I Wish You Were Mine (Oxford #2) (22 page)

When Mollie woke up the next morning, there was no Jackson beside her. No bracing smell of brewing coffee.

A glance at the clock showed her why. It was well past ten, and she’d learned that Jackson rarely slept past six. He’d likely made coffee hours ago.

She sat up and blinked groggily before crawling to the side of the bed. A quick scan showed that he’d picked up her dress and panties, setting both on the dresser.

Grabbing her clothes, she slowly opened the door of the bedroom. “Jackson?”

Nothing.

She darted across the hallway to the safety of her own bedroom, where she pulled on underwear, sweatpants, and an ancient tank top.

Heading toward the kitchen, she made a beeline for the coffeepot, smiling when she saw he’d set it so that all she needed to do was hit the button to get a fresh pot brewing.

She was grabbing the water pitcher from the fridge when she saw his note on the counter.

At the gym. Tried to wait for you, but you looked dead.

J

Mollie rolled her eyes. Well,
that
was romantic.

While she waited for the coffee to finish, she headed into the living room, where she’d left her cell on an end table.

She gave a happy little jump when she saw a text message from Grace Malone, the wife of one of Jackson’s colleagues. Mollie had assumed when the group had insisted on getting her number last night it had just been out of politeness, but Grace had invited her to their girls’ night on Thursday. Mollie quickly typed back a happy acceptance.

Her smile faded when she saw the next text. It was from her sister.

Hey. Sorry I’ve been busy lately. Forgive? Also, I’m in NYC again—new club flew me and the other Housewives gals up to attend their opening. Not busy till later though. Can u do lunch? I want to catch up with my baby sister!

Mollie blew out a breath. On the plus side, at least Madison had told her about being in New York this time.

On the other hand…

It was time.

No, it was
past
time to tell her sister what was going on. Especially after last night. Mollie had almost dropped the
L
-word, for God’s sake. She owed Madison the truth. Her sister deserved it.

Plus Jackson deserved more than to be someone’s dirty little secret.

And Mollie deserved…She didn’t know what she deserved. She only knew that the secrecy was tearing a hole in her heart.

Still, this was not going to be an easy meeting—not at all.

Sure. What time?
she texted back.

Madison’s response was immediate.
Noon. Fig & Olive on Lex?

See you there,
Mollie texted.

Setting the phone aside, she waited for a surge of panic, but felt oddly numb.

Deep breaths. You can do this. You’re an adult—accept the consequences of your actions.

An hour and a half later, Mollie had had too many cups of coffee and was jittery, her palms sweaty, as she walked the few blocks to the restaurant.

Mollie blew out a long breath before she opened the front door to Fig & Olive and stepped inside. For the hundredth time she wondered if she should have warned Jackson what she was doing—that she was coming clean.

Ultimately she’d decided against it. What she and Jackson had was important, but right now it was about her and Maddie.

About the fact that she loved Jackson
and
her sister. And they both deserved more than lies.

Mollie stepped into the restaurant.

“Hi,” she said, forcing a smile at the hostess. “I’m meeting someone here at noon. Madison Burke?”

The young woman glanced down at her screen. “Yes, of course. The rest of your party is already seated.”

Great.
Fantastic
. So much for having a few more minutes to gather her thoughts, to figure out how to tell her sister that she’d been bumping uglies with her ex.

Madison grinned in greeting as Mollie approached, her smile so warm and friendly that Mollie’s stomach twisted in dread.

“Oh my gosh, that blue dress looks
amazing
on you,” Madison gushed, standing to give her a quick hug.

“Hey, Maddie,” Mollie said, hugging her sister maybe a moment longer than necessary.

“Ugh, that nickname makes me feel twelve again,” Madison said as they sat down. “Although, come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind going back in time. I found another gray hair today. And I’m officially addicted to Botox.” Madison gestured at a mostly perfect forehead.

Mollie smiled. “You look beautiful. You are beautiful.”

“You’re twenty-eight,” Madison grumbled as she picked up her menu. “Just wait until you’re creeping up on thirty-five. Stuff’s sagging and creasing all over the place. Soon the boy who was once wildly in love with you becomes the man who can’t wait to boot you out of his office.”

Mollie paused in the process of taking a sip of her water. She’d thought she’d have at least a bit longer before the conversation turned to Jackson, but then, that was the entire reason Madison was in New York. For Madison, it was always about Jackson. Even though they were no longer married, he was still front and center.

“Did Jackson mention that I dropped by?” Madison asked, shutting her menu and leaning forward.

Mollie took another sip of her water. “He mentioned it.”

Madison shook her head. “It was weird. It’s like he’s intentionally holding himself back from me. For a minute there we were connecting. We felt like the old Madison and Jackson. But then he kept looking at his phone, acting all weird.” She shrugged. “Any ideas?”

The server came over to get their drink order, and Madison caught Mollie’s eye and lifted an eyebrow. “Wine?”

Hell
yes,
she could go for some wine. Or tequila shots. Whatever would make this conversation easier for both of them.

They both ordered a glass of white wine, and Madison picked up the conversation the second the waitress moved away. “So talk to me, Mollie. What the heck is going on over there? I thought he and I had reached a turning point when I made him dinner, but now I can’t get him to even respond to my text messages, much less meet with me. I keep thinking if I could just get him into bed, maybe have some angry-ex sex, he’ll remember how good things are.”

“Why do you want him back?” Mollie blurted out.

Madison blinked, looking surprised at the question. As though it should be obvious, she replied, “He’s my husband.”

“He’s your
ex
-husband.
You
filed the papers.”

Madison rubbed her temple, as though the conversation was beneath her. “Mollie, we’ve been over this, like, a hundred times. You don’t understand—”

“Right, I know, I’ve never had a big love like yours and Jackson’s,” Mollie said, not bothering to keep the impatience out of her voice. “But it’s just…hell, Mad, did you cheat on him? Early on, I mean, before everything got broken?”

Madison’s head snapped up. “What?”

Mollie fiddled with her fork but forced herself to continue despite her sister’s furious gaze.

“Jackson said he saw you. With Tyler. Said you guys were…you know.”

The anger had faded from Madison’s eyes and been replaced with cold shock. “He told you that?”

“Well, yeah.”

“That
ass,
” Madison hissed. “That was his and my private—” She broke off as the server brought their wine over.

“Ready to order?” their perky waitress asked with a wide smile.

“A few more minutes,” Madison said, her voice all sugar as she smiled prettily at the server. “Still deciding.”

Mollie felt a tiny stab of disdain. Had Madison always been like this? So easily able to go from furious to sugary sweet? And had the sweet part
ever
been genuine?

“He shouldn’t have told you that,” Madison said, her smile disappearing the moment the waitress walked away.

“So it’s true,” Mollie said a little sadly.

Madison rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me feel guilty about this, Mollie. You don’t know what it was like. Knowing that half the women in the country want your husband. Knowing that he started taking some of them up on their invitation…”

Mollie looked away. She still didn’t know whether Madison had just gotten really good at selling the lie or whether she actually believed Jackson had cheated on her, but
Mollie
no longer believed it. She’d seen the type of man Jackson Burke was. Hell, she should have always known it. He wasn’t a cheater.

Madison started to take a sip of wine, then paused as she studied Mollie closely. “You’re not serious,” Madison said, putting the glass down with a soft clank.

“About what?”

“You’re taking his side on this!” Madison accused, leaning forward. “Oh my God, you
are
! Ugh, I should have known that pushing you to live with him was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, perhaps it was,” Mollie said quietly.

Madison was too riled up to notice Mollie’s response. “You know, I actually thought you were over your stupid little crush. And I thought he was decent enough not to prey upon it. But, God, am I an idiot.”

The server approached them once more, her ready smile slipping when she observed the tension at the table, and she wisely backed away.

“You knew about my…crush?” Mollie asked, the word feeling woefully inadequate given the escalation of her relationship with Jackson.

Madison rolled her eyes. “Of course. You always looked at him too long, blushed when he talked to you…you practically fainted every time he gave you a token gift.”

Mollie felt her cheeks heating as she remembered that stupid red Chanel clutch. She’d always known that the gesture hadn’t meant as much to Jackson as it had to Mollie, but seeing it now through Madison’s eyes somehow made it downright pathetic.

“It’s not a big deal,” Madison said, her voice gentling slightly. “I don’t think he knew, if it makes you feel any better.”

Well, he sure as hell knows now,
Mollie thought, and took a gulp of her wine.

“But you can’t let him use you.” Madison reached across the table. “I know he can be charming. I mean, trust me, I
so
know. And he knows exactly the right thing to say to get what he wants.”

“What is it you think he wants?”

Madison’s mouth opened, and then she shut it, frowning a little. After a moment she said, “He wants his life back the way it was.”

“But it’s never going to be the way that it was. He’s never going to play football. You’re never going to be that sweet virginal college girl he fell in love with.”

“
Ouch,
Mollie.”

“I’m not trying to be a bitch. But don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

Madison’s mouth set in a stubborn line, and this time when the server tentatively came back over, Madison ordered a salad, dressing on the side.

“And for you, miss?” the server asked Mollie.

“Um…” She quickly glanced down at the menu and ordered the first thing she saw. “I’ll take the risotto.” It didn’t really matter what she ordered. Her stomach was in far too many knots to actually eat.

“Must be nice,” Madison grumbled when the server moved away.

“What must be nice?”

Madison lifted a slim shoulder. “Being called
miss
. Being able to order carbs.”

Mollie slumped back, suddenly sick of being seen as some scrappy, dorky kid. “Ugh, you sound like Jackson.”

Madison went very still as she stared at Mollie over her wineglass. “Meaning?”

Shit.
Shit
.

“He just gives me crap about being young is all. It gets old.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure you’re
real
torn up about a hot guy commenting about how nubile you are.”

“Nubile? Seriously? Don’t be weird,” Mollie grumbled.

“What else does
Jackson
say?” her sister said. “And when exactly did you go and switch sides?”

“There are no sides, Madison! You two divorced. It was messy. The only side I’m on is the one where you two have moved on with your lives.”

“Would that make you happy?” Madison asked in the same sugary voice she’d used on the waitress. “Would Jackson moving on make you happy?”

Mollie lifted her chin.
Here goes.

“Yes, it would,” she said quietly.

They said nothing for several tense moments as their gazes clashed. Madison had always been good at reading her, and Mollie wondered if her sister would pick up on the subtext or if she would have to come right out and say—

“Oh my God,” Madison whispered, her eyes widening. “Oh my
God
.”

Yep, her sister had put the pieces together, all right. That was plenty obvious by the look of pure shock on her face.

“Are you kidding me, Mollie? You slept with my husband?”

To Madison’s credit, she kept her voice down. What could easily have turned into a scene merely looked like an intense conversation.

“You are not married to him,” Mollie said.

“Don’t throw semantics in my face.”

“Semantics? You file for divorce from the man, leave him for someone else, and even after you change your mind and he tells you he doesn’t want to get back together, you think the problem here is word choice?”

“No, I think the problem is you fucking him!”

Mollie flinched.

Madison put her elbows on the table, pressing her fingers to her pale cheeks. “I can’t…I can’t believe this. How did this…how
could
you, Mollie?”

Mollie swallowed. Madison’s reaction was no worse than she’d expected, but it was no better either.

“Maddie, you have to know—”

“Wait, I’m sorry. Do you
actually
think there’s something you can say that will make me okay with this?”

“No,” Mollie said. “I don’t expect you to be okay with it. I know it violates girl code and sister code, and I should have talked to you about my feelings before anything happened, but—”

Her sister wasn’t listening. She interrupted as though Mollie had never spoken. “And to think I pushed you to move in with him. Knowing about your stupid infatuation, knowing that he’d do
anything
to get back at me—”