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Page 10 of Smuggler’s Cove (Twin Lights #1)

Chapter Three

Madison

M adison Taylor grew up surrounded by wealth and had little idea about the world outside of her safe and privileged orbit.

Her friends were hand-picked by her parents, as were her clothes, her school, and her activities.

She was to learn how to play the piano, take ballet lessons, and when old enough, tennis and skiing were on her list.

Madison was a happy child, and she enjoyed the many luxuries that were afforded to her.

Her father enrolled her in a preschool when she was three.

She made friends, but her favorite playmate was Olivia Martinez.

She was the daughter of Sandra, Gwen’s best friend.

Jackson wasn’t thrilled with the idea that his daughter was keeping company with someone whose mother married “the guy from the mailroom.” Gwen suggested Jackson could help the Martinez family with a retirement fund.

“There’s a one-hundred-thousand-dollar buy-in to be a client,” he scoffed. “I doubt he has that kind of money.”

“But they’re our friends,” Gwen persisted.

“They’re your friends, Gwen.” For Jackson, everything was a transaction, including friendship.

He saw no value unless it elevated him financially or socially.

As far as he was concerned, Sandra’s family offered neither, forcing Gwen to do a work-around so she and her daughter could keep their best friends in their life.

Gwen was not going to allow Jackson to interfere in her relationship with Sandra, or Madison’s with Olivia.

Gwen would plan outings in places where running into her husband was remote.

Gwen and Madison had their own little secret they promised each other in a pinky-swear.

Gwen may have surrendered to the trappings of the rich, but she still had integrity and loyalty, something that had faded from her husband.

She wondered if he had either at any point in time.

* * *

In a few short years, Jackson had turned into an elitist snob, determined to insinuate himself into the old-money crowd.

But the facade wore thin. After a year, most of the neighbors realized he was too slick for their style.

He loved to flash his money around. Jackson never missed an opportunity to quote the price of something he recently purchased.

As far as they were concerned, he was the personification of the word gauche .

They had no qualms regarding Gwen. She was a good sort, and a good mother, but Jackson Taylor was insufferable.

It was equally tedious for Gwen, and she began to distance herself from him as much as she could.

* * *

When Madison completed kindergarten, her father planned a lavish party at the Waldorf Astoria.

He invited all of Madison’s schoolmates and their parents.

It was over the top, with an invitation list hovering around one hundred guests.

Gwen wanted to have a simple gathering at their house, but Jackson needed a grand excuse to garner more clients, so he created an opportunity.

He had his assistant make the necessary arrangements and left Gwen out of all the decisions.

Jackson insisted it was to keep the details off her plate, but Gwen knew he was disingenuous.

He simply wanted control, and no feedback from her.

It cost tens of thousands of dollars, complete with a basketball arcade game, a scavenger hunt, ring-toss, and clowns.

But when the men with the painted faces, goofy hair, and red noses arrived, Madison freaked out.

She ran from the grand ballroom, shrieking in fear.

Gwen ran after her. Madison was hysterical.

She could barely get the words out between sobs: “Mommy! Mommy! I’m scared!

I’m scared! Please make them go away!” Gwen did her best to calm her child as Jackson stood in the doorway with a look of contempt, spun on his heel, and returned to his guests.

Had he known his daughter better, he could have avoided the scene, yet he chose to be angry at his wife and child instead.

Gwen assured Madison that the clowns were nothing to be afraid of and coaxed her back into the room.

But Madison did not leave her mother’s side for the rest of the afternoon.

She clung to Gwen’s Chanel suit while dozens of children played games, the adults drank champagne, and Jackson ingratiated himself to the other wealthy parents.

Madison showed no interest in the pile of blue boxes from Tiffany, given by her father’s business associates. That was another thing that irked Jackson. He expected his daughter to squeal with delight, not scream at the top of her lungs.

When the party was over, and they returned to their apartment, Jackson announced that Madison would be going to the Hackley School in Tarrytown the following year. As soon as Lincoln was old enough, he would join her.

Madison wasn’t sure what all of it meant. “What’s boarding school, Mommy?” she asked.

“It’s a school where you live.” Gwen’s eyes darted at her husband, who remained mute. She was baffled. This was the first time she’d heard of Jackson’s educational plans for her children.

“Are we going to move?” Madison asked innocently.

“No, sweetheart. We will still be here.”

“But will you be coming with me?”

“No, honey. Daddy, Lincoln, and I will be staying home.”

“But why?” The child was totally confused.

“Because your daddy wants you to get the best education.”

“But Mrs. Crowder said I was really good. I can even read books!” From the time Madison was two, Gwen shared her interest in books with her daughter, and Madison was light years ahead of her peers.

“And you are really good, but this new school will make you even better. And they have drawing classes, too. You love to draw.” She gave her daughter a reassuring hug and glared at Jackson. “You are going to have a wonderful adventure. I promise.”

The sound of Lincoln chattering in the hallway broke the mood. Mrs. Braun was walking the four-year old into the grand living room. He yelped and ran toward his mother and sister as if his father weren’t there, which was usually the case.

Madison loved her little brother and fawned over him.

She wasn’t sure what this boarding school thing was, but if Lincoln was going to be attending, then it would not be too bad.

She wasn’t sure why her father was sending her away.

Regardless of her mother’s words of comfort, it really appeared that way.

It wasn’t as if she felt unloved, but when it came to her father, her young perception made it seem she was more of an accessory than a darling daughter.

* * *

The summer before she was sent off to school, Madison began piano, ballet, and tennis lessons.

She wished she could play with her friends, but her father insisted she be ready for school.

He explained there would be a lot of other children who have talent, and she had to be the best. “You want me to be proud of you, don’t you?

” Jackson asked, but Madison knew it was more for himself than for her benefit.

Madison proved to be a very astute six-year-old.

It was a talent that would serve her later on in life.

When Madison wasn’t practicing, she would look through the piles of her mother’s fashion magazines.

She would occasionally ask her mother if she could play dress-up.

Gwen would find something from her vast wardrobe that she no longer wore so that it wouldn’t be a disaster if Madison ruined it.

But Madison showed an appreciation for the workmanship, fancy buttons, and piping.

She also had a closet full of dolls, each with their own wardrobe.

Madison would often change outfits, creating her own fashion show.

One afternoon Gwen came home with a shopping bag from New York Central Art Supplies.

She called Madison into the kitchen. “I have a new project for you,” she said, and smiled at her daughter.

Madison wasn’t sure if it was good news or bad news.

She barely had time for all her lessons and tutoring.

Jackson was adamant that Madison be ahead of the other students at the new private school and scheduled her from the minute she finished her breakfast until dinner.

She knitted her eyebrows and looked up at her mother.

“Go get some of the magazines you like. The ones with the clothes and pocketbooks.”

Madison didn’t ask why and went into the area that had been designated as their playroom.

She picked three of her favorites— Vogue, Town & Country, and Harper’s Bazaar —and skipped back to the kitchen.

On the table were scissors, paste, and cardboard.

“We’re going to make what is called a collage.

It’s when you get a bunch of pictures with a similar theme, like clothes, and you paste them to make a poster.

” Gwen pulled out a chair. “Come. Let’s make one together. ”

Madison was captivated with this new craft, and the word. “Colarge?”

“It’s collage . No ‘r’.” She winked at Madison.

The two began sifting through the pages. “When you see something you like, tear out the page,” Gwen instructed her.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Madison was leery about ruining anything that belonged to an adult.

“Of course. They’re my magazines, and I’m sharing them with you.” She handed Madison a pair of safety scissors.

They sat quietly while Madison carefully went through the glossy photos. “I like this one, Mommy.” She pointed to a hot pink and black color-block dress with black and gold buttons. “But I don’t like her earrings.”

“If you’re careful, you can cut them out of the picture.”

“Really?” Madison’s eyes went wide.

“Yes. You can do whatever you want.”

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