me cussing a few people out since they thought it was funny to suggest that I’m the new Evaline.
Tha fuck?
In high school, I knocked a girl out behind that bullshit and the tongues started wagging out of my presence.
“Look, MF, don’t play with me today, Sir.”
“Oh, someone is cranky,” Mack teases with his blue eyes sparkling. “And stop using my initials as a cuss word, Audio Visual.”
I kiss the big fucker on his cheek and sit down anyway. “Ha. Ha. Very funny. Arden Voss and not Audio Visual, bitch.”
He chuckles as the server puts our plates on the table. I already knew he’d order for me.
“Tell me, my favorite side-chick, are you having those dreams again? Does teenage Jack have you hot and bothered?”
He grabs the hot maple syrup and pours it over most of the items on his plate. This used to make me cringe, but I’m used to it by now. Besides, it’s not hurting his swimmer's body not one bit.
“First of all, Arden Elisabeth Voss will never be anyone’s side chick. Second, I’m like never confiding in you again.”
He rubs my shoulder and gives me one of his signature smiles. He really is a sweetheart hiding inside an asshole.
“Yes, you will. Seriously, why do you think you’re having so many now? Is he on your mind lately or are you finally hyping yourself up to solve the Winters’ secret heir mystery?”
Grabbing my fork, I dig into my omelette for some thinking time. It’s been irking me to find out what asshole never leaves the mansion to get to know his new neighbors. With Willie Tucker finally finding his balls and proposing to Amylee, I’m short one bachelor. It’s time for this dude to take his damn place. Breaking, I tell Mack the one thing that’s been bothering me.
“I still don’t know why or how he left, Mack. It bothers me. Also, it could be easier than focusing on my ex-shit. I have so much to finish before Christmas and I need to get that mystery asshole in gear.”
He nods while he chews on what may be half of his waffle. “I get that. He was our friend too. I’m just happy that he’s alive somewhere. I wish he would have come back at least for the funeral. You want me to try to find him? Would it make you feel better if he didn’t grow up attractive? And, I can still beat your ex’s ass. Just say the word.
It’s my turn to laugh. “I don’t think it’s possible for him to have grown up unattractive. I would like closure though. You know? His disappearance was our biggest mystery until that asshole moved in last year.”
I steal a sticky piece of bacon from his plate—it’s not really stealing since he knows I’ll do it and has ordered accordingly.
“And the ex?”
