Page 24 of Smuggler’s Cove (Twin Lights #1)

Chapter Eight

Moving Ahead

W hen Madison began to make over six figures, she decided she could afford to exchange her small Hell’s Kitchen studio for something more spacious.

She had no desire to move back to something like Sutton Place.

Too pricey, too snotty, too bougie. But when she heard Tyler was moving out of his loft in Tribeca, she thought it would be perfect.

Fifteen hundred square feet of space, where she and her cats would have their own bathrooms; she could stretch her arms without hitting a wall.

Situated in a desirable part of the city, it was a quick subway ride to her office, or she could take a nice, slow thirty-five-minute walk to work, weather permitting.

Her loft was also an easy forty-minute subway ride to her brother’s. At this point in her life, she appreciated how to spend her hard-earned money. Limos or town cars were no longer an option unless it was a gala. Except for the occasional taxi, buses were more her style now.

The next few years were quiet. Routine. Gwen visited during the holidays, and Madison and Olivia took turns hosting their dinners. Life was steady. Peaceful.

Madison had a few boyfriends over the years, but none of them were able to hold her interest. She had an excellent job, an active social life, and a cool apartment. She also managed to dodge any references to her past.

Now in her late-forties, Madison had meticulously reinvented herself. She had to admit, keeping up a front was often exhausting. Her only confidantes were her brother and Olivia, and of course, her mother.

Around the same time, Olivia was in burnout mode from the strife and horrors of the abuse she observed at the shelter.

Giada was in college, and Olivia needed a change.

Madison’s assistant was promoted, leaving an opening in Madison’s office, and she offered Olivia the job.

“I know I can be riding my broom a lot, but you know me better than anyone. Please say yes.”

Madison’s reputation was that of a tough but fair boss.

She expected people to do their job, but she was not without compassion, and she would keep things highly confidential if anyone were in a bad situation.

It was an easy decision for Olivia. She and her best friend/sister-in-law would be a team.

Madison was overjoyed to have Olivia working with her.

She knew she was a hard worker, but more than that, she knew she could trust her with her life.

Madison was fiercely loyal, and she expected people to treat her the same way.

If you wanted to see hellfire and brimstone, just cross Madison with betrayal.

If there was one thing she would not, could not tolerate, it was disloyalty.

That was how her last breakup occurred. She had been dating a younger man named Seth.

He was eight years her junior and exceptionally good-looking.

He was polished and articulate and he knew how to make her laugh.

They had been seeing each other for almost three months when he met her in her office after work one evening.

They planned to go out for drinks. Seth was sitting across from her when she excused herself to freshen up.

As Madison walked down the hall, she realized she had left her keycard on her desk. She turned around, and as she approached her office, she caught Seth looking through her computer and writing something into a small notepad. She stopped short. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

He was red-faced. “Uh, trying to get on the internet.”

Madison quickly crossed the office and got a glimpse at what he was looking at. She flung her arm toward the door and shrieked. “Get out!”

Olivia heard the commotion and dashed into Madison’s suite as Seth jostled past her in the doorway. The notebook launched from his hand, and Olivia quickly snatched it up.

“What’s this?” She saw the name of a company embossed on the cover. A competing magazine. She held the pad high above her head as Madison tackled Seth to the floor. Not about to let go of the evidence, Olivia bolted to her desk and called security.

In one fell swoop, Olivia tossed the notebook into her desk drawer, locked it, and shoved the key into her bra. Within minutes, a security guard appeared. Olivia pointed to Seth. “Have this man arrested.”

“Arrested? For what?” Seth roared.

“Corporate espionage.” Madison leaned against the doorframe.

“Corporate what?” Seth was getting redder by the minute.

“And trespassing,” Madison added.

“Trespassing? You invited me here!” Seth continued to protest.

“You trespassed into my computer.” Madison was passionless. “It took you three months to find the opportunity, and I played right into your plan.”

He said nothing.

“Take him downstairs and wait for the police,” Madison instructed the security guard.

“Tell them we have the evidence locked up. They can send someone to retrieve it.” Madison turned away from the men and walked back into her office.

Olivia followed and went over to the sideboard, where Madison kept a few glass carafes of whisky, vodka, bourbon, and port.

It was there for the celebrities and the advertisers.

That evening, it was for Olivia and Madison.

Olivia poured two fingers’ worth of bourbon into two double old-fashioned tumblers.

Madison was sitting in one of the club chairs. “I knew he was too good to be true.” Madison took the glass from Olivia. “Thanks. He was too good-looking.”

“What, to be a spy?”

“Exactly, he had to be a spy. James Bond is not an ugly dude.”

Olivia let out a nervous laugh.

“That was some stunt you pulled.” Madison clinked Olivia’s glass. “When did you learn to move so fast?”

“There were a few occasions when outraged husbands found their wives, and we had to go into overdrive.”

“Well, you certainly mastered that skill.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself.”

“Maybe professional football is in my future.” Madison clicked her tongue. “How could I have been so foolish?”

“It’s not easy to ignore a pretty face.”

“And he was charming.” Madison took a sip. “And he made me laugh.” She took another sip.

“You were very calm and collected.”

“On the outside. Inside? I wanted to smash that pretty face into a rubble of flesh.” Madison finished her drink. “Come on. Let us have a fabulous dinner.”

“I’ll tell Lincoln he has to fend for himself,” Olivia said.

“He’ll be fine. I know you made a batch of something scrumptious over the weekend.”

“For occasions like this one. I can leave him to his own devices and not feel a pang of guilt.”

“Guilt? Do not be ridiculous. You are the best thing that ever happened to my brother.” She got up from her chair. “And me. Come on. I hear some roasted oysters calling my name.”

Once they settled into a booth at Carne Mare, they ordered octopus carpaccio, tuna tartare, and roasted oysters, along with a crisp, cold bottle of sauvignon blanc.

“So, what do you think he was really after?” Olivia asked, as she dug into the raw tuna topped with lemon zabaglione and shaved bottarga.

“He was not lying about trying to get on the internet. He was looking up Jackson Taylor, family relatives.”

“Whoa! What do you suppose made him do that?”

“We were at a cocktail party when I ran into one of my old professors from FIT. He came over and exclaimed, ‘Madison Taylor, is that you?’ I cringed and then said, ‘Wainwright.’ I tried to give him a sign that he should not continue the line of conversation, but you know how some people can be. Rehash the past. I immediately excused myself and grabbed someone else to talk to. Seth asked what that was about, and I said that the man was confused.”

Madison sat back against the leather seat. “With the latest publicity about having some of the money recovered and divided among the victims, Seth most likely did the math.”

Olivia wrinkled her nose. “So, wait. Do you think he originally started dating you to get company secrets and stumbled upon what he thought was an even bigger scoop? I wonder if he planned to sell the info to his boss or the press. Make a name for himself.” Olivia shook her head, still not quite believing what just happened.

Madison took a sip of wine. “It is almost difficult to comprehend that it has been almost thirty years since my father was arrested. I thought it was in my rearview mirror until the latest. And it reminded me of how much contempt I have for what he did to those families. You’d think I could just close that chapter and move on. I’ve had years to recover.”

“And you did it brilliantly. You created a very cool, sleek image with your all-white wardrobe of bow blouses, jumpsuits, slim skirts, cardigans, blazers, military jackets, trousers, tunics, and moto jackets.” Olivia smiled.

“You’re the Tom Wolfe of fashion.” She was referencing the author of The Bonfire of the Vanities and The Right Stuff , who was always seen in a white suit and often a white fedora.

“You forgot about the white patent stilettos, which kill me, by the way.”

“I don’t suppose you’d trade them in for something more comfortable?”

“I have white boots.” Madison leaned in. “Besides, that is simply my work costume. You know I have a few other items in my closet that I wear as a disguise.”

“Ah, but which is the disguise? The lady in white, or the gal in the gray tracksuit, sneakers, and baseball cap?”

“You ask a very interesting question.” She held up her wineglass and clinked it against Olivia’s. “Right now, I am Madison, forty-eight, five feet seven inches, having dinner with my best friend.”

“Cin cin!” Olivia matched the clink.