“Is everything okay?” she asked her sister. “I mean with Alec?”
“Alec’s amazing.” The words were out almost before Mollie had finished asking the question. “We’re probably going to get married.”
Alec McDaniels was a thirtysomething model with a history of attaching himself to the rich and famous. Mollie was 100 percent sure that if Madison had never become a household name, courtesy of Housewives, Alec never would have conveniently bumped into Maddie at a bar.
Still, her sister liked the guy, and Mollie supposed that was what mattered.
“I’m glad things are going well,” Mollie said. “I want you to be happy.”
Madison said nothing to this, but then Mollie hadn’t really expected her to. Her sister seemed to think that the entire world existed to ensure her happiness.
It hadn’t always been this way. True, Madison had always been self-absorbed, but she’d also stepped up to the plate when someone needed her. When Mollie needed her.
Something had changed once Maddie had become Mrs. Jackson Burke. It was as though the money and fame had somehow brought all of her sister’s worst qualities to the top and leached out all of the good. Mollie still loved her sister. But liking Madison…that was harder.
“I bet he’s thinking he can get to me through you,” Madison said in a musing voice.
Mollie picked at her chipping nail polish to keep from losing her temper. “Mad, I wasn’t kidding when I said he didn’t mention you. I really think he’s moved on, just like you have.”
“He’s seeing someone?” Madison asked, her tone turning even sharper.
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
If the thought of Jackson dating someone caused a funny little pang in her stomach, Mollie ignored it. It was just that for a moment there, when the two of them had stood face-to-face in his apartment, she could have sworn there was a little sizzle of something between them. Nothing inappropriate. Not even interest. Just…awareness.
She’d always been aware of Jackson Burke. She’d accepted that as one of the facts of her life. But this was the first time she’d sensed that maybe he’d been aware of her.
Thank you, little red dress.
Mollie mentally slapped herself. No. That was not what this was about. This was about getting out of her crap hole of an apartment, saying yes to an offer from a friend.
Mollie glanced around at the grungy apartment. It was disgusting. Even before Cabbage Boy had moved in with his spider, it had been a bit of a crap hole. She’d picked the place mainly based on its bigger-than-average closet space, only to realize too late that the closet was almost as big as the bedroom and kitchen combined. She wanted out.
“Mad, I’ve got to get going. I can’t let Kim do all of my packing.”
“Oh, I’m not packing so much as purging,” Kim interjected, chucking one of Mollie’s favorite shirts into the giveaway pile.
“So you’re really doing this?” Madison asked.
“Yeah,” Mollie said quietly. “I am. I’m sorry if it’s weird for you, but like I said, it’s temporary and there’s nothing—”
“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking,” Madison interrupted. “We use this to our advantage.”
We use this to our advantage. Once, Mollie had taken comfort in Madison’s habit of talking about the two of them as a unit. When their mom had been wasted out of her mind on the couch, Madison had assured Mollie that we were going to be just fine. When they’d had to go to their dad’s new family’s house for Christmas, Madison had promised that we’d stick together.
But lately…lately the we had felt a lot more like Madison’s agenda and the expectation that Mollie follow along blindly.
“Do I even want to know what you mean by that?” Mollie asked warily.
Kim quietly hummed the Jaws theme in the background.
“I mean that he’s using you to keep tabs on me; I can use you to keep tabs on him.”
“Why do you care?” Mollie burst out. “You divorced him, remember? You left him for another man. Another man you’re going to marry.”
“Don’t be naive, Mollie. Jackson may not be a quarterback anymore, but he still has the power to torpedo my career if he wants to.”
What career? Mollie wanted to scream. It was getting harder and harder to remember that this was the woman who’d once stayed up all night altering her old prom dress so that Mollie would have something to wear when they couldn’t afford a new gown. This was the sister who’d talked her through her first period, who’d held her hand during Mom’s funeral, who’d always been game to watch Golden Girls reruns when Mollie wasn’t feeling well.
“Actually, I can’t believe I didn’t think about this earlier,” Madison was saying. “This is perfect.”
Mollie held up her hand even though her sister couldn’t see. “Hang on. Five seconds ago you were pissed. And before you even go there, I’m not moving in to spy on him, Mad.”
“Of course not! But you can, you know, influence him. You’ve always been able to talk to him when he wouldn’t listen to anyone else.”