#foster haley

2/6 Mood Board for Opposite - Mary Jane Vanderbilt

Foster had the impression that it was typically poor people who got overly excited about their birthday. For most of the world's population, birthdays were the one day a year that someone could let loose and be a little more reckless than any other day of the year. They could cheat on their diet by having some cake, or justify spending money on something they may not need, or whatever the fuck. But Foster did whatever he wanted every day of the year, so his birthday didn't bring any added excitement to his day.

He did appreciate the recognition from his friends and colleagues that it was his birthday, though. Foster agreed that his birth had been a happy occurrence and should be recognized by as many people as possible. He certainly didn't want anyone he knew to give him a gift of any kid - no one knew him well enough to have any idea what he'd like - but Foster did genuinely accept the well-wishes he was offered from those who knew today was his birthday.

Mary Jane didn't ask him what he wanted to do for his birthday, and Foster didn't tell her anything specific. He was sure he'd be satisfied with whatever she came up with. MJ was, after all, the only person who could probably find him a gift he actually enjoyed. But even just an evening with her, sharing his favorite meal and the oldest Scotch they could find would be enough for him. He would even keep the thoughts that this day was any different from any other to himself. If Mary Jane wanted to celebrate his birth, Foster wouldn't stop her.

As expected, Mary Jane had planned a special evening for Foster. He came home to their dining room set up like a five-star restaurant. Their chef had prepared a beautiful slab of Wagu, MJ had hired someone to bid on a 100-year-old bottle of Scotch that had been flown over on a private jet, and she'd even read an article Foster had previously mentioned so that they could discuss it, even though Mary Jane had zero interest in the subject matter. It was all Foster could ever want or need for his birthday.

Mary Jane had also ordered him ties that matched the exact shade of the dresses she'd chosen for the dinners and events they were attending for the rest of the year. Plus, new sets of cufflinks to match her jewelry, and she had sent all of his dress shoes out for polishing. Foster figured that was more of a gift for her, but he'd accept it. He'd never oppose MJ's desire for them to look aesthetically pleasing and cohesive.

Foster didn't work on Sundays. Ever since becoming a father and fixing the broken parts of his marriage, he hadn't worked on Sundays. It hadn't been as easy to relax and wind down in the beginning, but now he had it down to a science. On Sundays, Foster was just a regular Joe like the rest of the dads around the world. It was hardly just a part he played, either. Sunday Foster was just as much a part of his personality as the rest of him.

A favorite Sunday activity of Foster's was doing the crossword puzzle with his kids. Crosswords were a good way to make them smarter, and he'd already determined that they hadn't inherited his IQ naturally. No worries, though, because they had a genius for a father. There was no reason they couldn't be just as smart if they applied themselves! Well, maybe not just as smart, but at least the smartest kids in their classes.

"Seven letter word for 'All over the place'," Foster read, sliding the newspaper towards his son so he could see the letters they already had.

"Chaotic," Mary Jane mused from behind them, where she was spreading jelly onto a bagel for Rosemary. Their youngest was still half asleep in Foster's lap, leaning against him with her head lulled back against his chest.

"Second letter is R..." Alfie murmured, his brows creasing together as he thought through the clue. Foster watched on as his son flipped to a new page in his notebook and tried spelling out the words he thought it was. He was on the right track but misspelling the word by one letter. Veda leaned over to see what Alfie was writing.

"E-R-R-A-T-I-C..." She corrected, pointing to where the missing R should be.

"Erratic!" Alfie exclaimed triumphantly, writing the word in the little boxes. He liked to pretend he figured things out on his own, and Foster didn't blame him, but he still gave his oldest a "good job" nod of acknowledgment.

Foster Haley had never taken a vacation. He'd been working every day of his life since he tested out of elementary school. There was no way to be as smart as he was, and as young as he was, and not have to work your ass off. Plus, Foster's desire for greatness pushed him forward unlike anything else could. He once heard someone say that God didn't take vacations and decided that it applied to him more than any fictitious higher being. 

And until Foster married Mary Jane, he hadn't taken a vacation. However, his new wife claimed she vacationed (the fact that she'd turned the word into a verb almost lost him) every summer and that she didn't plan on stopping now. MJ told him that he didn't have to come with her, but she shrugged her slender shoulders, and Foster knew that he absolutely did have to go. 

That's how Foster ended up on a beach, laying on a blanket next to his wife. He could admit that Bora Bora was beautiful and that the weather was nice and the drinks were good. What he didn't get was lying around doing nothing. Was he truly meant to "soak up the sun" for days? He very well may go crazy if that was the case. 

"I can feel you sulking," Mary Jane grumbled from next to him. Foster rolled over to prop himself up on an elbow. He stared at her until she opened her eyes and looked over at him. "If you say you're bored, I'm going to kill you." He continued to stare at her. Foster wouldn't say anything, but he was bored. 

Foster kept staring at his wife for a moment before sitting up and looking around. There was no one else around besides the waiters who were bringing them drinks, but they'd just gotten refills, so they would probably be alone for a while. Foster moved close to Mary Jane and began to walk his fingers down her stomach, heading towards her bikini bottoms. 

"Vacations are meant for peak relaxation, yes?" Foster asked his wife. He looked up just to see the slow grin spread across her face as his hand slipped beneath her bikini. MJ gave a brief nod of her head, still pretending that she wasn't interested in what he was doing. "And do you know when you're at your most relaxed?" 

Mary Jane hummed as Foster leaned over her. They both knew the answer without even needing to say it. Her most relaxed state tended to be after a few good orgasms when the endorphins were practically oozing out of her ears. In response to his question, MJ simply parted her legs a little more. 

Foster had never been a violent man. He was far too intelligent to stoop as low as throwing fists. There was always another way to take someone down without breaking a sweat; you just had to be patient enough to find it. And where he wasn't violent, he was patient. Foster understood that in many cases, good things came to those who waited. He'd figured out a long time ago that the key was to work smarter, not harder. The problem he was facing now, however, wasn't as easily worked through as mathematical physics. 

He'd never much cared for a personal life. Foster didn't see the point in having deep relationships when he knew the other person wouldn't be on his level. He didn't even mean the same intelligence level; he knew there weren't many people out there who could measure up to him in that field. The level Foster meant was one of emotional intelligence and the way they viewed the world. He couldn't be with a woman who only saw rainbows and sunshine. He didn't want to be with a soft woman who had a backbone made of jelly. Foster would chew a woman like that up and spit her out. 

Mary Jane Vanderbilt was not that type of woman. She was a forest fire, leaving devastation in her wake everywhere she went. Eighteen years old and on a level that most women wouldn't ever reach. Foster had known she was different from the moment he laid eyes on her. The fact that they'd gotten married after only a month proved to him they were supposed to be together. A man like him didn't make hasty decisions like that. 

Unfortunately, neither of them was the type of person who easily adapted to another person, even when that other person was their spouse. Decisions had been made, agreements reached, and now they were spending time apart to save their marriage. So, why did Foster feel so terrible all the god damned time? 

He had many negative qualities about him, he knew that, but Foster didn't go back on a deal or promise that he made. So, he wasn't going to give up on the vows he'd made to MJ or the promise he'd made to live apart while they worked through their issues. Even if it fucking hurt. Instead, Foster had decided to turn into a violent man. 

"I can't," Foster told his wife through gritted teeth. The only way he could keep from screaming was by locking his jaw. And when he couldn't scream, he broke things. Foster picked up another glass he kept on the bar at his office and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, and the shards joined the others on the floor. "Believe me, I know that's not what you want to hear." 

Foster wished that he could just say fuck it and go home to his wife. But he knew that neither of them would like the man he became if he started going back on the things he said he'd do. It was ingrained deep within his DNA to follow through on what he started. He couldn't change that about himself. Hell, Foster didn't want to change that about himself. Even for the woman he loved. 

Foster Haley was not above taking time out of his busy day to have sex with his wife. Ever since an unfortunate incident with a nanny who walked in to find them in a compromising position, it was necessary to schedule a time during the week to get it in. They'd never been the type of married couple to stick to evening sex a few times a month, but since having children, they'd had to get creative. Neither he nor MJ was interested in losing the spontaneity of their sex life. So, Foster blocked off time for it. 

"Legal has reviewed the documents you sent over already," Foster was saying when Mary Jane strolled in. She was wearing a long coat that seemed too much for the weather they were having. She was right on time for their appointment and, knowing his wife, wouldn't waste a second of it. "I've got another meeting, we'll discuss it another time." Foster told the men on his call. He didn't give them time to refute before hanging up and setting his status as away. 

Foster leaned back in his chair, quirking a brow at Mary Jane as she untied the belt at her waist. She dropped the coat to reveal that she'd dressed for the occasion. He'd never put it past his wife to turn a 2 PM rendezvous into something a little more scandalous. Mary Jane could pull off anything, but there was something about her in lingerie that really got Foster's heart rate going. 

"I wasn't aware this was a special occasion," Foster mused as MJ straddled him. "To what do I owe the extra surprise?" 

"Do I need a reason to surprise my husband?" MJ questions, raising a brow. Foster could very well turn this conversation into something, but there simply wasn't the time. He only had a fifteen-minute cushion between his "meeting" with MJ and his next meeting. Considering it had been a few days since they'd found time for more than hand stuff, they'd already be pushing it. 

It should really come as no surprise to anyone that Foster Haley was a scrooge. In general, he found holidays pointless. He didn't conform to any religion and thought that most holidays were overdone. However, now that he was a husband and a father, he'd agreed to keep his opinions to himself and smile for family pictures. That didn't mean he wouldn't still be a scrooge around the adults. 

"The party isn't over, honey," MJ said into his ear from behind, her tone a little singsong. The fake smile he'd had on all evening had fallen. He was tired of pretending to be interested in the friends of MJ's parents. He'd been making small talk all evening with people who weren't capable of anything but talking small. Liquor was helping, of course, but after a certain number of drinks, he got a little meaner than usual. 

"I'm smiling," Foster replied, giving his wife an overly fake smile. He put a hand on the small of her back and led her away from the partygoers. He found them a secluded corner and gently pushed MJ's back against a wall. Foster put his hand on the wall and leaned down. "My Christmas cheer is running low, and it's only December 23rd." He groaned, dropping his head slightly. This was a position and a tone only MJ would ever see or hear from him. 

"No one likes a scrooge, Foster," MJ replied, putting her hand on his cheek. She leaned up so that she could kiss him and then wiped her thumb across his lip to remove any lipstick left behind. "Suck it up; t's two more days." She finished with that, but the look in her eye reminded him that his life was on the line if he did anything to make their children's Christmas anything less than perfect. 

"Well that isn't true," Foster said, following MJ back towards the party. "Literally everyone in this room likes me." He didn't need to see his wife's face to know she was rolling her eyes. Foster never used the word "literally" unless something was literal, and his statement was. Everyone here liked him. Or, at least, they thought they liked him, but that was because he'd been exactly who they needed him to be. 

Foster didn't broadcast the fact that he had a younger brother. For the most part, he didn't talk about his family in general. Partially because he didn't care enough to talk about them but also for their protection. He didn't need his family to be harassed. That would only cause him more trouble. For the most part, they kept to themselves in Arizona and he did the same in London. Mary Jane had only met them a few times in the decade they'd been married and that's the way Foster liked it.

So no one really knew about Abbott, including the man that Foster would consider his "best friend" if he had to. He was sure that he'd mentioned having a younger brother in passing once or twice in the years he and Isaac had known each other but Foster also wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't. As harsh as it was, Abbott was simply irrelevant to his everyday life.

They'd never been close. Mostly due to the fact that by the time Abbott was born, Foster was well on his way to completing high school. There were 10 years between them but might as well have been a hundred. Foster was out of the house before Abbott could ever start retaining information. So their relationship had always been distant and both of them were fine with that. They stuck to their monthly five minutes 'catch up' calls and that was that.

Abbott hadn't ever come to London to visit until now. Why the kid thought it was okay to show up at Foster's doorstep randomly and coerce his wife into letting him in the gates was absolutely beyond Foster. Mary Jane was smarter than Abbott was clearly giving her credit for, of course. She was probably, more than anything else, curious to see how this would play out. As was Foster. He knew it would end in one simple request. Money. It was always money with his family.

Foster didn't yet know how much debt his little brother had gotten himself into. He didn't know that he had people looking for him who used force when demanding their money. He didn't know the hell-storm that young Abbott was about to try to bring into his life. But Abbott didn't yet know that Foster genuinely didn't care. Abbott had always been a betting man and he was betting on his brother having a soft spot for his family. He didn't know Foster well enough to know that the term 'family' applied to his wife and children only. He didn't care for anyone else.

Foster had had no choice but to invite Abbott along to dinner. He and MJ had already made the plans with Isaac and Sage and it was too late to cancel them. They'd had these reservations for months and it was easier to just slip the maitre d' a tip and get an extra chair than try to get another reservation that wasn't six months away. And Foster absolutely wouldn't be leaving his little brother at his home without supervision. He didn't know much about Abbott but he did know he had sticky fingers.

Foster and MJ sat on one side of the table with Isaac on the other side. Sage was running late due to a mishap setting up her next showing so the chair next to Isaac was empty for now. Abbott's chair had been pulled up to the end and he was leaning back in it as if he'd never been taught how to be a civilized person. For the most part, the adults were ignoring him. He couldn't follow along with their conversation anyway.

Abbott hadn't made a good impression on Isaac already. He'd honestly thought his brother was the most uppity asshole in this city until he'd met Isaac. The other guy hadn't even looked in his direction until he'd laughed at some stupid sounding shit that had happened at Isaac's office. Only then did Isaac look over at him and raised a brow. "Who's this?" He'd asked. Foster spoke before Abbott could and simply introduced him as. "Abbott. My brother." That had been that. So he was just sitting here, looking around while they talked a bunch of gibberish.

He'd ordered a drink, too, but it wasn't here yet and he was getting a little impatient. Abbott was looking around for a waitress or something when he noticed a girl making a beeline for their table. She certainly didn't look like she fit into a place like this as a diner so he figured it must be a waitress. An odd one but, hey, who was he to judge?

"Hi," She greeted, putting her hand on the back of the empty chair saved for Isaac's wife. "Sorry I'm..."

"Any chance my drink is coming any time soon?" Abbott interrupted, sitting up and leaning in on the table. "It's been like fifteen minutes...Are you guys even working?" Everyone, including the waitress, stared at him. And then the waitress looked at Isaac, her brows drawn in as she took the seat next to him.

"Abbott," Foster said through gritted teeth. "This is Sage. Isaac's wife." Abbott looked at her again and blinked in surprise.

"No shit? My bad, man." He let out a chuckle as he looked her over. Definitely not what he was expecting from a guy like Isaac. He was pretty sure no one could call a girl like Sage a 'trophy wife'. At least not a first-place trophy.

"Am I missing something?" Sage asked. She forced herself to smile at the newcomer and kept a hand on Isaac's leg so he wouldn't make even the slightest of scenes. Foster and Isaac were having a silent conversation that she'd learned not to try to decipher. She simply wasn't smart enough for that. So she looked at Mary Jane.

"Abbott Haley," Mary Jane said with a grin. "Foster's younger brother. Charming, isn't he?" Sage looked back to Abbott but he was too busy looking around for the waitress. The familiar feeling of Isaac's hand curling around the back of her neck had her looking back to him. She greeted him with a smile and a kiss.

The rest of the dinner went as normally as it possibly could with Abbott there. He complained about the portion size of the food and about how long his drink took to come. And about how Foster wouldn't tell him how much the check was when he asked. By the end of it, it was clear as to why Foster never mentioned that he'd had a brother in the first place.

"For your sake," Foster told Isaac and Sage as they all stood up to leave. "I hope you'll never have to see him again." Abbott made a face at that.

"Well, in that case," Sage said to Abbott, seeing no reason to actually be rude to him. "It was nice to meet you."

"Yeah, same." It didn't sound like he meant that but she didn't mind.

"And you can keep whatever you took from my purse," Sage added. "It's probably not much but if you need it, by all means..." She shrugged and smiled again. She'd really nailed the art of the subtly sarcastic comment after being with Isaac for so long. She leaned in towards Abbott, who looked a little stricken over the fact that she'd seen him. "You'd make a terrible magician."

"Get outside." Foster seethed under his breath. If you didn't know him, which for all intents and purposes Abbott didn't, it was a murderous enough tone to be scared of. Abbott rolled his eyes and slinked off. "I apologize," Foster grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's only been a few hours and you're already turning gray." Mary Jane brushed her fingers through her husband's hair and pouted slightly. A moment later, though, she was grinning.

"For your sake," Isaac spoke up, sliding a protective arm around Sage's shoulders. "Call me when he's gone. I think it's best I'm not in the same room with him again. Unless there are far fewer people around."

"Hmm, don't threaten me with a good time," Foster deadpanned. He and Isaac shook hands. Sage offered MJ a hug goodbye and the Westfield’s went on their way.

Mary Jane slid her hand into Foster's and intertwined their fingers together. She looked up at Foster with that mischievous little smile he loved so much and he had no choice but to return it. He simply couldn't resist her.

"This time tomorrow he'll be gone, I guarantee." She promised.