Snuggling up to me, Madison reaches up and touches just below my black eye. “I hate when you get one of these,” she says. “But is it wrong that I love what it brings out in you?”
I laugh, placing my hand over hers. “Yeah, right,” I reply. “You might be on to something there. Maybe I should get into more altercations. What do you think?”
Turning serious, she lowers her hand to my chest and taps once. “No, as much as it brings out the beast in you, I don’t like to see you get hurt.”
I cup her cheek. “Aww, sweetheart, I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, Lennox. In fact, I feel the same as you told me you do—you own my heart.”
“Babe,” I reply, looking into her eyes, “you not only own my heart, youaremy heart.”
The morning after the game against Winnipeg, Lennox informs me out of the blue that he has an interview at the Bears’ arena.
“Wait, you do?” I ask, perplexed. “You haven’t said anything about any interview.”
It’s true, and it’s out of character for him. He’s usually really good at keeping me up-to-date on his schedule.
We’re in the midst of having breakfast in the kitchen at his house, and I can see he’s rushing to finish his eggs.
This is a little weird.
“I know,” he says between hurried bites. “I kind of forgot about it till I was showering just a bit ago. You were down here making breakfast, so this is the first chance I’ve had to mention it.”
“Okayyy. What time do you have to be there?” I ask. “And who’s this interview with?”
He ignores my second question and only says, “It’s at eleven o’clock.”
I glance over at the clock on the stove and murmur, “Uh, you do realize it’s already after ten now.”
“I know,” he says, pushing his plate away and swiping the napkin over his mouth. “I better go.”
As he stands, I take a sip of juice and adjust the tie on my robe. I haven’t even had a chance to shower yet, so it’s not like I can gowith him. There’s just not enough time to get ready.
So, shrugging, I say, “Okay, get going.”
I guess I’ll get all the details later.
Still clearly in a rush, Lennox comes over to where I’m seated and gives me a quick kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart. And maybe”—he tugs at the tie on my robe—“keep this on and we’ll pick up where we left off earlier.”
I smile and nod, but inside I’m thinking,I don’t think so.
More and more, I’m feeling like something is up here. There’s a part of this interview story that I’m missing.
Or he’s purposely leaving details out.
I don’t like this, not one bit.
Lennox takes off, and I sit at the table, toying with a piece of crust that I pulled from my toast earlier and pondering more on this weird situation.
First, why didn’t he tell me who the interview is with?
Did he not hear that part of my question?
I doubt that.
But is it even important who’s interviewing him?
“It is if it’s with that Meredith chick,” I state out loud, my blood beginning to boil. “It is very fucking important to tell me.”
