I look down at the tee I stole from Joemar, grinning like I got away scot-free from a bank robbery. Wonder if he woke up smiling like I did. Hope so since it’s race day. “Though it’s nothing big, I did . . .” I stop speaking when I lay my eyes on her. Her knuckles whitening, her eyes fixed forward, and a weird vibe fills the car. “What’s going on, Paula?”“You’ve missed the news this morning.” She glances at me and then back at the road again.I push up to right myself and take a deep breath. My stomach twists in knots from the thought of my private life becoming gossip. “Did the story about Carlos Pirrote come out?”“Um. No.” She cringes and hands me her phone. “I know you don’t have social media for all the right reasons, but you need to get online.”Taking the phone, I’m nervous about seeing what I’ll find. “I had all my notifications like Google Alerts off as well. What is it? Just tell me.”“Open my phone.”“I don’t think I want to,” I joke, but my laugh is riddled with nerves. I
“We understand, Madonna.” Harry saves me the pain of having to spell it out in front of my parents.I slide forward in the chair and pick the phone up again. Taking it off speaker, I hold it to my ear. “I’m sorry about the sponsors.”“Sponsors are like skittish kittens. They thrive on threatening to pull out their money. It’s their way of feeling like they have control of the situation,” Harry says with conviction set in his tone. “Unfortunately, I need to go and deal with this mess.” He pauses, and for some reason, it concerns me. “Hello?” I say, making sure they’re still there.“Madonna,” he says, “you need to keep your distance from Marco and the races in general until this settles down.”I’m being grounded? Well, this is humiliating. I dip my head and rub my temple that’s starting to throb. I gather the strength anyway and ask on an exhale, “Are you asking me?”“No.” The answer is blunt, though I know it wasn’t said maliciously.Why does it feel like I just had the rug pulled out
“It will be a constant reminder of how I was right, and you were wrong.” Her giggle populates like champagne bubbles through our connection.“I bought the phone so you could see the mess we made online like I have to.”“It’s quite the mess.” As our laughter dies down, she adds, “I’ve been banned from the track.” Her tone is softer, her words more forgiving.The punch comes with the admission. I’m not surprised, but it’s bullshit. “Forever?”“For now.”I nod, though she can’t see me. Sitting up, I say, “Good thing we don’t exist in each other’s worlds.” Nothing about that feels genuine. Even I don’t believe the lies I’m spewing.“Yeah . . . good thing.” A quick pause is cut short. “I should let you go.”“You don’t have to.” No adjustments. Life is smooth right now. Don’t wreak havoc on your career over a woman. “I didn’t mean it how it came out.” “How did you mean it, Marco?”“You’re there, and I’m here, and . . . we’ve just not run into each other before.”I can’t see her, but I’m no
Joemar Russo's POVWho is this?Staring down at my phone, I send the text with a grin, knowing full well who it is. I finish filling the two glasses with ice, then check for her reply:Very funny.My phone rings.I’m both surprised and impressed by the bold move of her calling me, and answer, “Hello?”“I don’t think Russo is your real last name.”“It’s not.”“What?” The shock in her voice resounds through the connection. “It’s not? Do people know this? Is it public knowledge?”“It’s not a secret, but it’s not something I advertise either.”There’s a pause, but then she asks, “What’s your last name?”“You don’t do any research, do you?”“I do plenty for characters or restaurant reviews. Research on people I know is something I avoid if I can. I’d rather know the real them.”“Sounds like you’re catching on to the manipulation of the media.”“If I didn’t prior, I do after the other night. Today is the first time I feel like I can breathe a little.” The sound of her breathing rushes forwa
Thursday . . .I hate Thursdays.Four days with my son isn’t enough.He’s had me serving him ice cream well after bedtime and jumping in puddles because who cares about expensive shoes when I can ruin them with Cullen. Watching him go-kart at an indoor track in Jersey was the highlight. He’s going to be better than I’ve ever been.I wish he could see me race, at least once, in person. I can already hear Terry arguing that it’s too disruptive to his schedule. I could challenge that argument, but that won’t change the fact that I need to respect her as his mother.“Hop up, buddy.” My mom takes his backpack while I lower down so Cullen can jump onto my back. As much as I love his curiosity, I don’t think I can have another thirty minute conversation about the cracks in the sidewalk.We start walking again. “We’re booking it today,” she says, eyeing me with a reserved smile.“I can slow down.”“You don’t need to do me any favors. I can keep up with you kids.”I chuckle, knowing she’s the
Returning to the other block, my mom is nowhere to be found, and Madonna sits on a stoop waiting for me. I approach. “Hey there.”She stands on the first step when she sees me, dusting off the back of her jeans. “Hi. Your mom said she was tired and caught a car to her place.”“She runs 10ks,” I say with a chuckle. “She wasn’t tired. She wanted to give us time alone.”“Well, you shouldn’t out her like that. Next time, just play along.”It’s the late afternoon cool air, the light that always seems to find itself shining in her eyes when she looks up at me, and a lot about her that has me gravitating closer. I want to rub her hip and hold her close with the other hand. I want to caress her cheek and kiss her.That would cause a real scandal if anyone caught us. I can’t say that dissuades me though.When I move a little closer, she asks, “So you like to be called Daddy?” She bites her lip while her eyes stare into mine, insinuating everything.Damn . . .She’s going to be the fucking deat
It’s a bummer that the tone has changed, that we’re both on guard more, and all conversation has ceased to exist. If there are eyes, ears are listening in as well.The pizza finally comes out the window, and we hustle away from the crowded pizzeria and down a block before we stop. She looks across the street and then at me. “Your place or mine?”When our eyes connect again, I think we both know that question is loaded with more than dinner plans. But she doesn’t hesitate. “Yours.”XXXMadonna Saint Elise POV“Why are you in the city if you’re filming in Vancouver?” Joemar asks before devouring the last of his fourth piece of pizza.The man can eat. It’s actually impressive. Even if this is the most divine pizza that has ever touched my tongue, I fell out of competition after two large slices. Joemar is still going, reaching for another.“I had an audition this afternoon.”“For a movie?”It felt like home on that stage today, the feeling still soaring through my veins. “For a play on Br
Although I’m amused by the rambling, I won’t make her suffer any longer. I cross into the room and go straight for her, running my hands around the base of her neck and bending to kiss her. It’s gentle at first, the tension still felt in her shoulders. But when I encourage her lips apart, and our tongues meet, her body loosens under my touch.I walk until the back of her legs meet the bed, then stop everything. “I want you to take your clothes off. Will you do that for me, babe?”A thousand thoughts cross through her eyes as panic sets in. “Like, just strip right here with you staring at me?”“Yes.”“Whew,” she exhales loudly with her hands planted on her hips. I expect her to start pacing at this rate or throwing jabs in the air. “I can do that. Yep, no problem.”As entertaining as this is, it’s not exactly what I intended. “You psyching yourself up there, champ?”Her eyes find mine again. “Sure am.”“If you’re not comfortable—”“No,” she starts, on the verge of another run-on senten
Reaching over, she touches the top of my hand. “I know. I appreciate it.” She glances out the glass doors, watching Cullen and Joemar on the terrace, and says, “I used to drink on race days.” When her eyes return to mine, her expression falls. “I struggled to let go of the image of the family I imagined I should have.”How does she see this going? I glance back at Joemar, silently worrying I’m crossing a line I shouldn’t without him. “That can be hard to reconcile.”“Don’t worry, it was reconciled a long time ago. Joemar and I are oil and water. Things are how they should be.” She leans in and whispers, “I’m so glad he found you. You saved his life.”This time I open my mouth, but then close it, thinking about what she said. I always thought he saved me, like on the red carpet. But when I look back over my shoulder, I think she might be right. Joemar didn’t care about anything but Cullen and his career.Now he has a life.I cross the imaginary line and give her a hug. She hesitates at
Madonna Saint Elise POVShrugging, I laugh so softly that I barely even hear it. “I don’t need much to make me happy. You and maybe a Tootsie Pop or some chocolate.”His grin extends, carving into his cheeks as his eyes stay steady on mine. “I’m going to give you the world, Madonna Saint Elise. I’ll buy you a whole candy shop just to see your smile.”“It’s not for me that I want it.” Too subtle?A roguish grin takes over, and his hands lower to my hips, pulling me on top of him. He’s already hard when he shifts my hips forward and back again over his length. “I’m going to spoil you rotten, my love.”The teasing gets the better of me, and I finally kiss him, briefly losing myself in the headiness of being together again. “Good thing I love to be spoiled.” Slipping lower, I take hold of his erection and add, “But I want to go first.” I spoil him with every ounce of my being, making love and making him come so hard, first with my mouth and then with my body. I take every inch of him and
I stare at her, wondering what that text exchange was about if she never wanted to see me again. Frustration sets in as she opens the car door. Still standing in the headlights of the car, I throw my arms out wide. “So that’s it, babe?”With one foot already in the car, she stops and looks at me over the door. “I didn’t wage this war, so it’s not mine to finish.”“But you’re in it.” I come closer. “You’re in the middle of this battle, so you have to fight it.”Both her feet land back on the street, her lips tightening as the fire is lit inside when she stands. “I don’t have to do anything. You didn’t just break my phone. You broke my heart, Jeomar. It’s up to you to fix it.”“I’m trying.”“Try harder.” She slams the door closed. “You think saying sorry is enough. It’s not. I can’t forgive you just because you’re ready to be back in my life. You shifted the blame to me under fears of . . .” Planting her hands on her hips, she says, “I have no idea. I don’t know what happened that day.
Jeomar Russo POV“What the . . .?”Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, I stare at my phone and the message on the screen. My chest aches where my heart used to be, but I rarely feel it anymore even with adrenaline pumping through me.“What is it, Daddy?” Cullen whines, “This is boring.” I’ve heard that a few times over the past two weeks. It was nice to have him for an extended period, but I think he might be sick of his old man.I shove my phone in my back pocket because I can’t reply with my mind going in a million directions and my kid tugging on my hand. I try not to be on my phone as much when I’m with my son, but I can’t stop thinking that I’m imagining the message that just popped up. “It’s not boring. We walk to experience life instead of sitting in the back of a vehicle. Look around, Cullen. What do you see?”While he’s busy trying to spot one of a million differences from the last time we walked this route, I can’t help but wonder why now? Why would Madonna text me out
Madonna Saint Elise POVI rush back to my trailer, swinging the door wide open, and scramble to find the remote.Clicking the TV on, I search the channels until I find P1 racing. I have no idea if I’ve missed Joemar qualifying or if he stayed off the track this week like he should have.“Dumonte. Pace Set. Rogue Automotive.” I gasp when I see Saint Elise on the track. “Who’s in the driver’s seat? Come on. Come on.”“Had their reserve at the paddock this week . . .” The announcer rambles blah blah . . . “Quite the accident . . . lucky to be alive. Back in the saddle. He was cleared, but we’re about to see if he’s recovered.”I don’t know why my heart sinks other than knowing Joemar shouldn’t be out there. What are my brothers thinking?I sit on the couch with my legs tucked under me, clasping my hands together nervously. He was so worried about sitting out a race, but one mistake could cost him his career.“This is the end,” Carlos says, taking a seat on the top step.“We’ve been long
Joemar Russo POVI’m not sure in what—God, his recovery, or that things will work out how they should. I don’t question her because we all handle tragedies differently, but I want to taste that same faith that makes her eyes shine through the tears she’s holding back. “Have you heard anything?” I ask in a whisper, careful not to have Cullen overhear. I’m grasping for any news that will give me the same buoy to hold on to while still finding comfort in her touch.“He’s going to be okay, but they still don’t know the extent of the damage since they didn’t want to cut the layers of his clothes before reaching the hospital. They’re doing that now, separating the fibers from the burns.” Cullen wiggles at her side. She turns to me and says, “I’m going to find him a bathroom.”Cullen comes over and envelops me in his arms. I didn’t know I needed the embrace until I was wrapped in it. A stifled cry chokes me up, and the tears threatening to fall this whole time finally do. I turn into him, hu
Madonna Saint Elise POV“You left me to fend for myself, Lauren.”“I can have security in place by tonight, but you must take some responsibility. You went rogue by having Joemar Russo crash the red carpet like he did.”“I didn’t do anything but arrive like I was told. He showed up because he cared. He knew that I would be walking the carpet alone following Carlos’s engagement announcement.” Even her heavy breath sounds argumentative and rubs me wrong. “I was thrown to the wolves last night, but I’m not going to fight with you. We’re clearly at a crossroads.” Sitting in my trailer alone, I move the steamed zucchini around on my plate, but then stop and set the fork down.I can’t do this. I don’t want to be here.“We’re not. I’m team Madonna. You know I like a plan in place and for it to go smoothly. I apologize for not being there or having staff available for you. I will be there with you next time.”I’m not cold-hearted, but I am upset. I have no idea where we go from here. I just k
Tears fill my eyes, and with no time to find my sunglasses, they fall. A back door is opened and through watery vision, I squeeze through the chaos. The phone in my back pocket buzzes as I climb inside the car. I don’t even care if my suitcase makes it at this point. I tell the driver, “Go. Please go.”How do I go from one of the best nights of my life to dropping my head into my hands and crying?“Are you okay, miss?”“No. I’m not.” I turn to look outside, but something catches my attention in my periphery. I look at the driver again and see him handing me a box of tissues.He says, “I’m sorry. That was awful.”Taking the box, I stare at him. As awful as that was back there, here I’m being offered the kindness of a stranger. “Thank you.” This is what matters. Not people who make more money off upset celebrities or the paparazzi who make a living off provoking someone to capture their worst in a photo. “I appreciate it.”He nods, focusing his attention forward for the remainder of the
Joemar RussoPOVI have connections, so it wasn’t hard to snag a ticket. I’m hoping Madonna will be happy to see me. Everything we have could be ruined by a bad decision. This could be my worst of all time, and that’s an impressive list.Stepping out of the SUV, I straighten my jacket and button it. I don’t dig these events, but I’ve been to enough to know what to do. I’m guided forward to the press and start the game, answering questions and taking photos. The positive about not being announced until arrival is that no one is prepared to talk to you.The downside, they wing it. “The last time we saw you and Madonna Saint Elise to get her, you were holding hands in Miami.” The journalist holds the microphone under my nose and asks, “Are you here to support her as a friend, or is there more between the two of you?”I step back and reply, “She’s a brilliant actress. I’m here to support her and the movie.”Not really into the fame side of things, I start walking ahead until I hear someone