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!”