Page 112 of Cuts like a Knife
“I am your boss, Madison. Get it through your thick skull. And I already talked to Lars. He’s fine with it. We agreed together — you’ve earned it. As of right now, you’re free. Your time is your own. I can handle the rest of the events. You can do a little on Thursday morning. And then we can both f— off home. Say thank you.”
I smile. I can’t help it. “Okay,” I say. “Thanks, Callum. I mean it.”
“F— off. Go away now.”
Off I go.
~
A few hours later, the sun has set and the yacht has dropped anchor in a quiet cove. I’m pretty sure we’re in Hooper’s Bay, actually, right off shore from Drews cottage. Before it got truly dark, I thought I recognized some of the houses.
Now, I can’t really see the shore at all. It’s so dark. The only light is coming from the boat itself, a few stars, and the moon, which hangs in the sky in a perfect crescent, casting a long silvery path on the water.
The wind has picked up and the yacht is rocking more than ever, but so far, I’ve managed to hang on to the contents of my stomach. Turns out these coves aren’t so sheltered after all.
Other than that first vodka-soda, I’ve had nothing but water. I completely skipped dinner, which, like every meal produced by this insane cast, looked disgusting. And the big room has been transformed, exactly as promised, into a disco, complete with flashing likes and a swirling disco ball. I spent less than five minutes inside with DJ Krakken’s insufferable “music” pounding in my ears before I started to feel sick and escaped to the relative calm of the foredeck, where there’s a small secondary bar and a few other people — the more conversationally minded, I presume.
Almost everyone is inside, gyrating. The rollings sea doesn’t seem to bother anyone besides me331.
I’m trying to breathe through the nausea when Drew appears on the desk.
“You’re like a bad penny,” I say as he steps outside. A thumping swell of music comes out the door with him, then recedes as he slides it closed behind him.
“Because I keep turning up? I could say the same about you. All the advertisers are here. My client owns this yacht. You knew I’d be here.”
“I didn’t think about it. I don’t think about you all that often, you know.”
“Why are you so mad at me all the time?”
“I’m not mad,” I say.
“You seem mad. And I’m getting pretty sick of it.”
“You’re getting sick of me? That’s ironic,” I say332.
“Ah, give it a f—ing rest, Lex. No one knows us here, okay? You don’t have to try so hard to prove to everyone that you hate me. You don’t have to pretend.”
“Maybe I’m not pretending,” I say.
Drew scoffs. “You are. Because you don’t hate me. Not even a little bit. You’ve never hated me. You didn’t hate me when we were teenagers and you haven’t hated me for a single minute of the last year and half. I know that for a fact. You didn’t hate me on the beach today. You didn’t hate me in bed this week. You didn’t hate me in Claire and Adam’s barn. You don’t hate me. Quite the opposite, actually.”
“It was just sex. What are you, a girl?”
“No it wasn’t. It wasn’t just sex for me. Because I love you. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. The only thing I don’t love is how f—ing crazy you’re being about all of this. You love me too. I know you do. We have been together seriously, for all intents and purposes, for more than a year, whether you want to admit it or not. And there is no reason — no good reason — why we shouldn’t make it public.”
“You don’t get it,” I say.
“So explain it to me! Because so far, you’ve said nothing that has made any sense at all!”
As his voice gets louder, I realize the scattered people ringing the foredeck who were all previously engaged in their own conversations, have all stopped talking. They’re listening. To us. To this stupid, embarrassing argument333.
“Can you lower your voice?” I hiss.
“Why? Who cares? What am I saying that is such a big f—ing secret Lex?”
“I care! I’m just trying to do the right thing. I’m always trying to do the right thing, okay? And you make it impossible. You are the wrong thing. You’ve always been the wrong thing. You’re a mistake I keep making and I don’t know why and I want to stop, but lately you’re just always around, so I can’t. It’s your fault!”
“You can’t stop because you don’t want to! This is crazy. There is nothing wrong with us actually being together. It’s no big deal.”
