Madison Awakening

I make small talk about the weather as we walk up the hill to distract myself. I’m losing the battle against my libido, with every touch. I haven’t felt that fire within since the blahs took over months ago. I hold Jonathan’s hand a little tighter as we go up the stairs to the deck and are welcomed by another beautifully set table with roses and lavender at the center. I smile at Jonathan to show my appreciation as he pulls out my chair.

“Miss Davis.” He says with a seductive smirk.

“Thank you, Mr. Cain.” I reply with a giggle and sit down.

Jonathan walks around the table and sits with his natural swag but I can still see his phone call is affecting him. The tightness in his jaw remains and his body seems rigid, not relaxed like ten minutes ago. There is a noticeable strain in his shirt as he tries to contain whatever emotion is causing his chest to bulge. I was just about to ask him what is bothering him when a young dark-haired girl comes out with my wine selection. Perfect timing. Maybe a drink will relax him a bit.

“Good afternoon Mr. Cain.” She says sweetly, completely ignoring me. I feel a little tinge of annoyance as I watch her greedy chestnut eyes devour her boss.

Slut.

“Hello, Carmen. This is Miss Davis,” He says in response and gestures towards me, forcing her to acknowledge my presence. I smile politely, but I’m sure she can feel the daggers my eyes are throwing at her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Davis.” She says, then turns right back to Jonathan and begins to pour wine into our crystal glasses. “Your lunch will be out shortly. Is there anything I can get you in the meantime Mr. Cain?”

“No, Carmen. Thank you.” He says, then she turns on her heels and walks back inside the farmhouse with a switch in her step.

Slut.

“So, Madison, what’s on your agenda for the rest of the summer? Isn’t it all beach and relaxation for you teachers?” He says with a smirk.

I roll my eyes and take a healthy sip of my wine.“Actually this is my little bit of peace before I get really busy. I’m the chair for my school’s annual benefit so I have a lot of plans to finalize before the big day.” I say matter of factly.  

Jonathan’s eyebrow rises at my response.“I wouldn’t peg you as the fundraiser type.”  

I can feel my face warming up at his tone. Again, there is an air of elitism, which I’m used to but I am not appreciating it from him. 

“I’m not fundraising for the purpose of having a party. I’m in charge of raising the bulk of the funds for our scholarship program. These kids can get the opportunity to move in circles that can change their lives forever. There are more important things in life than just having a good time.” I say with a little more force than I intended.  

Jonathan’s face finally softens.“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. My experiences with most fundraising benefits involve silly causes, vapid guests and insanely opulent gift bags. I can see by your reaction that you do not fall into that category.”  He says apologetically.

I take sip before I answer.“You’re right. I don’t fall into that category. I don’t do things without a purpose. I don’t waste my time.”

He nods his head then smiles.“So what’s your purpose in coming here? What is your purpose in spending time with me?” He asks with an intense stare that I can’t break. I grab my wine and consider my answer carefully.

“Because I wanted to.” I say softly, as I lower my eyes to the silverware. I can’t give away the fact that my body is aching for him.

“That is a poor answer Miss Davis. I know that isn’t the real purpose.” He admonishes.

“Why isn’t that an acceptable answer? It’s the truth.” I say indignantly.  

Jonathan gives me a crooked smile and takes a sip from his glass while keeping his gaze on me. He places his glass down, leans forward and cocks his head to the side.

“Madison, I know that you don’t make decisions frivolously. I guess I’m asking what you asked me last night. Why are you here with me?” He says with an inquisitive tone. 

His hazel eyes burrow into me and I can feel my skin humming under the surface. I take another sip from my glass, smirking at my lustful thoughts and decide to go with the real truth.

“I wanted you…” I respond, this time not breaking eye contact.  

Jonathan rewards my honesty with a shy smile, which surprises me, but our moment is interrupted by Carmen, as she saunters over with our lunch. Of course she places Jonathan’s plate with an extra flourish that includes her perky B-cups in his face and an extra toothy smile.  She then places mine down with much less pizzazz. The lamb, fingerling potatoes and sautéed spinach smell amazing.

“Anything else for you Mr. Cain?” Carmen coos.

“We’ll have bottled still water and some rolls please Carmen. Anything for you Madison?” He says not even looking at Carmen. 

Love that.

“Can I have some lemon for my water?” I ask sweetly. Then lick my top lip, keeping my gaze firmly on Jonathan. 

I hear Carmen walk away, leaving me alone with Mr. Cain.

I look down at my plate hoping this can satisfy one version of my hunger. “This looks delicious Jonathan. Is this from the same restaurant from last night?” I ask and we both start digging in. Of course it is delicious, not like I expected anything less.

Jonathan shakes his head. “Oh no. We have a full kitchen on site. We are toying with the idea of allowing weddings. They are big business here on the island.”  

“Who exactly is ‘we’?” I ask.

“We, including my partner Marcelle DuBois. He is a prep school friend.” He answers in between a mouthful of potatoes.

Carmen appears with our water, rolls and lemon without uttering a peep and retreats back into the farmhouse again. I think she realizes Mr. Cain’s attention is mine, so she backed off.

“Where did you go to prep school?”

“In Paris, for about six years. We remained in touch and he found this investment, so here we are.”

“Hence the name. That was going to be my next question.” 

“Yes, I gave him that one. Plus I don’t like putting my name on my businesses.”

“Why is that?”

“Because naming a business after yourself is narcissistic. My name has been a dynamic that has ruled my life, so anything I create I want it to stand alone.” He says with an undertone of sadness. 

We eat in silence for a few moments as I absorb his words. I decided to break the awkward silence to hopefully lighten his mood again.

“How often are you here in the Hamptons?”

“I’m usually here two to three days a week during the summer. But most of my time is spent in SoHo.”

“Are you a workaholic? You seem to have a lot on your plate.” Jonathan looks down at his half empty plate and I laugh. “You know what I mean. What do you do for you?” I ask.

Jonathan looks upward contemplating my question as I continue working on my lunch.  He looks back at me and simply says:

“You.”  

I almost choke on my food. “I’m sorry?”