When Madison drew away, Sherry breathed a sigh of relief that it was over. But for the Fielding women it probably sounded like a happy sigh. Hopefully.

Mrs. Fielding drained her glass. “We’ll see where this leads to.”

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It was almost eleven when they arrived back home. Not that the apartment felt even remotely like a home to Sherry.

“Finally.” It was the first word Madison had said since leaving her grandmother’s mansion. Was it because she felt as exhausted as Sherry did?

After her evening with Madison’s grandmother, she also hadn’t been in the mood to talk, but the silence on their way back had felt uncomfortable nonetheless.

When they passed Rita Mae’s room, the all-too-familiar snoring buzzed through the closed door. Without hesitation, Sherry went to the couch, ready to put the pillows to the side in order to make room for her bedding while tracking Madison’s movement toward her bedroom.

Madison paused in front of the door. Shaking her head, she took hold of the door knob, hesitated, then growled and turned. “Do you really want to spend a second night on the couch?”

With one pillow in hand, Sherry froze. “You know about—?”

“I got myself something to drink last night and this snoring”—she pointed toward Rita Mae’s room—“would wake up the dead. So I wasn’t surprised you’d fled.”

Sherry threw the last pillow onto the coffee table. “Why ask, then?”

Madison kept silent as if she didn’t know how to answer. But then she stepped up to Sherry. “That’s kind of ridiculous, you know? I slept on this couch more than once and know how it makes you feel the morning after. On the other hand, my bedroom has a nice comfy bed with enough room for even three people. Believe me, I’m not too excited about sharing my bedroom, but it would be just stupid of you not to—”

Sherry put her hands on her hips. “Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you asking me to join you if that’s not what you really want?”

Instead of answering, Madison turned toward the floor-to-ceiling window and stared at the skyline as if the answer lay somewhere out there. “Maybe I just want to be nice?” It sounded more like a question than a statement. Who was she asking—Sherry or herself?

As much as she would have preferred the comfort of Madison’s bed as opposed to the tiny couch, Madison’s answer was anything but convincing. After their shared kisses at Mrs. Fielding’s and with what she had learned about Madison’s past Casanova-like behavior, Sherry was very much aware of Madison’s sexual exploits. It made sense now why she needed Sherry and Jake in her life to appear even halfway convincing as a responsible person.