Author: Parker, Weston
Date: 2019-01-06
Rights: Copyright 2019 Weston Parker. All rights reserved.

Brand New Man

Weston Parker

BrixBaxter Publishing

Contents

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Description

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Epilogue

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Description

It’s always been about the money.

To them. Not me.

Women swoon over my wallet, but it’s a façade. A ruse.

I keep to myself and always will.

Besides, one thing I’ve learned is you never pursue romantic relationships at work.

Especially not as the boss. The billionaire. The top shit.

A girl from my past shows up at a fundraiser. The one that got away in college.

She needs help changing the city for the better with a children’s home, but I have different ideas.

Crazily enough, the more money I spend, the more time I get with her.

And this time, I’m willing to pull out all the stops.

It’s hard not to slip back into my old ways, but this woman is the one.

She makes me want to be a brand new man.

Introduction

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Chapter 1

Max

My mouth welled with saliva as the nausea brewing in my gut almost bubbled over and up my throat. Closing my eyes, I shook my head, swallowed fiercely, and willed my body to get itself under control.

I white knuckled the steering wheel of my Pagani Huayra and took a few deep, steadying breaths. The nausea calmed a bit, and I focused on the sign hanging on the cement wall above the parking stall in which I was parked.

Reserved for CEO

Max Miller

Nova Corporation

Even after seven years it still felt strange to see my name under the letters ‘CEO.’ Strange, but right. This job was my life. And there was nothing more important to me than seeing the company grow—just as it had been since it was founded all those years ago in my little college dorm room. A dream had become a very concrete reality in a short amount of time and I still had to pinch myself to remember that this was my life now. And I couldn’t have been more grateful.

Although, with the hangover I was currently nursing, I wished I didn’t have to go in to the office today. Staying back at my penthouse, alone, watching reruns of shitty sitcoms while sipping on a cocktail—of the dog that bit me, of course—would be much preferable to responding to emails and sitting through back to back meetings later this afternoon.

But duty called.

Groaning, I opened the gull wing doors of the Huayra and stepped out. Well, staggered out, I guess. It took me a moment to get my balance and I braced myself with one hand on the hood of the glossy black vehicle as the doors, currently opened like the wingspan of a bird of prey, slowly lowered back into place and sealed.

Pushing myself away from the support of the car I made my way over to the elevator, which opened up for me as soon as I pressed the button to call it. I stepped in and jabbed the button at the bottom of the pad that read ‘Nova Corp’ rather than choosing a floor number. It was on the very top level, floor eighty, and had a magnificent view of Los Angeles from every room. My office had the best view, naturally, looking out across West Hollywood. From the office tower’s central spot right in the middle of downtown LA. I was lucky to be able to see all the way to Beverly Hills from here.

It wasn’t until the elevator had passed the tenth floor that I realized Christmas music was playing. Thank God there weren’t any words blaring and it was just instrumental. I could better ignore it that way. It was only the last day of November, for fuck’s sake.

Couldn’t they hold off on the cheesy Christmas tunes for one more damn day?

Grumbling, I crammed my hands in the pockets of my wool business coat and nuzzled my chin into the lapel. It wasn’t all that cold this time of year in the city, but it was certainly chillier than us locals liked, and no matter how much the rest of the northern world grumbled about our sensitivity to the cold, we didn’t give a damn. With December one day away I was more than entitled to wear my winter coat and damn well enjoy it, though at this point I was inside the heated building and the comfort I took from it may have had more to do with my state of mind and body than the cold weather.

The elevator doors slid open and spit me out on the eightieth floor. It was awash in sunlight as I crossed the lobby to the double wide glass doors adorned with gold lettering declaring the space beyond as the ‘Nova Corp Head Office’.

I tugged the door open and stepped inside.

As usual, the office felt alive with busy bodies rushing to and fro going about their work. People hurried past with a quick ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’ as they went about their business. Then, when I passed the reception desk, I heard my receptionist, Casey, clicking her tongue at me.

I shrugged out of my jacket and hung it on a hook near her desk as Casey rested her chin in her hands and arched an auburn eyebrow at me. “Good morning, Max.”

“Casey,” I nodded, as I tightened my tie at my throat.

“How was your Thursday evening?”

I knew the word ‘Thursday’ had been thrown in there intentionally. “Went out with some old friends and got a little too carried away.”

“So it would seem. You smell like a bar.”

“I do not.”

“Alright,” Casey shrugged as she dropped her head to go back to her work, which was scheduling out my days of the upcoming week. “You’re right. You don’t smell like spiced rum and tequila. I was lying.”

I frowned.

Casey smiled and tapped the side of her nose with her pen. “You can’t pull one over on me, Max Miller. I’m like a bloodhound. There’s cologne in your desk. Top right drawer. I suggest you use it before your afternoon meetings.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Where would I be without you, Casey?”

Casey stood up from her chair and walked around her cherry oak reception desk. It was a massive piece of furniture, full of drawers and shelves for her to keep her essentials, which ranged from anything between pens and sticky notes to sandalwood and vanilla candles. She doubled as a house keeper for Nova Corp and she kept the atmosphere more than pleasant.

Casey pressed a notebook into my hands as she passed me. “I made some adjustments to your schedule this morning. You had your call with Isla King at eleven, but I discovered she is getting on a flight to Rome at eleven thirty. So I figured I’d shuffle some things around. I know you’ve been trying to get through to her for a long time.”

“Weeks.”

“She’s a busy woman.”

“With connections we can use.”

Casey nodded. “Most definitely. Coffee?”

“Yes please,” I said as she walked away and down the hallway to the common kitchen in the middle of the office.

I watched her go, wondering why nothing had ever happened between the two of us. She was cute, and smart as hell, and just the sort of girl a guy would want to bring home to meet his family.

But, to me, Casey had always felt like more of a big sister. And, as a man with a younger sister, once I had that thought I couldn’t shake it. It was probably for the best. A personal relationship with a colleague was never a good idea, unless you were interested in something that was destined to go up in flames and make working together for who knows how much longer intolerably horrible.

Casey disappeared around the corner into the kitchen and I stalked from her desk to my office a mere twenty feet away. My door was unlocked and the blinds along my glass walls were all open. I liked to keep it that way. It could become too isolating, and spending my entire day locked up in my office out of sight from all my employees wasn’t good management.

It also made it impossible for my staff to determine whether or not it was safe for them to come and knock. I only drew the blinds and locked the door during important calls that could not be interrupted, and my team knew that.

I left my office door propped open and flicked the lights on before going over to my desk and taking Casey’s advice. I sprayed a bit of cologne in the air and walked through it before tapping the keyboard of my computer to wake it up.

Casey came back into the office minutes later. I had just sat down when she placed a mug of steaming black coffee in front of me. I picked up on notes of cinnamon and nutmeg and scowled. “Let me guess. You’ve already gone out and bought that Christmas coffee you love so much?”

Casey clasped her hands together and nodded. “You bet your ass I did. And you can make that face as much as you like. You left me in charge of all office supplies and that includes coffee.”

I lifted it to my lips, took a sip, and winced as I burned myself.

Casey put a hand on her hip. “Careful, Einstein. It’s hot.”

“Thanks,” I grimaced, putting my coffee down and fanning my mouth.

Casey watched me with an air of ‘I-don’t-know-how-else-I-can-help-this-guy’ before she reached into the pocket of her royal blue sweater. She held out a little Ziploc baggie. Inside were four aspirin. “I found these in one of the kitchen drawers. Take them. I’ll replace them when I go out for my lunch break.”

“I’m alright, Casey. Thanks though. I’ll just—”

She shook her head. “No. You have a busy day. And a lot is riding on your meetings. The intelligence agencies are not going to be impressed when the guy they hired shows up to the meeting looking and smelling like he just rolled out of a trucker bar.”

“Trucker bar?”

She tossed the baggie on top of my keyboard. “That’s how you’ll look in their eyes. Now channel your inner Tesla. Put your game face on, Max.”

Casey left, pausing in the doorway to my office to point at the baggie on my keyboard. Sighing in defeat, I opened the baggie and poured the four pills into my palm. I tossed them into my mouth and swallowed them dry.

Casey was watching me from her cherry oak desk. I locked eyes with her and opened my mouth wide, sticking my tongue out to show her I’d swallowed the damn pills. She giggled and shook her head as her cheeks warmed with a complimenting shade of pink. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and I looked away, knowing I was playing with fire.

I might see her as a sister, but that didn’t mean she saw me as a brother. And I didn’t want to lead her on. Not Casey. She was too pure and too sweet for that. And I needed her in my life. I wasn’t going to spoil a good thing by being my normal self.

The normal self I’d been last night, for example.

I’d almost taken a girl home with me. It had been a long time since I’d done that. She was a ten out of ten, with long black hair and full dark red lips. Her teeth had been spectacularly white. The sort of white you can’t stop looking at because you’re so damn confused as to how someone could maintain such a stark color. She’d smelled like coconut and sunscreen. Like summertime. And, with Christmas rearing its ugly head, I’d been drawn to the scent as well as her tan and her open toe heels.

After a few drinks and a couple of dances where we’d crushed our bodies up against each other and shared a few kisses, she told me her name was Maggie. I’d told her my name was Miller. She had no clue who I was or what I was worth and she was still interested.

But, as the night wore on, I tired of her. She had a couple more drinks and became looser lipped with her opinions. I like a woman with opinions. Hell, I like a woman who can challenge me and make me change my own opinions—but Maggie wasn’t a challenge. Her head was full of sawdust.

At three in the morning when I’d asked her if she wanted to head out and grab a bite to eat, she said anything gluten free, because if she had gluten it would make her terribly ill. Which was fine, aside from the fact that she was sipping her fourth beer of the evening.

A couple more moments like that sealed the deal and I bailed, heading home alone. As usual.

Now here I was, nursing a pounding head and a rolling stomach that I knew was going to last all day. My meetings would feel like pulling teeth. I had to stop doing this shit to myself.

My day was uneventful. I didn’t throw up, which, according to Casey and the rest of the office employees was a glowing accomplishment. Apparently they’d all placed bets on how long it would be before I either puked into the trash can under my desk or made a beeline to the bathroom to vomit in there. Needless to say, most of them were out twenty bucks.

I stepped out of my office at quarter after five. Most of the employees had already left, but Casey was still sitting at her desk preparing for the next morning. She looked up and smiled as I took my coat off the hook and shrugged into it. “Any plans for the evening, Max?”

I nodded. “Heading up to Keith’s place for dinner.”

“Wonderful. Make sure you actually eat something. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“Yes ma’am.”

I fixed the collar of my jacket in the mirror on the elevator. Then, down in the parking garage, I got into my Huayra and peeled out onto the busy LA street. I zipped through cars, the quick and sharp angles making my stomach churn even now.

It was ten to six when I pulled into Keith’s driveway. Keith was my stepfather. My stepbrother’s black Ford Escape was parked in the spot in front of me.

I sighed and looked up at the house through the windshield. I had to give Keith credit where credit was due. The white colonial home with black shutters looked exactly the same as my mother used to keep it, sparkly green, red and gold Christmas wreath on the front door and all.

Chapter 2

Laura

I was awake before my alarm on Friday morning, the last day of November.

When the alarm on my phone did go off, it was the sound of chirping birds and running stream water. I rolled over, causing my white sheets to rustle softly around me, and silenced the alarm. I smiled and stretched my arms over my head, indulging in a yawn as I enjoyed the pulling of all my muscles in my full body stretch. I arched my back, gritted my teeth, and groaned as my body sang happily.

After my stretch I sat up and swung my legs over the bed. My full glass of water sat on my nightstand, and I picked it up and drained the whole thing before padding over to my dresser. I pulled on my black leggings and matching zip up sweater. Then I put on my socks and running shoes.

I headed into the bathroom to wash my face and pull my blonde hair up in a high ponytail. I slicked my fly-away hair down with a bit of water and hairspray. Before sliding my phone in the pocket of my sweater, I started the playlist I’d been enjoying for the last couple of weeks. Soon, as in tomorrow, I’d be playing Christmas music every chance I got.

But not before the first of December. It was tradition.

I brushed my teeth, spat, and gurgled mouthwash. Then I went into the kitchen, where my laptop was sitting on my white marble counter at the island. I slid onto one of the bar stools tucked under the ledge and opened my laptop.

After opening my inbox I found that I had seventeen new emails since last night when I went to bed.

“Oh hell,” I breathed, scanning the names beside the messages.

There was a lot to do before the fundraiser gala tomorrow night in West Hollywood. All of my vendors were confirmed and good to go. After five years of organizing this event I’d finally found the people and businesses I could rely on, and kicked the ones I couldn’t to the curb. With a wealthy and socially recognized group of attendees scheduled to come out for the evening, I had to make sure the service and experience were top notch. It was also key to getting them to write very big checks for my foundation, Laura’s Haven.

I was committed to getting as many homeless children and teens off the streets of Los Angeles as I could, and the December Gala fundraiser was my biggest fundraising night all year. I quite literally pulled in millions within a matter of hours. It had to go perfectly. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

I scrolled through the emails. Two attendees had to cancel due to last minute business emergencies, but one of them had written a check and was sending it with an associate and the other was going to transfer their donation to me electronically.

I opened the application hosting my schedule and to do list and typed in ‘send thank you basket to Gerrard Brown Cavanaugh for his electronic transfer.’ Most of the other emails were people confirming last minute details about decor, what time they should arrive, and which volunteers were going to be placed where.

I would have to see to all of that later on today at the office. Luckily I still had more than enough time to make sure I had all my ducks in a row before I hosted LA’s wealthiest socialites for six hours.

Butterflies took flight in my stomach.

“Keep your cool, Laura. You’ve got this. You do it every year,” I said to myself.

I slapped my laptop closed when there was a knock on my front door. The stool wobbled as I slid down and hurried to the door. When I pulled it open my best friend Ella was standing on my front steps, smiling at me.

“Morning,” Ella said cheerfully, as she rubbed her hands together. Like me, she was dressed in tight spandex and had her running shoes on. They were black with white soles and lime green stitching. “You ready to do this?”

I nodded. “Yes, just give me one second. I want to pack up my work bag first.”

Ella followed me back into my townhouse and closed the door behind her. “I can’t believe its December first tomorrow,” she said, as I hurried around my kitchen, packing up my tote bag with my notebook, planner, laptop, and granola bar.

“I know. I don’t know where the time went. It feels like just yesterday we were at crunch time for the fundraiser last year.”

“Are you stressed?” My best friend asked me, crossing her arms beneath her enviously perfect boobs, while cocking her head to the side.

I shrugged and put the tote bag on the stool I’d been sitting on moments before. “It comes and goes. One minute I’m calm and collected, and the next I feel like I’m going to explode with nerves. You?”

“About the same.”

“Then a run will do us both some good,” I grinned.

We spilled out onto the stairs at the front door of my townhouse. Ella hurried down to wait for me on the sidewalk as I locked the door and slid the key in the small zippered pouch in the waistband of my leggings. Then I joined her at the bottom of the stairs and pointed at the park across the street. “Park route today?”

“Works for me,” Ella said.

We both looked both ways down my street. In LA, residential streets like mine were hard to come by. Palm trees line the road, which wasn’t very Christmas-like but would soon be strung with multicolored lights nonetheless. People milled about on the sidewalks, walking their dogs or their children in their fall jackets and boots. We liked to celebrate the seasons in this city even though it never got cold enough to be considered winter weather, let alone fall.

When the coast was clear Ella and I jogged across the street. We crossed the sidewalk on the other side and started off with a brisk walk through the park to warm up.

“Are you going to shower at my place when we’re done?” I asked, as we rounded a corner on the park path that opened up to a fountain in the middle of the park.

“If that’s alright with you. It’s so much easier to just get ready at your place when we’re heading into the office right after.”

“And fuel efficient,” I added.

Ella tapped my ass and nodded ahead. “Alright. Let’s do this. Half an hour, no stops. Think you can keep up?”

I laughed. “Kiss my ass, Ella.”

Our run was as good as it always was. The first couple minutes and getting out the door were the hardest part, but once we had some momentum in our stride all the noise of the morning slipped away and I was able to focus my thoughts. Clarity.

When we slowed to a walk thirty minutes later my mind was sharp and full of answers to the problems I hadn’t even been confronted with yet today. I knew there would be many. And there would be more, tomorrow. With an event as big as this fundraiser, problems were impossible to avoid.

My legs were heavy and felt like jelly as we climbed the steps and I let us back into my townhouse. Ella took the guest bathroom on the first floor and I climbed the stairs to my bathroom to take my shower. The hot water was refreshing, and I ended my shower with one minute under ice cold water. There was no better combination.

After towel drying and taking the shower cap off that kept my hair dry, I got dressed in a pair of black jeans, a white blouse, and a black blazer. Then I went downstairs and brewed a pot of coffee.

She came out of the bathroom shortly after me. The coffee had finished brewing and I poured us each a cup. We took our coffee the same, with a dash of almond milk and two shakes of cinnamon.

I opened my fridge and frowned at the contents. “Alright. Breakfast option number one is an omelet. Number two, toast with peanut butter. I really need to go grocery shopping but everything’s just been so crazy this week.”

“I was thinking we should just pick up acai bowls on our way to the office,” Ella suggested, pursing her lips to the side of her white coffee mug and sipping her coffee.

“Great. That works for me.”

After finishing our coffees we stopped to pick up acai bowls at one of our favorite cafes on the way into the office. The employees knew us well and made sure to keep a flyer for my foundation up in their shop all the time. They knew today was the day before my big event, so they put extra strawberries in my bowl.

It was the perfect start to a busy day.

Ella and I got to my office downtown just after nine-thirty in the morning. Everyone else was already there, rushing to and fro, hands full of papers and cell phones raised to their ears as they worked tirelessly to make sure everything went off without a hitch tomorrow night.

Everyone smiled and waved as we walked by.

“I love this feeling,” Ella said when we slipped into my office.

I closed the door behind me and went and sat on the other side of my white minimalist desk from Ella. We both tucked our chairs in and set our bowls down in front of us. “You’ve had an affinity for chaos since I met you,” I said.

Ella popped the plastic lid off her bowl and tore the wrapper off her plastic fork. She stabbed a strawberry and popped it in her mouth. We were too close of friends for her to care about covering her mouth while she spoke. “And you have not. That’s what makes us a perfect combination. Sugar and spice.”

“Naughty and nice.”

Ella pointed her fork at me. “Absolutely.”

I mixed my bowl up and sighed. “I’m so looking forward to Sunday morning. The event will be done. We’ll know how much money we raised and whether or not the children’s home project will be feasible.”

“It will be. We’ve looked at all the projected numbers a thousand times, Laura. We’re going to have enough to make it work. Your children’s home isn’t a dream anymore. We’re going to do it.”

I smiled. “I wish I had a bottle of champagne to make a toast to that.”

Ella held up her acai bowl. Giggling, I lifted mine too, and we tapped the plastic edges together. Ella gave me a knowing smile. “In thirty six hours you’ll see I was right. And the best part?”

“Yes?”

“It will also be Christmas time. Finally.”

Chapter 3

Max

The gull wing doors closed behind me as I walked up the driveway. It had been repaved the summer before my mother passed away and still, somehow, it looked brand new. Keith must have power washed it once a month for the two years following her death in an effort to keep everything as pristine as she would have wanted.

If that was what true love looked like, I sure as shit did not want it.

I had no interest in carrying the burden of a loved one’s expectations once they were in the grave. It sounded like torture to me. Or just plain madness.

Stopping at the front door, I rolled my shoulders for a moment. My mother’s wreath seemed to glare at me, the little red ornaments embedded in the curls of pine winking in the glare of the sun at my back.

“Hey Mom,” I said under my breath before raising my fist and knocking softly. Even though she’d been gone for two years, this house still felt like she was in it. Like it couldn’t exist without her.

But it did.

My stepbrother Hayden opened the door. A goofy smile stretched his cheeks and he gave me a one armed hug. He seemed to get stronger every time I saw him.

“That’s some grip for an accountant,” I said dryly.

Hayden thumped me on the back and closed the front door behind me. The foyer smelled like citrus and cinnamon. My mother used to make little packets that she would boil on the stove. Full of things like cloves and cinnamon sticks, they made the house smell like whatever season it was. Keith had apparently maintained the tradition. Or he was simmering the old packets she had in storage over the stove. I didn’t care either way.

“Come on in. Dad is in the kitchen and dinner should be ready in twenty minutes or so. Want a drink? Rum and coke?”

Hayden knew my poison. I shook my head. “No thanks. I’m alright.”

“Water?”

“Sure.”

I followed Hayden down the hall, past the stairs, and into the kitchen at the back of the house. Big cardboard boxes were tucked along the back wall out of the way. My mother’s handwriting on the sides stated ‘Christmas Decorations.’ I sighed and slid my arms out of my jacket.

The family room was joined with the kitchen. The back of the sofa was pressed up against the carpet where it met the tile kitchen floor and I draped my jacket over the back of it before rolling up the sleeves of my shirt.

Keith, hovering over the stove, turned to give me a welcoming smile. “Good to see you, Max.”

“Keith,” I tipped my head.

My stepfather hadn’t aged a day in the decade I’d known him. His beard was still gray with only a bit more white than it used to have, and it was perfectly trimmed and neatly kept. His warm brown eyes were framed with long gray and black lashes. He was wearing a green and black plaid button up. I was pretty sure my mother had bought him that shirt the Christmas before she passed away.

Keith gestured at the stove. “I’m cooking curry.”

“Sounds good.”

Hayden emerged from the fridge, where he’d been rummaging around for a bottle of water. He tossed it to me and went about mixing himself and Keith a rum and coke. As he poured rum over ice in two crystal glasses he nodded at the Christmas boxes. “It’s that time of year already. Dad and I will be putting up the lights over the weekend.”

“Fun.”

Hayden and Keith exchanged a glance before my stepbrother said, somewhat timidly, “You’re welcome to come and help if you’d like.”

I almost laughed. Almost. Instead, I unscrewed the cap on the water bottle, swallowed three massive gulps, and shook my head. “No thanks.”

“Well, the offer doesn’t expire,” Keith said, lifting the lid off a pot on the stove and stirring the contents. The rich, coconut and spice scent of curry wafted all around the kitchen. My stomach didn’t lurch like I expected it to. The hangover was abating and I was optimistic that I’d be able to get some food in my gut.

“If I change my mind I know where to find you,” I said. They both knew what I was actually saying: I know you two will be doing Christmas shit all weekend so I’m going to stay as far away from here as humanly possible.

“Catherine said she’ll probably come by,” Keith said.

“Good for her. She’s always liked Christmas. Give her the easy jobs, will you?” I asked.

Keith and Hayden both nodded. “Obviously,” Hayden said.

I drained the rest of the water bottle and put it in the recycling bin near the back door. When I came back to sit at the kitchen island both my stepbrother and stepfather were giving me skeptical looks.

“What?” I asked, trying my best not to scowl at their concerned expressions.

Hayden licked his lips. “Is—is everything alright, Max? You seem a bit off. Rundown.”

“Wow. Thanks for noticing.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just mean Dad and I have noticed and we’re worried you’re not taking care of yourself.”

I have millions of dollars sitting in my bank account. How could I not be taking care of myself?

“I’m fine,” I said. “You know how things get this time of year. It’s intense. Work is demanding and security is important this time of year. Clients have higher needs. Once all this Christmas nonsense is over I’ll be batting a thousand again. No need to worry about me.”

Hayden frowned. It made him look almost like his face was melting. “Christmas should be a time to relax and enjoy being with your family. Don’t you have people at Nova Corp who can help you manage some of the workload?”

Enjoy being with your family, I thought bitterly. My real family was dead—or wished they were. My mother had been gone a little over two years. My father since I was a baby. And my dear sister Catherine was afflicted with multiple sclerosis and I saw on a daily basis how brutal her struggle was.

Keith came and leaned on the island across from me. “Sorry to always be on your case, Max. We know you can handle yourself. It’s just hard to get a read on you sometimes, so we’re left to speculate and hope that you’re alright.”

Keith. Good guy through and through. The man of my mother’s dreams. The man who showed me how to ride a motorcycle and change my brakes. Hell, he taught me everything I knew about cars.

And just because he and Hayden weren’t blood didn’t mean they weren’t family.

I sighed. “I know. You both have good intentions. I’ll find a way to alleviate the pressure at work.”

Hayden and Keith both smiled at me and Hayden thumped me on the back. He didn’t know his own strength and I grunted with the force of it. “Sorry Max. But I’m glad to hear it. Now, you sure I can’t sell you on a rum and coke?”

I gave him a wry smile as he walked around the island to the fridge. “Alright. Force my hand why don’t you.”

By the time my rum and coke were sitting in front of me, Keith announced that dinner was ready. He pulled bowls out from an upper cupboard and made a crack about how tomorrow he’d be eating out of the Christmas dishes. My mother’s Christmas dishes. They had little houses on them with a snowman in the front yard. The fake snow was outlined in silver glitter.

Keith handed us each a bowl, which we filled up with steaming yellow chicken curry and brought to the dining room table. We sat and ate, and I endured the torture of listening to the two of them talk about how they wanted to put the outside lights up this year. Apparently Keith had purchased a blow up Santa, which I knew my mother would have thought was terribly tacky.

I didn’t say a word.

“So, how is Catherine?” Keith asked. “I invited her and she was supposed to come this evening, but she ended up having to stay late at the cafe.”

“Yeah. Some of her coworkers are kind of flaky. She’ll pick up any shift she can while she’s feeling good. You know how she is,” I said. I’d told her a thousand times my money was her money, but she wouldn’t have it. I admired her for it, but it didn’t change the fact that I wished so desperately to make her life easier and more comfortable.

“She loves that little coffee shop,” Hayden said, before shoveling curry into his mouth.

“It’s a good place for her. She likes the girls she works with and her boss is flexible with her hours. When things get tough she can take as much time off as she wants without having to worry about losing her job,” I said.

“Tell her we miss her?” Keith said.

I nodded. “I will. Can I pack up a container of curry and bring it to her?”

“Of course,” Keith grinned. “I know it’s not as good as what Valerie used to make, but I gave it my best shot.”

“Mom would have given you a gold star, Keith,” I said.

My stepfather smiled down into his bowl and the three of us went a little quiet. He sighed and when he spoke, he didn’t look up at me or Hayden. “This time of year is when I miss her the most.”

“Me too,” Hayden said.

It didn’t bother me to hear them expressing how much they missed my mother. She was a beautiful soul who brought light and warmth to everyone she met. Not having her around anymore was like not having a heartbeat anymore. I just felt empty. Hayden and Keith still seemed to get on alright. Sure, they had their weak moments, like that time I’d come over and found Keith on his knees in the living room after knocking over one of my mother’s china dishes while he was vacuuming. He’d been literally sobbing over the broken pieces of china. Sobbing.

He hadn’t been able to pull himself together, so I swept up the broken shards, threw them away, and reminded him that it was just a plate. We hadn’t spoken for weeks after that. It was impossible to know if that was because he was embarrassed, or because he was angry at me for so easily throwing out my mother’s china.

But china and Christmas plates and decorations were nothing to me but constant reminders of the fact that she was gone. If I had it my way I’d have done away with all of it.

Especially the damn Christmas dishes.

And she wouldn’t have wanted us all holding on to her in the form of her possessions. She loved her things, sure. She loved to decorate and make her house feel like a home. She loved to sit by the fireplace with a good book cuddled under a soft blanket sipping Earl Grey tea.

But she loved all of us more than those things, and the way Hayden and Keith oriented their lives around her possessions made me wonder if they ever really knew her at all.

Perhaps they couldn’t know her the way Catherine and I did. And I couldn’t fault them for that. I was also painfully aware of the fact that they didn’t know how to behave around me or Catherine anymore. It was like they were always walking on eggshells. It all made sense, of course, but I wished I could change it. I wished they would stop treating me like I was as fragile as the damn china dish Keith had smashed to smithereens.

But that’s what family was for. To hover. To worry. To care.

Keith reached for his rum and coke and lifted it up. “To Valerie.”

I didn't say anything as I lifted my own glass. We finished the rest of the meal in comfortable silence.

Well, I was comfortable. Silence was better than talking. Keith and Hayden might have been going out of their minds for all I knew, trying to figure out what I was thinking about.

Which was my bed. And my quiet penthouse. A place free from prying eyes and concerned stares, just awaiting my arrival. A place that was my own and untouched by memories of my mother and what I had lost.

A place with no reminders of Christmas.

Chapter 4

Laura

I stacked my cue cards, tapping the bottom of them on the kitchen counter, and then paced the floor between my island and dining room table.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. I am pleased to welcome you back to the fifth annual fundraiser for Laura’s Haven. Your attendance is greatly appreciated and I am grateful for your continued support and determination to make this foundation a success. It is my pleasure to welcome our new donors this year, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzhuberts.” I paused, looking down at the cards. No matter how many times I’d run through my speech I couldn’t pronounce the name of one of the couples who were new attendees this year. “Fitsburt. No. Fitshubertusson? Ugh,” I groaned, rubbing my temples. I was never going to get it right.

I put the cue cards face down and walked away from them, needing a distraction. More than a little stressed, I made my way upstairs to my bedroom. I passed my gown, which was hanging on the back of my closet door, winking at me in all its rhinestone studded glory, and went into the bathroom to wash my face. I exfoliated and moisturized.

Then my cell phone started to ring, from all the way back downstairs, of course. I padded my face dry and hurried back down to answer my phone. “Hey Ella,” I said.

“You sound out of breath.”

“I just ran down the stairs.”

“Ran?”

“Yes, I know. I had to hurry otherwise I’d miss your call.”

Ella laughed softly. “Okay. Okay. How are you? Ready for tomorrow?”

“No. I can’t pronounce the last name of the new—”

“Fitzhubertussen,” Ella said effortlessly.

“Wait. Say that one more time.”

Ella repeated the name, and then I tried. This went back and forth a couple of times until I managed to say it cohesively. Then I said it nearly thirty times over, committing it to memory.

“You should write it down phonetically,” Ella suggested.

“Huh?”

Ella sighed. “On your cue cards. Spell it out how it sounds rather than how it’s spelled. That will make it easier for you to pronounce if you’re nervous.”

“Clever.”

“You’re welcome. Now have a glass of wine or three, like me. It will help mellow you out.”

I giggled. “Good advice. How are you doing? Are you ready?” As Ella answered I went about pouring myself a glass of Merlot.

“I’m good, I think. The nerves come and go. Sometimes I’m super calm and the next minute I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest. But, like every year, I know we’ll be fine once we get there and the evening begins.”

“When there’s no more time left to worry,” I said, taking a sip of wine. The first one was always the best.

“Exactly. And I’m optimistic. Maybe I’ll meet a handsome billionaire this year and he’ll whisk me away from this life and we can spend our days on a beach in Bali.”

“Bali, huh?”

“Or Tahiti. Or Fiji. I’m not picky, really.”

“Perfect. That’s what billionaires go for, right?”

Ella laughed. “I wouldn’t know.”

I dropped down on my sofa and pulled a white fluffy blanket over my lap. Kicking my feet up on the coffee table, I sank into the back of the sofa and put my phone on speaker. “You know, walking out with a billionaire wouldn’t be so bad. I could convince him to give money to our cause. Then the children’s home would definitely happen.”

“And it would be boujee as hell.”

I snorted. We both cascaded into a fit of laughter. “Canopy beds for all.”

“And three ply toilet paper.”

“Yes!” I cried. My wine sloshed dangerously to the edge of the wine glass. “And a library. And a computer and private room for every child.”

“Now we’re really dreaming.”

“A billion dollars can get you a lot.”

Ella sighed. “It sure could. Well. Considering that neither of us were born into money, and had to put ourselves through school, we’ve done pretty well for ourselves. Don’t you think?”

“Hell yes,” I said. “Let’s do a shot to that tomorrow night.”

“Before or after your speech?”

I pursed my lips. “I’ll let you know how I feel about that tomorrow.”

“Alright. I’m going to hold you to it though. One shot.”

“Deal.”

I could hear Ella sipping her wine through the phone. She swallowed. “Maybe getting our drink on tomorrow night is what will attract the wealthy men to us. Care free women and all.”

“Irresponsible women. We’re the hosts. We have to keep it professional.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts.”

Ella groaned. “Fine. But do you want to know what the real dream would be?” When I didn’t answer she continued with her train of thought. “Love. Can you imagine being in love with a guy worth more than a billion dollars?”

“Life isn’t a romance novel, Ella. How many glasses of wine have you had?”

“Only two.”

“Maybe you should call it quits.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Ella snapped playfully. “But I’m serious. What about love. I think we’ve both missed out on plenty of opportunities because we’ve been so busy with the foundation. Don’t you ever wonder about it?”

“About love?” I asked, skeptically.

“Yes.”

I shrugged even though she couldn’t see me. “Not really.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Seriously. It’s overrated, El. I’ve tried and failed miserably. Every guy I’ve ever dated has only ever wanted something from me, or liked the idea of being with me.”

“Well, those guys weren’t worth your time.”

“I don’t think any guy is,” I said, as I rolled my wine around in my glass. I finished the last four mouthfuls.

Ella scoffed. “You can’t say you’re done with love if you’ve never felt it.”

“Sure I can. I have other things to worry about. It’s not everyone’s journey to find a guy, Ella. I learned that a long time ago. I don’t have to follow that traditional path. I’m more than happy with my life the way it is and with who I have in it.”

“Sounds like a way to protect yourself from getting hurt.”

“Or from getting distracted,” I said. “Kids are depending on me. I want to dedicate my time and energy to them. Not to some guy.”

“Alright, forget I said anything.” Ella said. We were both quiet for a minute. I untangled myself from beneath my white blanket and went back to the kitchen where I poured myself another glass. If Ella could hear what I was doing she didn’t say anything about it. Instead she asked, “Are you still coming to my mom and dad’s place on Christmas day?”

“If the invite is still there,” I said, as I screwed the cap back on the wine bottle. I didn’t buy corked wine. Too much effort.

“Of course it is. They’re looking forward to having you. I usually go over to their house around ten in the morning. You’re welcome to come over anytime.”

“I was thinking later in the afternoon. Maybe around three?”

“Sure thing. But you can come earlier if you want. We just have a low key start with coffee and pastries, oh and gifts. It’s nice. I think you’d like it.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“Have you heard from your mom and dad this week?”

My parents were off on a whirlwind adventure. They’d been travelling the world via a cruise ship, which sailed across the globe and stopped at over one hundred and twenty different ports. If my memory was correct their itinerary had them currently in Australia.

“They sent me an email on Monday. They’re having a great time. I think my mom is getting a little sick of the cramped cabin, but it’s a small price to pay for being able to see so much.”

“Do you miss them?” Ella asked.

“Terribly,” I admitted.

Christmas without my family was going to be hard. It was something we’d talked about when they first told me they were considering this trip. They didn’t want to leave me behind to spend Christmas alone.

But I’d steadfastly assured them that I could handle spending one Christmas alone. They couldn’t give up such a great opportunity all because I wasn’t willing to be by myself for the holidays. When Ella’s family had stepped up and offered to include me in their festivities it eased my mother’s mind.

I never voiced aloud how badly I wished they were going to be home for Christmas. It was my favorite time of the year and spending the time from Christmas Eve through New Year’s at my mom and dad’s house was the highlight for me. I liked feeling like a kid again for a time. I slept in my old room, woke up and stayed in pajamas all day, and indulged in treats and plenty of food over the seven day period. We’d play games, drink too much wine, and nurse our fat heads in the morning with cups of tea and slices of cranberry lemon loaf.

“They’ll be home before you know it,” Ella said, in an obvious effort to make me feel better.

“Yeah. I hope so. May feels very far away now.”

“It is far away, babe. But you can do it. And when you need company I’m only just a phone call away.”

I smiled. “I know. Thanks Ella. I love you.”

“Love you too. Now, we better get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

Chapter 5

Max

The stares I received from people on the sidewalk outside of The Java Corner were a common occurrence. My Huayra definitely didn’t blend in with the middle class environment. The sidewalks here were beat up, and people dressed in casual urban clothes like distressed jeans and combat boots. My suit, tie, jacket and Italian sports car didn’t belong. Neither did my Rolex or hairstyle, for that matter.

But I didn’t give a damn.

I hopped up on the curb and beeped the car alarm as I crossed the sidewalk to the coffee shop. In one hand I held the container of curry that Keith had sent me off with. It was still warm and had fogged up inside, making the contents almost impossible to see.

A bell chimed above my head when I stepped inside and it was like walking into an invisible wall. The smell of coffee flooded my nose, and after I stood there for a minute I picked up on other scents—cranberries, chocolate, vanilla and more I couldn’t quite identify.

Catherine, my younger sister by two years, was standing behind the cash register ringing up a customer—the only other customer in the cafe. He was a middle aged man I’d seen in here a few times before. He ordered the same thing every time, a hazelnut latte with extra foam. He would sit in the corner seat by the window and read, while occasionally glancing up to watch people walk by.

My sister caught my eye over his shoulder as she reached for his change. She gave me a smile and nodded at the display case, which was her way of saying ‘pick what you want, it’s on the house.’

She looked good tonight. Her long black hair was swept off her face in a neat bun and her green eyes were bright and clear. The apron tied around her waist was stained with coffee and wet spots from leaning against the counters.

Catherine moved behind the espresso machine as her customer went and claimed his customary table by the window. I stepped up to the counter and scanned the pastry display.

“It’s late,” Catherine said, as she pulled espresso shots and steamed milk.

“I know. Keith and Hayden were especially chatty tonight. Brought you some curry,” I said, as I held the container out of her reach, then put it on the counter between us.

Catherine arched an eyebrow. “Is that Mom’s recipe?”

“Yeah. Keith took a stab at it. Not bad, I must say. Not as spicy, but that’s alright.”

She nodded knowingly. “Keith could never handle spice. Neither could Hayden. Mom changed the recipe when they moved in, remember?”

“Oh, I remember. We were miffed about it for weeks.”

Catherine grinned as she poured the milk over the shots and hazelnut syrup. Then she called out to the customer, who hurried over to claim his latte. He thanked her and returned to his spot while happily sipping foam from the edge of the cup. Not the most sophisticated move, but somehow it made me happy.

Catherine put a hand on her hip and waved her other arm behind the pastry case. “What’ll it be this evening, Max? Chocolate croissant? Maple scone? Cheese danish?”

I chuckled and shrugged out of my jacket. As I draped it over one arm I pointed at a fruity looking pastry near the front of the glass. “That thing. The raspberry white chocolate scone I guess it is.”

“A wise choice,” she declared. Catherine gave the glass door on the other side of the case a great heave and it slid open. As she put my scone on a plate she said, “All the Christmas pastries will take over tomorrow. Our first shipment shows up at five in the morning.”

“How horrible.”

“No, I like it! You’re the only Scrooge in the Miller family.”

“I’m no Scrooge,” I said defensively, as my sister came out from around the counter. I grabbed the container of curry from the counter and followed her to our table. It was a table for two on the opposite side of the cafe from the other customer. We still had a nice view of the people going by on the sidewalk. “I just don’t see why people get so worked up over a holiday. There’s no sense in it.”

“There isn’t supposed to be any sense in it,” Catherine said, as she lifted the corners of the lid. She peeled it back and the unmistakable aroma of curry wafted up in the air between us. She breathed it in and smiled with contentment. “Smells like Mom’s.”

I leaned forward to rest my chin in my hand. “So all the Christmas shit doesn’t bug you? For real?”

Catherine shrugged. “The first year without Mom sucked. Actually, so did last year. But it wasn’t because it was Christmas. It was because she wasn’t there. I think I’m just better at telling the difference between the two things than you are.”

“I’m supposed to be the wise one of the two of us. Older brother and all.”

“Means nothing.”

“Sure it does. I have two extra years of life and knowledge on you.”

“And you hate Christmas. No wise person hates Christmas. Sure, it’s become hella commercialized, but it’s magical in its own way.”

“Oh God. Now you sound like one of those cheesy elves working for a mall Santa.”

Catherine picked up her spoon and took a bite of curry. She must have liked it, because she quickly shoveled in a few more before speaking again with her mouth half full. “I would really like that job, thank you very much.”

“Someone’s gotta do it, I guess.”

Catherine switched the subject on me. “So is Hayden still bulking up?”

“Bulking?”

Catherine nodded and stirred the curry. “Yeah. He was getting into lifting weights last time I saw him. The guy spends like eight hours a week at the gym these days.”

“Makes sense.”

“What does?”

“He hugged me when I got to the house earlier today. I thought my head was going to pop right off my shoulders.”

Catherine gave me a deadpan look and blew a strand of black hair out of her face. “Was that supposed to be funny?”

“No.”

My sister shook her head at me and went in for the last few bites of curry. “Hayden’s cool—and he’s getting his shit together. You should be happy for him.”

“Never said I wasn’t.”

“Never said you were, either,” she said, pointing at me with her fork. Then she pointed the utensil back at herself. “See? Me. Wise one.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh please. And I am happy for him by the way. He’s made something of himself and found his niche.”

“You should tell him that. You do know he’s been trying to get on your good side for over a decade now, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

“When Keith and Mom got together, all Hayden wanted was to be ‘in’ with you. To hang out with you and your friends, you know? But, in the end, he had to make his own way. Which turned out fine. I think he just wants to feel like you’re brothers.”

“But we aren’t brothers.”

Catherine put her utensil down and folded her arms on the table. The look she gave me was pure disapproval. “Yes—you are. Don’t say shit like that, Max. Keith and Hayden have been nothing but good to us since the day they stepped into our lives. They made it better in their own way. It’s high time you let them in.”

I sighed and slumped back in my chair.

“You should listen to me. The wiser sibling is never wrong. Besides, you look like shit. You should try to take it easy for the holidays.”

I raked my fingers through my hair. “Everyone keeps telling me that.”

“Maybe you should listen to them.”

“Nah.”

“Max.”

“What?”

Catherine shook her head and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. Her pink lipstick was still, somehow, perfectly in place. “All I’m saying is to go easy on yourself. December isn’t easy for us Miller kids. And we have to stick together. So don’t you dare block me out like you did last year, okay?”

Guilt crawled around inside me, unfurling like a snake ready to lunge at its prey. “Okay, Catherine. I’m sorry. I never meant to leave you alone last year.”

“You didn’t. I had Keith and Hayden. But I wanted you, too. Family. That’s what the holidays are all about. The sooner you wrap your head around that the sooner this time of year won’t feel like a roundhouse kick to the teeth.”

I chuckled. “An accurate analogy.”

“I try,” she shrugged.

Catherine was the only person in my life who could tell me the brutal truth and not ruffle my feathers. She and I had been through a lot together, and when she was diagnosed with MS at the early age of thirteen I’d become her fierce defender. Nobody messed with my baby sister without getting messed with back by me. She was mine to protect.

That feeling had intensified after our mother died. I felt like I needed to fill two roles now—big brother and parent. But she didn’t expect that of me. All she wanted was Max. The old Max. The Max who could always make her laugh harder than anyone else. The Max who would break the rules just to make her smile.

I couldn’t deny that I wouldn’t mind having that Max back either. But life had weathered me, and Catherine was all I had. She was the brightest light in my life and knew it for the burden it was.

After she finished eating, more customers came into the cafe. I sat there and responded to work emails on my phone while she helped with their orders and began closing up shop. I wiped the tables down for her, never afraid to do a bit of real work for a change, as she cleaned the espresso machine and prepped all the products for the opening shift.

When she was done she hung up her apron, ushered out the hazelnut latte customer who was still content in his little corner of the cafe, and flicked off the lights. I waited for her out on the sidewalk as she locked everything up. Then we got in my car and I drove her back to her apartment.

I hated that Catherine lived on her own. I also hated that she only had a one bedroom apartment. She made do with the money our mother had left us and her paychecks from the cafe. She was a financially wise soul and I knew she would be able to take care of herself, but it didn’t stop me from wishing she’d let me put her up in a nicer place in a safer area.

But she insisted she was happy here. Alone.

It made no sense to me.

Especially because when I got home later that night and stood in the middle of my empty penthouse I found myself wondering how feeling so alone could be a choice someone would make willingly.

Chapter 6

Laura

Standing backstage was, quite possibly, the most nerve wracking part of the whole evening. My palms were sweating but since the skirt of my gown was chiffon, I didn’t dare touch the material. It flowed around my ankles, dotted with tiny shimmering crystals, as I moved to pull back a corner of the silver curtain to peer out at the round tables below.

There were nearly a hundred people there already and we still had half an hour to go before the doors closed and the event started. The tables seated ten people each. White tablecloths matched white seat covers, and the tall centerpieces were crystal filled vases with a white winter tree branch protruding from the middle. The branch fanned out over the table about a foot and a half over everyone’s heads, and little crystals dangled, catching beams of light and sparkling radiantly.

Accents of silver, turquoise, and deep blue littered the venue, which was the banquet room of one of the poshest hotels in LA. The decor had turned out beautifully, especially the ice sculptures and the crystal snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. Unfortunately the people who attended expected and desired a lavish affair. So, in order to get them to open their checkbooks I had to spend a bit of money to make sure I exceeded their expectations.

It was something I’d learned in my first year of hosting this fundraiser.

Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I let the curtain fall and turned around to find Ella smiling at me. She looked stunning. Her makeup was simple, wih dark liner and plum lips. It went well with her elegant black velvet gown. Rhinestones hugged her throat and winked in her ears.

“How’s it looking out there?” Ella asked.

I tried to look and sound as confident as possible. “It looks good. A lot of people are already here, and the bar looked busy.”

“Good. The more liquored up they get, the more generous they’ll be.”

“I was thinking the same thing. That’s why I asked the bartenders to pour doubles unless otherwise instructed.”

“Smart,” Ella said, tapping the side of her head with her index finger. “How are you feeling about your speech? Did you want to run through it one more time?”

I rubbed my hands together. I might have been mistaken, but I could have sworn it was getting louder on the other side of the curtain by the second as more people arrived. “Umm. Sure. Yes. Let’s do that.”

Ella took my hand and led me across the stage. Other people, mostly volunteers in black suits, were hurrying back and forth, making sure everything was in order. I followed my friend down a set of stairs and out into a hallway, where we took a right turn into the first room, where sofas and chairs were set up. There was a mini fridge stocked full of snacks and drinks for volunteers and coordinators. I helped myself to a bottle of water before pulling my cue cards out of my little silver clutch. I cleared my throat before starting to speak and Ella took a seat on one of the sofas.

She was a good audience. Always had been.

When I finished Ella stood up. “I think that was your best run through yet. Seriously, it’s great, Laura. Really great.”

“I’m not missing anything important?”

“Important? Like what? You thank everyone you had to thank, you discuss what their donations will contribute to, and you speak about your five year plan for a children’s home. There’s nothing missing.”

“I feel like there is.”

Ella frowned and tapped her chin with her forefinger. “Well, since it’s the first of December you could always wish them all a Merry Christmas at the end?”

A light bulb went off. “Yes! That’s exactly what it is. Thank you Ella.”

Ella gave me a nonchalant shrug. “Oh you know, just me doing me, girl.”

“Do we have time to run through it one more time?”

Ella fell back into her seat, crossed one leg over the other, and adjusted the cap sleeves of her velvet dress. “You have the floor.”

I went through my speech one final time. When I ended with ‘To express my sincerest gratitude for all of your generosity this year, I would like to take this moment to wish you all a Merry Christmas.’ Ella leaned back and clapped her hands together.

“I love it,” she said. “It’s the perfect note to end on.”

“Excellent.”

We were discussing how well the venue had turned out when there was a knock on the door. We both turned to see a young man in a black suit enter the room. His blond hair was slicked back, showing off his rather large but quite endearing ears. He was a little out of breath when he handed me a black box with an envelope slit on the top. “The doors are closed, Ms. Wessex. These are all the checks written by the attendees.”

“Was there a tally taken?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No ma’am. We didn’t think you’d want your guests to see us scribbling down the total of their donations on the side.”

“Good call. Thank you for bringing this to me.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome.”

He slipped away and I turned to Ella. We both looked down at the box in my hands and then back up at each other.

“How long before I have to speak?” I asked.

Ella glanced at the wall on the clock. “Ten minutes.”

“Do you think we can total it all that quickly?”

Ella hesitated, but only for a second. Then she lifted the lid off the box and we set it down on one of the tables in the room. She took half the checks out of the box and so did I. We both sat down and started counting.

When I finished my mind was reeling. “My stack totals just shy of three million.”

“Three point five on my end,” Ella beamed.

“Holy fuck,” I said. Then I clamped my hands over my mouth. My eyes widened. A lump formed in my throat. “Six. Million. Dollars.”

Ella squealed. I leapt from my chair and threw my arms around her and we jumped up and down in place out of sheer excitement. Tears tickled from the corners of my eyes and threatened to escape.

Ella held me at arm’s length by my shoulders. “This is insane!”

“I-I know.”

“Like, insane!”

“I know!”

“Don’t cry. You’ll mess up your makeup if you cry and it took me forever to get your eyeliner like that,” she warned.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I tried to get my tears under control. “I don’t know if I can stop myself.”

“Well, please do.”

I closed my eyes and took a long, deep, steadying breath. I waited until the lump in my throat reduced in size, then opened my eyes again. I nodded at Ella. “Alright. I’m okay.”

Ella let go of my shoulders and went about collecting the checks into a neat pile. There was a rubber band at the bottom of the box that I’d put there earlier to contain all the loose checks. She reached for it and paused. Then she pressed her hand to the side of the box, where a folded check had gotten caught. She kept it folded but lifted it up to me. “There’s another one.”

“Open it.”

Ella peeled one of the corners apart from the other. She opened the check like a book. At first, she didn’t react. Her eyes slid across the piece of paper, and then she sucked in a sharp breath, let out a startled laugh, and looked up at me. “Laura—”

“What is it?” I asked, snatching it out of her hands.

I peered down at the check. The number I found myself reading didn’t compute in my brain. Too many zeroes. It didn’t make sense. Was that even a number?

Ella laughed again. “That’s ten million dollars, Laura.”

“Holy fuck,” I said again—and I wasn’t normally one to curse.

“Yeah. Holy fucking fuck.”

“This has to be a mistake,” I said, looking harder at the check. Was the decimal in the wrong place? “It has to be. Nobody just gives ten—” I couldn’t even say the word. “Nobody donates this sort of money,” I said, waving the check around.

“Well, apparently somebody did.”

“But—”

“No buts, remember?”

I pressed my hand to my forehead. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Sit down,” Ella said, taking me by the elbow and guiding me over to a chair. I sat down and she sat across from me. We were both breathing heavily, despite having done nothing that required exertion. We lifted our gazes and stared at each other for a minute. Ella spoke first. “I think you need to change the end of your speech again.”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“What company is on the check?” Ella asked, as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

I looked back down at the paper in my hands. “Nova Corp.”

“Sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”

“Right? Well, we can figure that out later. I need to add a big thank you to this person. Whoever they are.”

Ella grinned. “Maybe it’s your Romeo.”

“Shut up.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Well. You have four minutes before you go on stage. That gives you just enough time to tweak your speech while I fix your makeup.”

“Is it ruined?”

She shook her head. “No. But you have some smudging happening, and I can fix that right up for you. We want you to put your best foot forward out there. And face.”

“My best face?” I laughed.

She nodded. “Yeah. You know. Just in case this big time donor happens to be a really good looking guy on the prowl for a pretty girl with a heart of gold. Crazier things have happened.”

“Well, if he’s a guy in that crowd, chances are he’s done some shitty things to get this kind of money.”

“Perhaps. Now it’s our job to make sure it gets used to do good things.”

The emcee cleared his throat into the microphone upstage. In the back room his voice sounded muffled and tinny, but I could make out the words he said. “Ladies and gentlemen. If you would please take your seats. The evening is about to begin.”

“That’s my one minute mark,” I said.

Ella took both of my hands and squeezed tightly. “You’re going to knock it out of the park—just like you always do. And when your speech is done you’ll meet me backstage and I’ll be waiting for you with that shot. Sound good?”

I grinned. “Sounds great.”

Chapter 7

Max

The Vex Hotel was decked out to the nines for this fundraiser soiree direct from the hubs of hell.

Snowflakes hung from the ceiling in clusters of odd numbers—a decorating essential my mother had drilled into Catherine’s skull when we were growing up. If you ever had something in groups it had to be an uneven number, whether it was the number of pictures on the wall, flowers in a vase, or candles on the fireplace mantle.

Odd numbers only.

Whoever had made all the decisions in regards to decor for this event would have gotten along swimmingly with my mother.

The giant branches protruding from the centerpieces were impressive, sure, but incredibly inconvenient. If you had a seat at the back of the room you couldn’t see the stage over the white branches.

I, of course, had a pretty good seat near the front of the stage. I had made a pass of the room already to find my seat and left my jacket draped over the back of my chair. Upon wandering about, a waiter found me and offered me a winter cocktail—the evening’s special, apparently. It was served in a champagne flute and hosted a sprig of pine and free floating cranberries, earning an eye roll that I should have endeavored to keep internal and thus hidden from view. But, I didn’t. I suspected the actual substance of the drink—the booze—was champagne, mixed with Sprite, and a bit of ginger.

I especially hated that it was delicious, unable to recall a time I’d wanted to hate a drink more.

Sipping it, I walked around and made nice with familiar faces in the room. I recognized a couple who had purchased my software last year at a Software as a Service (SAAS) conference. They ran a pretty big company that moved antiques all over the globe and they needed software that would protect themselves as well as their very wealthy clients. I led the pitch and within forty-five minutes of meeting them had obtained their signatures and worked out a deal.

It was easy when you had the best programs in the country.

Mr. and Mrs. Galloway saw me coming. Mr. Galloway, or Steven, as he insisted I call him, greeted me with an open arm and a polite raise of his champagne flute. “Max Miller. I didn’t expect to see a man of your caliber at an event like this. What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

I shook his hand. “Mr. Galloway, the pleasure is all mine. Mrs. Galloway, hello.”

“Please. Call me Steven.”

“And Maureen,” his wife said, holding out her hand for a dainty shake. Rubies and emeralds weighed her fingers down, and a very expensive gold diamond bracelet glittered on her thin wrist.

“How did you hear of this event?” Mr. Galloway inquired, with a sophisticated tilt of his head. The collar of his pristine white shirt burrowed into his throat, evidence of the extra thirty pounds he carried.

“My assistant told me about it, actually. She said it was a good cause and worth my time. So, here I am.”

“Your assistant?” Mrs. Galloway asked, tipping her head in a similar fashion to that of her husband.

I adjusted the collar of my shirt and wished I could just undo the top button. “Yes. She’s quite savvy when it comes to things like this. I typically have my head buried in the sand as you well know.”

“A busy man must,” Mr. Galloway said.

“I knew you’d understand, sir.”

“Please, call me Steven.”

It was a fun little game to see how many times he would ask me to call him by his first name before he threw in the towel. “Sorry, sir,” I said. “So, when does this thing get underway? And when do they bring out the real drinks?”

Mr. Galloway chuckled as his wife waved at another couple passing us by. “Shortly, Max. Don’t worry. Once the speaker opens the floor and says her piece, the alcohol begins to flow. I’ll be curious to see how much she managed to scrape together this year.”

“How much did they earn last year?” I asked.

“Just shy of five million,” Mr. Galloway said.

I felt my eyebrows creep up my forehead and did my best to rearrange my expression. I cleared my throat. “Well, I can say with a fair amount of confidence that she should expect to make more than that this year.”

“Fairly confident, you say?” Mr. Galloway winked.

I chuckled and finished off my disappointingly delicious cocktail. A waiter passed with an empty tray and I sat the empty glass on top. He never slowed down or even broke his stride. “Well, I’ve got a lot more hands to shake, so I should go. I’m sure I’ll bump into you later on. Don’t forget to take this beautiful wife of yours out onto the dance floor, Mr. Galloway. A woman only wears a dress like that for dancing.”

Mrs. Galloway blushed and waved me off, while Mr. Galloway, in his typical fashion, mumbled, “Steven,” under his breath as I walked away.

It quickly became evident that most people in the room knew who I was—especially the women. I did my best to avoid making eye contact as various women, arms draped over their husband’s, made eyes at me.

Despite what most people might think, being a man with a lot of money comes with downfalls. Like the wives of other men swooning over you any time you got within a twenty foot radius.

I was leaning against the bar waiting for my rum and coke, when a woman in a sleek red dress sauntered over, ran her hand up the back of my arm and nudged my hip with her own. “Max Miller. Fancy running into you here. It’s been awhile.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I studied her. Long curly brown hair. Green eyes. The fullest lips I’d ever seen, and cleavage I could get lost in. “Emily,” I smiled.

“So, you do remember me?”

“Of course I remember you.”

She arched a perfectly tweezed brown eyebrow and pouted her lips. “But you never called.”

No. No I did not.

Emily reached out with red painted fingernails to pinch the sleeve of my white shirt. She rolled it between her fingers as she ran her tongue along her bottom lip. “Are you here alone this evening, Max?”

I caved and popped the highest button on my collar, and then worked my tie a little bit loose. I didn’t give a damn what any of these people thought of me. They all knew who I was. What I’d done for security. Hell, they all probably wished they had a guy like me in their back pocket. “I am,” I told her.

“Fancy that,” Emily cooed.

“That is how I’ll be leaving, too.”

Emily blinked. I nearly laughed. “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t worry, Em. I won’t tell anyone you made a pass at me.”

She stammered. “I wasn’t—I wouldn’t—I think you misunderstood.”

The bartender slid my drink over. Quickly, I plucked the straw out and tossed it in the trash can near my feet. Then I took a greedy drink and held Emily’s gaze as I did. I smacked my lips when I was done. “It was good to see you again. Beautiful dress, by the way.”

Leaving her no time to pick up her jaw from the floor, I walked off into the crowd. I had just glanced toward the stage when someone cleared their throat into the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen. If you would please take your seats. The evening is about to begin.” The loud chatter all around me died down as people split apart to make their way to their seats. I sifted through the crowd, smiling at people who waved at me, and worked my way back to my table.

I lowered myself into my seat as the other guests at the table took up their spots around me. I knew who most of them were, but didn’t know them personally. The man sitting beside me was in the film industry, I knew that much. He owned a lot of private properties that were used as sets in some of the big budget films that had been filmed in LA over the last decade. He was raking in serious dough and had an income that might rival mine.

Security and entertainment are the biggest opportunities for wealth, after all. Especially in this city.

He glanced over his shoulder at me and nodded at my name embossed in silver on a white place card. “Miller?”

I picked up the card and wiggled it. “You got me, Mr.—”

“Beveridge.”

I extended my hand and we shook. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Beveridge. The movie industry, right?”

He nodded. Mr. Beveridge was a bald man, not from age but by choice. His dark brown beard was thick and he had a perfectly curled moustache. His suit was navy blue and he wore mismatching patterns in his socks, pocket square, and tie. A man like him could get away with such decisions. “I hear you’re in the security business, Mr. Miller.”

“Yes. Software security, mostly. I design programs to protect personal information.”

“And share it with certain organizations?”

I tapped the side of my nose. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His serious expression stretched into a grin. “What brings you here this evening? I wouldn’t expect a man with your qualifications to be interested in this sort of thing?”

“And by this sort of thing do you mean charity?” I asked.

He paused, pursed his lips, and then frowned. “When you say it that way it sounds like a terrible thing to say to a stranger.”

I chuckled. “I’m not offended.”

“Good. So, what does bring you here, then?”

I liked him. He was forward. To the point. I’d bet money he rubbed people the wrong way in Hollywood every damn day. “Well, my assistant told me I should come, so here I am. She did the research. Said it was a good cause and, since I have the funds to help out, why not, right?”

Mr. Beveridge shrugged. “I suppose that’s as good a reason as any.”

I sipped my rum and coke. “And what about you? Why are you here?”

He crossed his arms and shot me a devious grin. “For the wives.”

Of course. I should have seen that coming a mile away. It explained the pocket square, the tie, the moustache, and, well, pretty much everything.

Mr. Beveridge stroked his beard. “You disapprove?”

I shook my head. “No.”

He tapped his glass to the side of mine before taking a sip of his cranberry and pine cider. “Happy hunting then.”

I didn’t drink from my glass. There was no way I was toasting to that. It occurred to me that just for shits and giggles I should tell him to go hit on Emily. Just then a hush fell over the crowd and all eyes were turned to the stage.

Twisting in my chair, I draped my arm over the back of it and crossed one leg over the other as I peered up at the stage. Standing in front of the silver curtain was a beautiful young woman.

She had cascading blonde curls that reached almost to the middle of her back, now in a sophisticated by gentle bun at the nape of her neck. If I was closer I’d be able to see that her eyes were brown and somehow wildly bright, and framed with thick black lashes. I’d also be able to see that her nose and cheeks were dusted in freckles. That she had a scar to the right of her bottom lip from when she fell into a glass coffee table at a friend’s house when she was eight. That she had a birthmark in the shape of a raindrop on her right hip.

“Shit,” I breathed.

“She’s a stunner, hey?” Mr. Beveridge said beside me, leaning back in his chair. “Truth be told, she’s part of the reason I come to this thing, too.”

“Laura Wessex,” I said, shaking my head.

“You know her?”

“Better than she knows herself,” I said.

Beveridge straightened in his chair and gave me a cool look before turning his attention back to Laura as she began to speak. Every word hit me right in the gut. It had been a long time since I had heard her voice. A long, long time.

Since college.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. I am pleased to welcome you back to the fifth annual fundraiser for Laura’s Haven. Your attendance is greatly appreciated and I am grateful for your continued support, and your determination to make this foundation a success. It is my pleasure to welcome our new donors this year, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzhubertussen, Mrs. Welling, Mr. Carrowall, and—last but not least—the person behind the generous donation from Nova Corp.”

Chapter 8

Laura

I couldn’t see all the faces looking up at me as I finished up my speech. The bright lights illuminating me on stage made it impossible to see anything out there in the crowd. It was probably better that way. If I could see all the people watching me, I would most definitely get stage fright.

I was thankful to be wrapping it up.

“To express my sincerest gratitude for all of your generosity this year, I would like to take this moment to simply say, Merry Christmas,” I finished, lifting my eyes and giving the room my best smile.

They all clapped. It was a ‘we’re all wearing very expensive rings’ sort of clap, in that the sound was softer than the applause at a music concert for example, but I didn’t mind.

I reached for the microphone and cleared my throat as the people down below started talking among themselves. “I apologize, but I would like to steal one more moment of your time to thank someone very generous tonight.” The room gave me their attention. Voices faded into whispers which gave way to silence, save for the occasional rustle of someone’s gown or the clink of a glass hitting the edge of a plate. I stood a little taller and lifted my chin. “I would never discuss donation details in this setting, of course, but I will say that this person, on behalf of their company, made the single largest donation our foundation has ever received. So, without further ado, I’d like to invite whoever donated the check from the Nova Corp to please join me on stage so that we can thank them properly.”

The audible squeak of chair legs on the hardwood floors echoed throughout the room as a man close to the front of the room stood up. The lights made it impossible for me to make out his face. He was wearing part of his suit—it looked like he’d taken off the jacket. He moved with careless ease, slipping between the tables and making his way to the stairs on the side of the stage. I could see that he was young and trim before he moved into shadow and out of my sight to ascend the stairs along the side of the stage. I could hear his shoes striking each step.

I waited with a pleasant smile plastered on my lips.

And waited.

Until he stepped into the light with me. Then my mind came to a grinding halt.

Max fucking Miller.

The look he gave me was pure menace. His lips—lips that I could remember kissing like it was yesterday—were curled in a devious smile as he walked toward me with ease. Being in front of a crowd didn’t seem to ruffle his feathers in the slightest. Then again, I couldn’t remember anything ruffling his feathers. Not even my father pulling him into the study to have a talk about his intentions. I was speechless, at least I hoped I was, since the entire room would have heard anything I said since I was still hovering over the microphone.

Max, all long legs, broad shoulders, dark stubble covered jaw and eyes as green as spring grass was right there on stage with me. He chuckled as he slid his hands into the pockets of his pants. Stopping about two feet from me, he rocked back on his heels. “You gonna give me the microphone, Miss?”

Miss?

“Uh—”

Max stepped toward me. I retreated four paces to the side and he assumed the position behind the microphone. Those green eyes of his lingered on me for a moment longer before he turned and squinted into the bright house lights. Murmurs spread down below. I tried to pretend I didn’t know what they were saying. I tried to pretend that my heart wasn’t about to thump its way straight out of my ribcage.

The voices belonged to the women in the room. Each and every one of them whispered of how good looking he was. How mysterious he was. How wealthy he was.

Damn him.

Max feathered his fingers on the microphone and smiled at the crowd. The whispers spread like wildfire. “Well, I didn’t come here this evening prepared to make a speech. And most of you know I’m not the best with words. Programs and computers? Sure. People? Not so much.”

The crowd rippled with laughter and I clenched my fists at my sides.

“I suppose the thing to say in a position like this is a simple, you’re welcome,” Max said, looking to me with an innocent expression.

The crowd was already cheering.

I gave him a terse smile and tried to speak—tried to say anything. Even a simple phrase about helping a lot of children would have done the trick. But I just stood there like a deer in the headlights, with my lips parted and my fists clenched.

He chuckled into the microphone and the sound vibrated right through me and brought me back to those days at the college where I’d sneak down the hall to his dorm room. I could feel the heat start below my belly. The quiet storm of need that I’d never been able to calm when he was in the room with me.

“It’s alright, Miss Wessex. I’m used to this reaction from women all the time,” he said, gesturing at me.

Jackass.

The crowd laughed again. This time without reservation. My cheeks burned as Max gave me an informal little bow. “This is an impressive cause and I am very happy to have been able to help. You can count on my attendance next year, and an equal donation. Thank you for the evening. I have enjoyed myself and those I’ve had the chance to speak with tonight seem to have enjoyed themselves as well.”

So now he was kissing my ass to make up for making me look like an idiot in front of all these people. The crowd was talking again, and I knew it was best to let them go on with their evening rather than try to say anything else, since I would only humiliate myself further.

Max stepped back from the microphone. “Laura Wessex,” he clicked his tongue. “How do you look exactly the same as you did ten years ago?”

“Exercise. And lots of water. And kale.”

He ran his fingers through his thick black hair. My heart puttered like a dying car engine in my chest and I resisted clutching my hands to my breast like a damsel from the eighteen hundreds. He smiled. “It’s good to see you, Laura.”

I lifted my nose. “Can’t say the same about you.”

Then I turned, tugged the silver curtain open, and slipped backstage. Ella was standing there with two shot glasses in her hands. Her eyes were as wide as her mouth as she gaped at me. “Is that—is that Max Miller out there?”

I nodded, plucked one of the tequila shots out of her hand, and threw it down the hatch. She hurried to follow suit as I grimaced and said, “Literally the polar opposite of Romeo in each and every way.”

“I’m going to get us more shots,” Ella said, as her eyes moved past my shoulder to look behind me.

I didn’t have to turn to know that Max had followed me behind the curtain. Ella hurried away, presumably back to the bar, and I marched ahead, scurrying down the stairs and trying to escape to the same room I’d rehearsed my speech in. Max followed me all the way.

“Can’t we talk for a moment, at least?” He asked the question when he stepped through the doorway behind me.

I rounded on him. “No. No, we cannot talk for a moment. You just made me look like a fool up there!”

“I did not.”

“You did too! What was that you said? Something about being used to getting this reaction from women. I’m not one of your lap girlfriends, Max.”

“What the hell is a lap girlfriend?”

I threw my arms up in exasperation. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You said it,” he said, pulling out a chair from one of the tables and sinking down into it. He peered up at me with cool curiosity. The way his hair was hanging slightly over his brow coupled with the loose collar of his shirt and the way he tugged at his tie had me coming undone. “What’s a lap girlfriend? Come on, I’m dying to know.”

“A girlfriend that is more like having a small dog. You know, like a lap dog.”

He snorted. “That sounds like way too much work. I don’t do girlfriends.”

I crossed my arms causing the little jewels on my gown to dig into my bare skin. “That’s funny. The last time we saw each other you had three girlfriends at once.”

He shrugged and leaned back in the chair. “Ten years changes a guy.”

“Nobody can change that much, Max. I’m not buying it.”

“I’m not trying to get you to buy anything, Laura. I just wanted to catch up. You’re the one who’s being defensive. Look, if I’d known ahead of time this was your fundraiser, I never would have come, okay?”

“Oh, because you wouldn’t want to donate to my cause?”

He frowned. “Now you’re putting words in my mouth.”

“Fine. Why wouldn’t you have come?”

“I’m not stupid, Laura. You don’t want me here. Had I known, I would have avoided it and we both could have carried on blissfully, neither of us having to endure this, awkward reunion scene,” he said, gesturing back and forth between us.

I uncrossed my arms, planted a hand on my hip, and glared at him. “You’re an asshole.”

“Never said I wasn’t.” He clasped his hands behind his head and winked at me. He actually winked at me.

And my skin crawled—but not in the uncomfortable, seedy way. It crawled with lust. Max Miller was a sight for sore eyes, and just like in college, his cool attitude and devilish charm were getting to me. He’d been bad news for me then and he was bad news now.

There was no doubt about that.

Chapter 9

Max

Laura Wessex.

She was the only girl I’d ever been with who’d broken up with me rather than the other way around. We’d met when we were both studying at the University of California. She was immersed in the world of philanthropy, which had clearly been the right choice for her since here she was hosting this fundraiser and working with homeless kids. I had been studying criminology.

At the time I’d been sure I was going to be a cop, and then a detective.

She was in her first year and only nineteen when we bumped into each other in the dorm room hallway. She was wearing a red dress with little white flowers all over it, and I knew the first time I saw her that I needed to know her. I needed to know everything about her.

Having her standing in front of me ten years later in a sapphire blue sparkling evening gown was a bit of a shock. But a shock of the very best kind.

Her eyes were so dark they nearly looked black and were lined with black wings on her upper lids, which were also swept with sparkling silver and charcoal. Her lips were a deep shade of red, almost a purple color, and her hair was drawn up in a soft, loose bun at the nape of her neck.

I’d never seen a more beautiful woman in my life—despite her anger.

She had her hands on her hips and was glaring at me like she wanted to set me on fire right here in my chair.

I tugged the collar of my shirt. “Tough crowd.”

“Oh shut up, Max.”

“I didn’t intend to ruin your evening. Like I said, I didn’t even know it was your evening.”

“Well it is.”

“I can see that now.”

Laura looked up at the ceiling and I took advantage of the moment and studied the long line of her neck. She used to love it when I’d kiss and nibble my way up, from her collarbone to her jaw and up to her ear. She’d melt in my arms, and sigh the softest sweetest little sounds.

“What are you doing?” Narrowing her eyes at me, she spoke crossly.

Shit. She’d caught me staring. “Nothing.”

“Don’t look at me like that, Max. I mean it. You and I? Not happening. Go back out to the banquet room and find a girl with low standards and an even lower neckline.”

“I could.”

“Please do.”

“I’d like to sit and have a drink with you first.”

Her eyebrows crawled up her forehead. “No thank you.”

“Please?”

She shook her head. “No, Max. Not interested.”

I stood up and moved around the room. She watched me undo the buttons on the cuffs of my white shirt, and then roll them up to my elbows. “Come on Laura. Is that how you’re going to treat the guy who just gave you ten million dollars?”

She blinked. Her eyes darted from my forearms to my eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. One drink. Just one. Then we can go our separate ways.”

Laura looked around the room, like she was searching for something she could use to get out of having to sit down and spend time with me. But, when her eyes only fell upon empty chairs, a mini fridge, and a sink full of coffee mugs, she let out a deep sigh and her shoulders slumped. “Alright. Fine. One drink. But only one.” She held up the index finger on her right hand to drive the point home. “One.”

“One is all I asked for.”

“Let’s get this over with,” she said, before pushing impatiently past me, her shoulder clipping mine.

I turned on the spot and followed her out of the break room. We bumped into the young woman who had been backstage when I came through the curtain. She looked nervously from me to Laura, and then held out a shot glass full of pale gold liquid. The smell suggested it was tequila.

Laura accepted the shot from her friend, threw it back like it was water, and kept on marching straight ahead down the hall. I shared a glance with her friend as I passed, and I could feel her eyes on my back as I fell into step behind Laura.

She took me down a couple hallways before we emerged into the main banquet room through one of the emergency exit doors. The chit chat was louder now than it had been before. It was like everyone had settled into their social cliques and had found their happy places. I was sure the unlimited supply of liquor was helping with that, too.

Laura didn’t stop for anything until she got to the bar. She raised her hand and the bartender immediately took her order. I called to him for a rum and coke. While he mixed our drinks, Laura put her back to the bar and looked around the room. I couldn’t read her neutral expression, but I thought I saw a glimmer of pride in her dark eyes.

“This is an impressive event you’ve put on,” I said. “Something like this would take a lot of planning. And when you have guests as wealthy as these—there are risks.”

“Oh, believe me. I know. Some of these people are terribly demanding.”

“I’d love to know which ones.”

She gave me a sidelong look and the corner of her mouth twitched. “Of course you would, Max. But I’m not going to be the girl who is all over the magazines for trash talking donors at her own event.”

“Fair point.”

The bartender handed us our drinks. Laura sipped hers—the drink special in the champagne flute, of course—and I took her to my table. Mr. Beveridge’s spot was empty, so she pulled out his chair and sat down. She looked everywhere but at me. Her endless scrutiny of the room and her guests was admirable. She wanted to guarantee that each of these people would come back next year and happily bring their money, and I could tell by her calculated gaze that she was looking for areas of improvement.

“May I make a suggestion for next year?” I said.

She glanced at me and looked me in the eye. Finally, she replied. “What?”

“After your speech you should let people know you are still accepting donations. Have a table set up. I was thinking over there, like a couple feet from the bar.”

“But it gets so crowded there.”

“Indeed. And, when people are waiting for their drinks to be made, they might just get hit with a second wave of generosity or a desire to impress someone nearby and give your foundation more money.”

She lifted her champagne flute to her reddish plum lips and took a sip. It was hard not to stare at her full bottom lip pressed to the glass, or the bead of condensation that fell from the glass to her chest, where it winked like a siren at me, beckoning me to look down at her cleavage. When she put the glass down she said, “That idea is not half bad.”

“I know. That’s why I offered it.”

“Any other brilliant suggestions?”

I shrugged. “If one hits me you’ll be the first to know.”

She smiled. Actually smiled. I liked the way her dimples appeared. I hadn’t forgotten she had them and I’d been hoping to see them again since I followed her backstage.

“You must hate this,” Laura said, suddenly.

I arched an eyebrow.

She waved an arm around the room. “This. The snowflakes, the expensive gowns, the Christmas music, the drink,” she lifted up her glass again. “Do you still hate the holidays as much as you used to?”

“Yes,” I said. I didn’t tell her I hated them even more now. That would mean I’d have to tell her about my mom.

She nodded and ran a finger along the rim of her glass. “I figured as much. You never were a fan of the whole thing. What did you used to call it?”

“The debt holiday.”

“Yes,” she said, smiling again. “I remember now.”

I leaned back in my chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Enough about me. I want to talk about you. About all of this. When did you start your foundation?”

“Not long after college. It’s only been in the last five years that we’ve gained some real traction. Once I pulled this event off for the first time, everything changed. I have real money behind me to help these kids. And, if all goes well, I’ll be opening a children’s home five years from now.”

“I heard. That’s really admirable, Laura.”

“Thank you. But I don’t do it for the credit. Someone needs to give these kids a chance and I have the tools to do that.”

“You’ve always looked out for the underdog, so none of this surprises me.”

She paused and looked down at her hands on the table. “Thank you.”

I was glad she heard the compliment in my words. I drained the remnants of my rum and coke before asking, “So, are any of these kids you work with over the age of sixteen?”

“Plenty of them. Why?”

“I have an idea.”

“Yes?”

I drummed my fingers on the table and uncrossed my legs, stretching them out in front of me. How I wished I could have taken my tie off and opened more buttons on my shirt. I wasn’t made for this confining sort of attire. “I have five open positions at my company right now. They’re held for interns, but we haven’t started the process of bringing anyone on board yet. How would you feel about picking five kids to come work for me? I’d pay them, of course. Entry level salary.”

Laura’s wide eyed expression was more than a little satisfying. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to string her words together.

I chuckled. “They’d have some experience on their resume afterward. And, possibly, have the opportunity to stay within my company and move up. At the very least they’ll have my reference.”

“At the least?” she asked, incredulously, leaning forward now. “A reference from someone like you is a huge advantage.”

I shrugged. I knew that.

“Max. Thank you. This is such a good idea.”

“I think so, too,” I said, swirling the ice cubes around in my glass.

Everyone benefited from this situation. Laura’s kids got some relevant work experiences and would have a chance to earn some money. Laura would be thrilled to see them learn and grow and gain access to tools that would get their foot in the door of the business and tech industry. And I would win, too.

I’d have an easy way to stay in touch with the beautiful girl in the sapphire gown.

Chapter 10

Laura

I studied Max’s profile as he looked around the room. His jaw was as sharp and square as I remembered. It was covered in black stubble that disappeared down his neck and into the collar of his shirt. He was probably the scruffiest looking man here, and it worked well for him.

Not that I would ever let him know I was thinking that.

The top two buttons of his white shirt were open and his black tie was a little loose. The way he had one arm draped over the back of his chair, his hand dangling and showing off his sleek Rolex was intoxicating. His body language gave off a sensual devil-may-care vibe, and I loathed myself for falling for it.

My body was tense. Every muscle strained as my insides ached for him to touch me. To put his hand on my knee, my shoulder, my jaw. I wanted to know if his touch was still the same as it used to. Or, perhaps, I wanted to know if he could still make me feel the way he used to.

Max Miller had ruined all other men for me, and he had no idea.

He turned his attention back to me. His green eyes flicked to my empty glass. “I know you said only one drink, but can I interest you in a second? You can sit. I’ll go to the bar.”

I should say no. I should say unequivocally no. But I found myself nodding.

Max smiled, picked up our glasses, and stood. I watched his back as he walked away. Even his walk was hot. His strides were long and confident, and the way he moved between people reminded me of the physical shape he was in. He was very self-aware and always had been.

I swept a couple of loose strands of hair off my forehead and peered up at the branches of the centerpiece above my head. The crystals winked at me as someone pulled out a chair on my other side.

I smiled as a bald man with an impressive moustache and beard leaned forward on the table. “Good evening, Miss Wessex.”

“Mr. Beveridge,” I smiled, twisting around to face him more directly. “How are you doing? I hope you’re having a nice time.”

“It is always a nice time at your event, my dear. The drinks are stiff, the food exquisite, and the women even more so.”

I swallowed my inward groan.

“You know,” he said, “you have the face and body for success in my industry if you were ever interested in trying something new.”

“Oh, well that is very kind of you, Mr. Beveridge, but my calling is definitely not on the movie screen.”

“I understand,” he said, nodding. “You are doing much more for the city here, I suppose. I respect that. You are a good woman, Miss Wessex.”

“Please. Call me Laura.”

“Laura,” he smiled, and lifted his wine glass. I didn’t have a drink so I just smiled back. He sipped his wine, smacked his lips, and set the glass back down atop the white table cloth. “I see you were speaking with Max Miller.”

“Yes.”

“He’s a good man to have in your corner. At least that’s the rumor this evening. I must have heard his name a dozen times on my way back from the bar.”

“We’ve known each other since college, actually,” I said, hoping that providing some concrete answers would get him to lay off. I knew this tactic. It was the long work around before he got to his point.

“Did you now?”

“Yes. We were good friends.”

Mr. Beveridge chuckled. “I suspect a man like him is ill equipped to just be friends with a woman like you.”

I was about to retort when his eyes slipped past me, and someone took a seat on my other side. Another champagne Christmas cocktail was placed in front of me and I smiled over at Max, who was watching Mr. Beveridge. “How’s your night going?” he asked.

Mr. Beveridge smiled at me. “Better now that I’ve had a chance to speak with our lovely host. But, I must move along. There are people who want to talk about filming at one of my properties. You two kids pace yourselves. The night is young.”

After he left I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Why are the rich always so weird?”

Max laughed. It was a hearty, deep, altogether glorious sound. “Beats me. I’ve been wondering the same thing for a long time. I’ve also come to the conclusion that I must be as eccentric in my own way. But I can’t quite seem to figure out what my thing is.”

“Your thing?”

“You know. That thing that makes me weird. Any ideas?”

Things that could make him weird. By all standards Max Miller was far from weird. He was a player, sure, but that came with the good looks and brooding personality. He was a hard worker, a dreamer, and a man with values he would never compromise. I’d admired a lot of those things about him years ago when we were dating. He made me feel special and safe, and that was all I wanted in a relationship.

But, when our paths started going in different directions, jealousy became an issue. He didn’t trust me, and I couldn’t be with someone who was suspicious of me when I was doing nothing wrong. Nothing besides making friends and networking, which was essential for someone committed to a cause like I was. Even then my goal had been to put a roof over the heads of children. To put food in their bellies. To give them a safe place to go where there was someone there to hug them if that was what they needed.

The Max sitting in front of me was a lot different from the young man I’d been with back then. He was still arrogant as hell, and still wore that ‘I’m too cool to be here’ demeanor I’d grown used to as a nineteen year old girl. ‘Grown used to’ being code for ‘fell for.’ I fell hard for his bad boy attitude.

But now he was composed and softer spoken. He took his time rather than answering impulsively. He considered, calculated, and analyzed his situation before reacting. The Max I’d known had been the sort of guy to jump into the fire head first and worry about the implications later.

Or have someone else worry about them for him.

No. This Max was different. He’d changed, somehow. But he was still the same guy. He had to be. Nobody could change that much. If he was somehow trying to convince me that he was a brand new man, I wasn’t buying it.

I shook my head, considering the question he’d asked me. What was it that made him weird? “I’m sure it’s just a combination of all your qualities, Max.”

“I’m not sure how to take that.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it,” I mused.

Max laughed again. “I’ve missed you, Laura Wessex.”

I think he regretted the admission as soon as he’d made it, because he blinked rapidly and then took a big sip of his drink. I did the same as heat crept up my cheeks, and I didn’t dare tell him that I’d missed him, too.

Because I hadn’t.

Not really.

He switched gears smoothly. “You can come into my office on Monday morning if you’d like. You know, to scope the place out and make sure it’s a good fit.”

“I would appreciate that.”

“It’s a date then.”

I gave him a flat look.

Max laughed and held his hands up. “A business date, Laura. An appointment, meeting, conference, consultation—call it whatever you like. Just turn that glare somewhere else.”

I smiled and tried to ignore the heat in my cheeks. I blamed it on the alcohol and then decidedly took another sip of my cocktail. “I’m looking forward to getting an insider peek at the work life of Max Miller. Famous billionaire, apparently. How did I not know that little detail?”

He shrugged. “Seems like you’ve been pretty busy. You know, what with helping the homeless children in the city and all.”

“A little busy,” I giggled. Ugh—immediately I hated that I giggled like a school girl. I shut myself up by taking another drink.

“I’m proud of you, Laura.”

“Thank you.”

“You had this vision even all those years ago, and you went for it. Hell, you blew it out of the water. Look at this place. Your influence has been huge. I can only imagine how many kids you’ve made a positive impact on.”

“We each have a responsibility to help others. And some of us have to work harder to make up for those who would rather bury their heads in the sand and live in denial of the desperate plight of those around them.”

Max cocked his head to the side. “Are you calling me out?”

“Hardly,” I said hurriedly. “Not at all. You gave my foundation ten million dollars tonight, Max. You have no idea how far that will go. Or how much that will accelerate my plans to build a children’s home. I’ll be able to reach so many more kids.”

“I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

Max leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. He took up space confidently, the way men do, and I matched him by assuming the same position. He smirked. “What went wrong between us all those years ago?”

“Seriously?” I asked.

He nodded. “Seriously. I never really understood.”

I sighed and considered his question. What was the best way to approach something like this? I never imagined there would be a chance that he misunderstood why I’d left him. “We were—two really different people, Max. I don’t think it ever could have worked between us. We had certain things going for us, sure—”

“Like the sex.”

I swallowed. “Yes. But interrupting me and saying things like that might have been one of the contributing factors as to why we weren’t compatible.”

“Ah,” he said, looking a little surprised.

“Things ended the way they should have. Look at us. We both carried on and made something of ourselves. It could have gone a lot worse.”

“Yeah. I could be earning a cop’s salary.”

I shook my head. “Ass.”

Max laughed, suddenly looking wistful. “We had fun though.”

I looked into those green eyes trimmed with hazel and gold. “Yeah. We did.”

He swallowed the rest of his rum and coke as I watched him. Then he looked around and suddenly seemed disinterested in the whole affair. The dresses. The dancing. The lure of more drinks at the bar. It had lost all appeal and now he was looking for the next thing—something he used to do when we were young, too. When he tired of something he moved on without blinking.

Impulsive.

He looked back at me as I neared the end of my drink. “You know, if you’d like to get away from all this for a little while, I’ve booked the penthouse suite here in the hotel for the night.”

Oh no.

“There’s a Jacuzzi,” he added.

I shook my head and put my drink down. How had I not seen this coming? He’d set the conversation up for this. “No, Max. Sorry. Not interested.”

“I was just—”

I held up a hand. “I don’t care. I still have a lot to do tonight. I’ll see you on Monday morning. Nine o’clock.” Picking up my drink and my clutch, I got to my feet and walked off—without looking back. Part of me hoped he was gaping after me, but chances were high he was already picking out another pretty girl in the crowd to invite upstairs.

A girl who would have no reservations and wouldn’t say no to billionaire extraordinaire Max Miller.

I needed to find Ella. Then she and I needed to find more shots.

Chapter 11

Max

Phone. My phone was ringing.

The sound cut right through to my brain and danced around, bouncing off the walls inside of my skull like a kid having a temper tantrum. I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes as I yawned and came to.

I was in the penthouse suite of The Vex—alone.

The sheets were silky soft and warm and I didn’t want to leave them. But my phone was in the pocket of my pants on the chair across the room.

Grumbling, I managed to untangle myself from the sheets and lurch across the room in time to answer the call. It was my sister. “Catherine?” I asked thickly as I held the phone up to my ear. “Hey. What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock.”

“Good grief. I feel like I got hit by a fucking train.”

“Where are you right now?”

I rubbed at my eyes, trying to hurry the process of adjusting to the stark bright sunlight filling up the room. Every piece of furniture was white, and so were the sheets, so the glare shone brilliantly in all directions. “I’m—I’m at The Vex.” I cleared my throat. Fuck. What time had I left the event last night? Two, three in the morning? Maybe later.

Memories of drinking with Beveridge at the bar started slamming into me.

Right. Beveridge. The man could handle his liquor like nobody I’d ever seen, and by the end of the evening he had us sipping whiskey on the rocks.

“Are you hung over, Max?”

“What? No. Well, maybe a little.”

Catherine sighed heavily into the phone. I knew that sound. It pricked my ears and I managed to open my eyes despite the glare. I straightened up and my awareness of my pounding head and aching back slipped away as concern filled me to the brim. “Wait. Why are you calling me? Have I forgotten something?”

“It’s Sunday,” she said. Her voice was flat and monotonous.

“Oh shit,” I breathed. “Cat, I’m so sorry. It slipped my mind and I forgot to set an alarm last night. I’m on my way. I’m just around the corner. Order without me.”

“We did.”

“Fuck. Sorry,” I said, and then hanging up the phone, I scrambled to get dressed.

In the bathroom I splashed my face with cold water and brushed my teeth with the toothbrush they supplied. I sloshed mouthwash around in my mouth while rolling deodorant on, and then I slid into my shoes, raked my wet fingers through my hair, plucked my jacket from where it was draped over the back of a chair, and hurried out into the hall to catch the elevator down to the first floor. From there I had to rush across the marble lobby to get to the elevators that would go down to the underground parking.

Passing the banquet hall on my way, I slowed to peer inside. All evidence of the fundraiser last night was gone and it looked like they were setting up for a business meeting of some sort. I carried on, got in the elevator, and made it down to my car in less than three minutes.

I glanced at the watch on my wrist. I’d slept with it on and it had left little imprints in my skin. It was quarter after ten. I was supposed to be at the diner at nine-thirty to meet Catherine and Hayden.

The three of us had been going to Bob’s All Day Diner since I was in college. Back when I was young and dumb and poor, I’d wake up after a Saturday night of partying on campus and drive to the house to pick up my sister and stepbrother. They’d pile in the back of my first car—a dark green and very fuel efficient Honda Civic—and we’d head off to gorge ourselves on the unlimited pancakes.

We upheld the tradition even after I dropped out. Though we fell off the bandwagon after my mother died, Catherine had managed to get us back on schedule within six months. I knew it was something they both looked forward to. We had trimmed it down to every second Sunday since we all had busy lives now, but sometimes even that felt like too much to me.

Like today, for example.

I would have much rather nursed my hangover privately, rather than meeting Catherine and Hayden who were no doubt going to harass me for looking so rough. I deserved it. I was going to show up in the same clothes I’d worn to the fundraiser—black pants, white button up, black dress shoes. My hair was a thick mess atop my head and I needed a shave. Or at least a bit of shaping—something to tame it all so people might take me seriously as a professional.

I arrived at the diner at ten thirty, exactly one hour late. I was lucky to score a parking spot, and I was already opening the gull wing doors as I shifted into park. I crossed the pavement quickly and hurried up the three steps to the red front door.

As soon as I walked in I was hit with the smell of buttermilk pancakes and Canadian maple syrup. My hangover was apparently not too terrible, because my stomach growled and my mouth started to water. I kept my coat on as I crossed the black and white tiled floor to the booth my siblings had obtained near a back window.

I slid in beside Catherine, who scooted over and passed her purse to Hayden to put on the open spot beside him.

“Morning,” I said, shrugging out of my jacket and hanging it on the hook behind my seat. “Sorry guys. I didn’t mean to be late. I was at a fundraiser event last night and the morning got away from me.”

“Did you spend the evening with a girl whose name you’ve already forgotten?” Catherine asked, as she tore the top off a creamer. She poured half of it into her coffee, stirred it up, and wrapped her hands around the white ceramic mug.

“No, I did not. Not that it’s any of your business, by the way.”

“Too drunk to get it up?” Hayden chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. “Did you guys order yet?”

“No, we waited for you,” Catherine said.

“I told you to order.”

She shrugged. “Well, we didn’t. We had no idea how long you’d be.”

Our waitress came to the table, a young mousy haired girl with the biggest brown eyes I’d ever seen. We gave her our orders, which she scribbled in a notebook she’d unhooked from her apron. Once she was done she collected our menus and promised to come back to fill my coffee mug.

She kept her promise, thank God. Within two minutes I had a piping hot cup of coffee in front of me. I took a sip, scalded my tongue, and slid it away from me in case I was tempted to do it again. I had a bad habit of burning my tongue more than once on the same drink.

“So, what was this fundraiser for?” Hayden asked, as we waited for our food.

“Homeless children and teens, actually.”

Hayden and Catherine shared a look. My stepbrother nodded at me. “That sounds like a different pace than your usual scene.”

“What’s my usual scene, Hayden?” I asked. It was almost a dare.

Hayden shrugged. “Don’t know. Not fundraisers for homeless kids.”

“Fair enough,” I grumbled sourly.

“Apparently you had a good time, based on the hangover and your look,” Catherine said, nodding at all of me. “Last night’s clothes, I presume?”

“Nothing gets past you, Catherine,” I said.

Catherine shifted in her seat and the red plastic creaked beneath her. “Don’t be an ass. I was just saying. You’re the one who showed up like this.”

I sighed. “It was a good time. Sort of. A bit of a blast from the past.

“What do you mean?” Hayden asked.

I looked up at him. “The fundraiser turned out to be for Laura’s foundation.”

Hayden’s eyes widened and Catherine leaned forward to peer up into my face. She let out a surprised laugh and exclaimed, “Laura Wessex?”

“The one and only,” I nodded, reaching for my coffee. I took a sip and burned myself again. “Fucking hell.”

Catherine took my coffee away and pulled it to her side of the table. “How was she? Did you talk to her or hide in the corner and get shitfaced? Oh man, what I would have given to be a fly on the wall in that room.”

“Likewise,” Hayden sniggered. He nudged my shin with the toe of his boot under the table. “Spill the beans, Max. How is she doing?”

“Good.”

“That’s it?” he asked. “That’s all you’re going to give us?”

“Well,” I said, leaning back in the booth and eyeing my coffee mug on the other side of the table. It was calling my name, beckoning to me with its richness. Catherine pushed it a couple more inches away and I forced myself to forget about it for now. “I didn’t know it was her foundation when I showed up at the fundraiser. Turns out I donated the biggest sum, so after her speech she called me up on stage not knowing it was from me, since it was in the company name.”

“Poor girl,” my sister breathed.

“Poor girl nothing. I gave her a lot of fucking money.”

Catherine rested her chin in her hand. “She still had to deal with the shock of seeing you for the first time in a decade in front of who knows how many people. Snobby rich people at that.”

I gave them both a rundown of going up on stage and saying my piece. Catherine scolded me for being an ass and intentionally trying to embarrass Laura in front of the crowd. I hadn’t been intentionally trying to do anything, but seeing that my sister had the same reaction to my ‘I’m used to getting this reaction from women’ comment, I realized it might not have come off the way I thought it might—which made me wonder what I’d intended in the first place. It had been a shitty thing to say.

I also told them about following her backstage and talking her into having a drink with me, and that we’d caught up a bit and shared how well things were going for each of us.

“So, how did you screw it up, then?” Catherine asked, when I told them Laura had been willing to indulge me in a second drink despite her insisting we would only have one.

I ran my fingers through my messy hair, thick with product from last night. I was eager to go home and shower. “I invited her up to my penthouse suite on the top floor of The Vex.”

“You sly dog,” Hayden chuckled.

“Dumbass,” Catherine said, shaking her head.

I frowned and looked back and forth between them. “What did I do wrong?”

“You were having a business conversation,” Catherine said, like that in itself was an answer.

When I stared blankly at her she threw her arms in the air. Then she slid my coffee over, deeming it cool enough to drink without burning myself. It was. I took a sip as she said, “Max, seriously. The two of you were talking about a business arrangement for the kids she works with. She probably let her guard down and let herself think that she didn’t have to worry about you being a horn dog. And then you went and spoiled it.”

Confused, I looked to Hayden for support. “Does she have a point?”

Hayden chewed the inside of his cheek. “I think it would be foolish to say she doesn’t.”

“Quite foolish,” Catherine said matter-of-factly. “Laura is a businesswoman now. Look at the event she pulled off last night—and you said it was her fifth year? She’s not a novice anymore. The minute you bring up sex, you’ve kicked the foundation out from under the business discussion you’ve just had, leaving her to assume it was all a setup for sex. I’d be pissed if I were her, too. You owe her an apology.”

“Max? Apologize?” Hayden sounded skeptical. “What would that even sound like?”

“Well, ‘I’m sorry for being a dick,’ would be a good start,” Catherine said, silencing our stepbrother.

I sighed. “I hate when you’re right, Cat.”

My sister sat up straighter and grinned at me. “Remember what I said on Friday? I’m the wise sibling. The sooner you accept that I’m always right, the better things will go for you. And quit calling me Cat. You know I don’t like it.”

“My bad.”

Hayden snorted. “See? He can’t say ‘I’m sorry,’ not even with something simple. He’s incapable. Good luck, Max. Laura is going to eat you for breakfast.”

Chapter 12

Laura

I arrived on the top floor of the massive and luxurious office tower at ten to nine. The elevator spat me out and I crossed the lobby to a set of double glass doors that read ‘Nova Corp.’ Pushing my way inside, I found a young woman sitting at a sprawling cherry oak desk. She looked up at me, smiled, and told me her name was Casey.

“Hi Casey. I’m Laura. I’m supposed to meet Max here at nine o’clock.”

“Alright. I’ll let him know you’re here as soon as he arrives.”

“He’s not here yet?”

Casey shook her head. “No. He usually doesn’t show until nine on the dot. The perks of owning your own business.”

I didn’t say anything about how I was usually the first one in the door and the last one out at my office. Apparently we were on opposite ends of the work ethic scale. I sighed and looked around. “Alright. I don’t mind waiting.”

“We have a comfortable waiting room. Follow me,” Casey said, as she stepped out from behind her desk.

I followed her down a long hallway. It was lined with spectacular pieces of art. Doors opened up into private offices on the exterior side of the building, so each person with an office had a wall of windows and a good view of the city. A beautiful view, actually.

This company was bigger than I thought. It must have employed at least a hundred people on just this floor alone. I had no idea what scale his company operated on and how many other offices Max had.

Casey showed me to a lavish waiting room. The walls were a soothing taupe and a running water feature sat against one wall. To the right of it was a coffee bar hosting three different kinds of machines—coffee press, Keurig, and an espresso machine.

A full blown, I shit you not, espresso machine.

“Can I interest you in a coffee?” Casey offered, walking over to the coffee bar.

“Uh,” I stammered.

She smiled, “Espresso it is. Latte? Mocha? Cappuccino? I can make it all.”

“Erm.”

Casey opened the bar fridge built into the coffee bar and pulled out a jug of milk and a silver canister. Whipped cream. She waggled it. “How about I make you something special? Any allergies I should know about?”

“No,” I said.

“Perfect. You get comfortable. This will just take a minute.”

How accommodating. How luxurious. How completely bizarre.

I admired the room and took a seat in a mossy green colored armchair. It hugged me tight and I settled into it. All that was missing was a blanket to drape over my legs. But that might have been overkill.

I caught whiffs of citrus and cinnamon as I waited for my coffee. Candles burning on a couple surfaces sent warm scents throughout the office. This place was like a home away from home.

The five kids I had in mind for the internship positions were going to love it here.

Casey finished up the coffee with a swirl of whipped cream on top. She brought it over and handed it to me. There was even a sprinkle of cinnamon. “I hope you like it, but please, let me know if it’s not your thing and I’ll make you something else.”

“I’m sure it will be delicious,” I smiled. I took a sip and my mouth was filled with the flavor of Christmas. “Oh, my gosh, this is really good.”

Casey pressed her hands together and beamed at me. “I’m glad you like it! I’ve been playing with the recipe to perfect the perfect Christmas inspired latte. It has cinnamon and gingerbread in it.”

“Seriously. It’s yummy,” I said, as I licked whipped cream from my upper lip.

“Excellent. You enjoy and relax. I’ll be just down the hall if you need me and will send Max to you as soon as he arrives and gets settled.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I was left in peace. The waiting room felt more like the sort of place you would sit and wait before going in to get a full body massage. It did not give off business meeting vibes.

I suppose you could give off whatever vibes you wanted when you were worth billions of dollars.

“Don’t be bitter, Laura,” I told myself.

By the time I finished my coffee Max had still not arrived and it was five after nine. The bitterness I had tried to ward off had settled in my chest and made a home there. How dare he make me wait? I knew five minutes wasn’t a huge amount of time, but we had agreed to meet at nine, and he hadn’t left things on the best foot the other night at the fundraiser.

He owed it to me to be here on time.

I tried to remind myself that he was doing me and the kids I was trying to help a huge favor. He was offering them something I never could dream of. I should be grateful, not spiteful and angry.

But my annoyance only grew until, at twenty-seven minutes after nine, Max rounded the corner of the waiting room. He drew up short when he saw me. “I’m late,” he said.

“An astute observation,” I said, getting to my feet.

“It was a busy morning and—”

“I don’t care why you were late, Max. Let’s just get on with it, shall we? The office is beautiful.”

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. If he thought I was going to be upset with him and give him a piece of my mind he was sorely mistaken. I only had time and energy to expend on people I wanted to help or change. Not people who were a lost cause.

Max nodded. “Alright. Come with me. I’ll show you around.”

I handed him my empty coffee mug. He stared at it as I walked around him out into the hall. “Which way?” I asked, pointing left and then right.

“Uh. Right,” he said, and then he put the empty coffee mug down on the bar beside the espresso machine, most likely for Casey to clean up. I internally rolled my eyes and started off down the hallway to the right.

Max walked along behind me and told me about all the offices. He showed me the common areas, like the kitchen, or the open office, where there were fifty cubicles. He showed me the five vacant ones and said this is where the kids would end up if their internships went well.

“What sort of work would you have them doing when they start?” I asked.

Max slid his hands into his pant pockets and shrugged. “Easy stuff to start. I think it’s important for new hires to get used to the vibes and the culture before they start taking on the real work. So, to start, I’d keep it simple. They could fill in where other employees need an extra pair of hands or set of eyes. I need proof readers for code. Someone to get coffee.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Really? You’re going to turn them into errand runners?”

“No. But, if there comes a time where I decide I want to buy the office lunch or coffee, your five kids are the people I’ll send. Everyone has to start somewhere. And, let’s be honest, they won’t be in a position to be picky or choosy about what jobs they’re given.”

“I don’t disagree.”

“Good,” he said.

He brought me to the kitchen next. It was a sprawling space with white cabinets and three fridges all in a neat row. The place was sparkling clean. He showed me the contents of the fridge and pantries and explained that there is always something to eat and drink here. He also told me that lunches were supplied by him on Fridays.

“It seems more like a second home than a place of work,” I told him when he took me into his office.

He closed the door behind us but left all the blinds open. Employees were showing up for their shifts, rolling in looking fresh faced and happy to be there. They lingered in the hallways and made small talk and Max never batted an eye. He never popped his head out to tell them to get to work. I wondered if this place even had regular opening and closing hours.

“I like to keep it inviting,” he said. “I have low turnover for a reason. The people I hire are highly skilled, and I don’t have the time to find replacements for them. Even if I did, they wouldn’t be better than the people I have out there on the floor. They’re a good team.”

He took a seat behind his sleek and simple desk. After kicking his heels up on the desk he motioned for me to sit. “Please. Sit down.”

I sat, pressing my knees together and resting my hands on top of them. “Max, I—” I looked down. “I want to apologize. I’ve been short and cranky with you, despite you doing a pretty incredible thing for these kids. I’m sorry.”

He arched an eyebrow and tried to conceal his smug expression. “I deserved it. Look, I shouldn’t have invited you up to the penthouse. That was inappropriate at best. And I should have been here at nine. I’m the one who’s sorry here.”

It was a bit weird to hear those words come out of his mouth. “Thank you.”

He took his feet down and sat up straight. “So, I trust your judgement. I don’t need to meet the kids you choose, you’re free to just bring them in. I was thinking they could start next Monday?”

“Oh,” I said, surprised by his eagerness. “I still need to think a bit about this.”

Max itched his stubble. I could hear the whisper of his fingernails against the short black hairs. “That’s alright. I can give you until Friday.”

“Why the deadline?”

“I need people in those seats, Laura. If it’s not your kids, I need to fill them with somebody, and sooner rather than later.”

“At the risk of losing pennies,” I said, sarcastically.

“I’m rich for a reason,” he said, with a cocky grin.

I crossed my legs and tried not to smile. I didn’t need him thinking I thought he was funny. Because I didn’t. Insufferable was what he was.

At least that was what I was telling myself.

“You don’t think very highly of me after Saturday night, do you?” Max asked.

I studied him. The sharp lines of his face, the smug curl of his lips, the devious glint in his eyes. “What I think doesn’t matter. This isn’t about you or me. This is about providing an opportunity to those who haven’t had any.”

“I agree. Let me make it up to you then. I’ll triple their starting wages and really get them started on the right foot.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“What? Why?”

“Like you said before. Everyone has to start somewhere. I want these kids to get the most useful experience here, not the easiest. If they want more they have to earn it. If they do exceptional work, reward them if you see fit, but don’t do anything unrealistic. They also need to fit in here, and not be seen as the street kids getting a free ride. They need to contribute and be accountable like everyone else. This needs to be a real internship program.”

“I like that.”

I didn’t care whether he liked it or not. It was important to me. I wanted these kids to come out of this office as ready for the real world as possible. The world was likely to knock them down a thousand more times by doing them any favors.

“Thank you,” I said. At least he was respecting my wishes. I pushed myself up to my feet and straightened out my jacket. “I’ll think on this for the rest of the week. You’ll hear from me by Friday.”

Max stood as well. “Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything else from me to help you make your decision.”

I flashed him a white smile. “I won’t.”

He laughed. “Of course not.”

Chapter 13

Max

I tapped my index finger impatiently upon my desk as I scowled at my inbox. No new messages. It was Wednesday afternoon. Laura had already had practically three full days to consider my offer and I hadn’t heard a peep from her.

It was starting to get on my nerves.

No matter what way I looked at it, this was a great opportunity for these kids she loved so much. It would get their foot in the door in an industry where the earning potential had no cap. I was the perfect example. My people were well paid and lived very comfortable lives. I took care of them and their families because I knew their worth. Each and every person in my office was irreplaceable, and they knew it.

And I made sure they fucking knew it. It was, in my opinion, the most crucial aspect to running a successful business. Especially one the size of Nova Corp.

I was staring at my inbox when Casey knocked on my office door and pushed it open. “She still hasn’t emailed you?”

I shook my head. I could feel my features drawing inward into a scowl and tried to relax.

“Well, I’m sure she will. You guys agreed Friday was the last day, right?”

I nodded. “Yeah. She’s just such a go-getter. To be honest I was surprised she hadn’t confirmed first thing Tuesday morning.”

“Sounds to me like she’s making you sweat it out,” Casey winked.

“You are quite possibly right.”

“Stop scowling at your screen. You have a call with that new online banking company in fifteen minutes. You should prepare.”

“Prepare?” I smirked.

Casey rolled her eyes. “You should at least pretend to prepare. Anything is better than what you’re doing right now.”

I listened to Casey’s advice. Well, sort of listened.

I spent the next ten minutes giving my desk a quick clean out. When everything was tidy and organized the way I liked it, I dropped back into my chair and dialed into the call room I’d set up for my new client so we could talk privately. We discussed the ins and outs of doing business together, and from just forty-five minutes on the phone with him I learned of several vulnerabilities in his current security software. After pointing them out to him, he told me I had his business. Cost didn’t matter. He needed to guarantee that his clients and their information were protected, and I was the only one he trusted to get the job done right.

He was a smart man.

After the call I stretched my back and checked the time. It was nearly five.

Getting up, I walked to my office door, which I threw open. Casey was working away at her desk and looked up at me as I cleared my throat. She cocked her head to the side. “How’d your call go?”

“Better than I could have hoped.”

“I’m glad,” she smiled.

“I think I want to celebrate. We’re all about to make a bunch of money. Put me on the intercom,” I said, leaning over her desk.

Casey picked up the phone and punched a couple of buttons. Our ears were assaulted by a brief but fierce tinny shriek as all the phones in the office switched to speakerphone. I leaned over further so that I could speak into the phone. “This is your captain speaking, ladies and gentlemen,” I said. Casey started to giggle and I shot her a big smile. “I am pleased to inform you that our flight is landing early. Please wrap up any last minute things you have to attend to and meet me at the front of the plane. I will be escorting you all to a local pub called Lou’s, where those interested can partake in drinks and shots on yours truly. That will be all.”

Casey ended the call. Far down the hall, past the waiting room, break room, and communal kitchen, I could hear the office staff whooping and hollering. I knew already that it was going to be a good night and I was glad for it.

I needed the distraction.

Part of the reason I was annoyed with not having heard from Laura was that I was waiting on her. I thought about it every day. Hell, this morning I’d woken up and rolled over to check my phone to see if she’d emailed me. Something was seriously wrong with me. I was never controlled by the presence of another person, but things were different where Laura Wessex was concerned. She’d always had an unexplainable power over me. She probably didn’t even know it, either.

Which made it all the more infuriating.

Casey got up from her chair and went to get her jacket from the hook near the office doors. “So Lou’s, huh?”

I nodded. “Hell yeah.”

“Why that choice?”

“Because he doesn’t put up Christmas decorations.”

Casey shook her head as she pulled her coat up over her shoulders and then flipped her hair out from under it. “So predictable, Max. You do know that some of us actually like the holidays, right? Or even love it all?”

“I’m aware.”

“You just don’t care?”

I grinned. “You know me so well.”

“That’s my job,” Casey said.

We stood and waited near the front doors as people from the office came out and joined us. Most had their jackets on already. Some had to stop and pluck theirs from the rack Casey had just taken hers from. Once we were all ready to leave we struck out and headed six blocks south to Lou’s Bar.

Lou’s was always a good choice—especially when you were showing up with a big crowd. It was rarely ever busy, and if it was the place was so well run that they handled the influx of bodies really well. Tonight the place was quiet, at least for now. When we arrived, the six or so people inside turned to look at us file in one after the other, until we were all inside. There were forty-seven of us. Some had opted to stay at the office, while others took the opportunity to get home early to their families.

Of course, I could see the appeal in that. It must be nice to have a partner to return to at the end of a long day. Or children who greet you with sticky hands, toothless smiles and unconditional adoration.

My apartment would greet me with emptiness and echoes.

I was in no particular rush to get there.

Making my way to the bar, with my crew in tow, I ordered a round of beer for everyone inside, including the six other patrons. That lifted the mood, in that special way that only a ‘round for the house’ call could do. Immediately the bartender, and even Lou himself, started pouring beers and passing them down the bar. I crammed a hundred dollar bill in the tip jar. He knew what this routine was and that he was going to make bank tonight.

Once everyone had their beer and began claiming tables, I found one near the jukebox. Oh yes, Lou’s had a jukebox. I dropped down into a chair after spinning it around so I could sit in it backwards. Draping my forearms over the back of it, Casey and two other office guys, Daniel and Lee, took up the other two chairs. Lee had been pining after Casey ever since I hired him two years ago fresh out of ‘App Development’ school. He was a quick learner, with a keen mind and the ability to solve coding bugs like no one I’d ever met.

Besides myself.

He was integral to the team, but he was tiring for poor Casey, who never seemed too interested in his attentiveness to her.

But it was always entertaining for me.

Lee was leaning on the table across from Casey when I pulled out my phone to check my emails one last time. Nothing. I wasn’t surprised.

So, I composed a new message and sent Laura a quick email just to check in and ask if she had any questions. It gave me some peace of mind after I hit send, so I turned my volume off, slipped the phone back into my pocket, and sipped the foam off my beer. It was going to be a good night and I wasn’t going to look at my phone until I needed to figure out a ride home for everyone.

Lee, a good looking young Korean man, tipped his head at Casey as she drained her glass of beer. His eyes widened a bit. “Can I get you another?” he asked.

Casey nodded, “Sure.”

Lee scrambled up out of his chair and hurried back to the bar where he would add another beer to my tab. If he was smart he’d come back with a shot or two, but I was pretty confident his strengths lay in coding, not impressing women.

Daniel nudged me in the upper arm. “This was a great idea. Thanks for taking us out, man. It’s been a hell of a week for me. I needed to blow off some steam.”

“I know how you feel, man,” I said.

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “The holidays always do this to me.”

Casey interjected. “Don’t spoil things for Daniel. This is his first Christmas working for you. You don’t need to shit on his parade already.”

“Nobody is shitting on anyone’s parade,” I said.

Daniel looked back and forth between us and pressed his hand flat to his chest. “I hate Christmas, too.”

“Ass kisser, oh my God,” Casey accused. “You’re just saying that to get in with the boss.”

“Am not.”

“Are too,” Casey said.

“Children,” I chuckled. “Simmer down. We’re all entitled to our opinions, right? Daniel and I can’t help that ours are just a little more—what’s the word? Realistic. Christmas is just a big money grab.”

“You’re a fine one to be complaining about money grabs,” Casey said flatly.

“She does have a point there,” Daniel said.

I turned to him. “Whose side are you on, Daniel?”

Daniel stumbled over his words a bit and, when he realized he was digging himself a hole and would be hopelessly caught in a crossfire between me and Casey, he shut up and drank his beer.

I laughed at the look on his face. “I’m just pulling your leg. Casey can’t help herself. She loves Christmas. I caught her humming Christmas carols in the elevator on the first day of November for God’s sake.”

“No!” Daniel gasped.

Casey rolled her eyes. “Oh please. I’m not the only one. Where the hell is Lee with my other beer? The two of you are soul suckers. Christmas is what you make it, and you two make it miserable.”

“It’s easier,” Daniel said. “No expectations, no disappointments.”

“That is just sad,” Casey said.

“Maybe,” Daniel admitted with a shrug. “But I’ve been conditioned by my past experiences. Christmas is best when it’s over.”

“Amen,” I said, lifting my beer.

He and I both drank while Casey sat back and crossed her arms, shaking her head. “Idiots.”

Lee returned with four more beers and quickly became the MVP of the evening. He also brought shots with him, and once those were down the hatch the discussion of Christmas faded away and the celebrating got underway. People fought to get to the karaoke machine, but parted like the sea for me when I decided I wanted to choose a song.

There were perks to being the boss. Like choosing the music and the type of boss you wanted to be. I liked that my employees were also my friends. I liked being able to take them out for a good time.

And I liked that I’d found one other person in this damn city who hated Christmas as much as I did.

Chapter 14

Laura

I crossed my legs under myself on the white sofa in my office and planted my hands on my knees. Leaning over, I peered down at the photographs of all the kids I worked with who were over the age of sixteen and qualified for the paid internship at Nova Corp.

There was a total of thirty five kids and the task of bringing that number down to five had been more than a little difficult. I sighed and looked up at Ella, who was sitting on the matching sofa across from me. She gave me a weak smile and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I know it’s hard.”

“It sucks,” I groaned.

“Well, the good news is that there’s a chance you can talk Max into keeping this program running. Maybe once this internship is done you can move some of the other kids into the same positions.”

“Talking Max into anything is a pain in the ass. Trust me, I know.”

“Well then I guess we just have to hope it works out so well you don’t have to do any persuading.”

I nodded absently as I raked my eyes over the photographs one more time. We’d both selected the top five kids we thought would benefit the most and be successful in this program. I was confident they were the right choices. Max’s coding and security software business was right up their alley. They were all computer and math kids with an affinity for problem solving and logical thinking. There was no doubt in my mind that they would love working at Nova, and that Max would see their value and feel confident recommending them to future employers.

That was, after all, what this whole thing was about.

“I think we should stick with the five we picked out from the start,” I said, rubbing my hands from my knees up to the middle of my thighs. “Trust our guts.”

“I agree. This is going to knock their socks off.”

I grinned. I’d been smiling like an idiot all evening as we sorted through the portfolios of each kid and narrowed it down to our top five. Sure, it had been hard, and I struggled with a lot of guilt, but I was really excited for them. This was a huge step in the right direction and the potential to keep the program going brought me more hope than I’d felt in my soul since I was back at school, back before I really knew how hard and cruel the world could be.

“I can’t wait to tell them,” I said.

“I want to be there.”

“Of course you’ll be there, Ella! You have to be.”

Ella shifted on the sofa so she could lean back and put her heels up on the glass coffee table littered with photographs. “Then tonight’s work is done. And thank God for that. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, it’s later than we realized.”

“Great,” Ella said, rubbing at her eyes.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table, skidding to the right with the vibration. I scooped it up and stared down at a message from Max himself, checking in on me and asking if I needed anything from him. I put the phone face down on the coffee table.

Ella narrowed her eyes at me. “Who was that?”

“Max.”

“And what did he want?”

“To check in. I’m sure it’s driving him nuts that I didn’t get back to him right away. He never was good at waiting.”

“Most people aren’t. Especially rich people who are used to having everybody at their beck and call.”

“Actually, that may be why I’m making him wait,” I giggled.

“Bad girl.”

I shrugged, “He deserves it. He’s been a complete ass. Not that I’m not grateful to him for what he’s doing for the kids. I just don’t think his intentions are as pure as he’d like me to think they are.”

“At least you’re going into this with your eyes open,” Ella said.

“Wide open.”

“What ever happened between the two of you?”

I sighed. “Nothing happened, per say. We were just incompatible. He was entitled, and cocky, and I was never a priority. He was young and so was I. I thought a guy like him was what I wanted, but after a while I realized there was supposed to be more to a relationship than just good sex.”

“Well, good sex in college is a great natural stress reliever.”

I laughed and shook my head at my friend. “Yeah. But Max was more stress than the sex was worth. Way more stress.” I considered the words that had just come out of my mouth. Being with Max had been a roller coaster. I never knew what he wanted or how he felt about me, and he was all over the place in terms of the direction he wanted his own life to go.

I might be getting in over my head by partnering with him for my foundation.

Suddenly nervous, something tightened in my chest. Was this the right decision to make? Yes, it would be good for the kids, but was it only temporary? Was I setting them up to be excited about something that wasn’t going to last, or that would end badly? Max had an uncanny way of derailing perfectly laid plans like no other man I’d ever met in my life. If he let these kids down, it would be on my head for getting them involved in the first place.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Ella asked.

Concern was evident in her voice. I looked up at her as she took her heels down from the coffee table and leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. I shook my head. “Nothing.”

“Liar. I know that look. It’s the same look you get when you’re worried about someone hating the Christmas gift you got them.”

“I’m worried that this whole thing might be a mistake.”

“What thing?”

I stared blankly at her. “Letting these kids work for Max. He’s unpredictable, Ella. For all I know he has no plans of actually helping these kids. Maybe he’s just in it for personal gain.”

“But that’s why you’ll be there to keep him in line.”

“Is that worth it? I have enough on my plate. I don’t want to—”

“Oh no. You’re not backing out of this now,” Ella scolded. “This is too good of an opportunity for the kids and for the foundation. If it goes badly, then it goes badly. You can tell the five kids before they start that this is just a trial and error thing. They shouldn’t go into it thinking this will solve all their problems anyway. Staying realistic and grounded is important. It’s real life experience, which is exactly what they need. You can’t deny them because of drama between you and your ex college boyfriend. It’s been a decade, Laura. Time to move on.”

I loved Ella for many reasons, and one of them was her ability to be real and honest with me in times of crisis; or times when I couldn’t make heads or tails deciding what the right choice was.

Raking my fingers through my hair, I stood up. Ella watched me collect all the photos and put them in a neat pile. The pictures of the five kids we chose for the internship were set off to the side. I straightened up and put my hands on my hips before nodding decisively. “You’re right. Thanks for keeping a level head through all this, Ella. I think I’ll need your advice even more often than usual going into this mess.”

“I’ll be here for you babe. Always.”

The weight on my chest began to ebb away.

“Now,” Ella said, pointing at my phone. “Tell Max you’ve decided to take him up on his offer.”

“Right now?”

“Right now. Before you get cold feet again.”

Knowing she was right yet again, I picked up my phone and opened my email app. I wasn’t going to text him—not if I could avoid it. I wanted to keep things between us as professional as possible.

Max,

Thank you for giving me the time I needed to make a decision. I’m happy to tell you that I would like to work together for the sake of the kids at my foundation. I can’t wait to tell them about your generous offer. They will be excited to meet you. Are we still on for starting on Monday, December 10th?

Regards,

Laura Wessex

I hit the send button, feeling satisfied with the tone of the message. There was no way he and I would get our wires crossed again—and no way that he would have the nerve to invite me up for a night in a damn Jacuzzi. We were business associates, nothing more.

“Done?” Ella asked, as she got to her feet and stretched her arms up over her head. With two sharp twists she cracked her back and then bent over to touch her toes. She groaned as all her tense muscles were pulled. “We’ve been sitting here way too long.”

I looked at the clock on my wall. “Six hours since the office closed.”

“Seriously?” Ella asked, straightening up and blinking at me. “No wonder I’m so stiff.”

Nodding, I slipped out of my shoes before padding over to the bar fridge in my office. I liked to keep the place stocked with all my needs for nights like this when I had to stay late, which happened nearly once a week, and sometimes more these days. Frequently, if I was here late, Ella was here as well. Crouching down in front of the fridge, I pulled out some eggnog, Bailey’s and a plate of chilled Christmas goodies one of my employees had given me earlier in the week.

I poured Ella and myself a glass of eggnog and Bailey’s, then went and sat back down on the sofa. Ella thanked me and peeled the plastic wrap off the top of the plate of goodies. Her hand hovered over the assortment of treats until she decided on the Nanaimo bar. She took a bite and closed her eyes as she chewed. “How do people make these things taste so damn good? I’m a nightmare in the kitchen.”

“Melony has talent, that’s for sure.” I went in for a butter tart. It was sweet and savory— heavenly goodness.

Ella finished her Nanaimo bar and licked melted chocolate off her fingertips. Then she uncrossed her legs and reached for her drink. “So, I’ve been crunching the numbers of next year’s projections and the money we’ve earned through fundraising.”

“Oh?” I asked. This was something I hadn’t planned on getting to until the middle of January, once all the hectic Christmas festivities were over.

Ella nodded. “I couldn’t wait. I had to know what we were looking at and I figured you might like having something off your plate.”

“I appreciate it. What did you find?”

Ella grinned. “I think we’ll be able to start hiring contractors and builders for the children’s home by February.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I know we still have a lot of money to raise before this can become a reality, but I think if we start taking steps toward building the children’s home it will increase our exposure and we’ll be able to reach even more people who want to help out. And let’s be honest. We have to start eventually. It can’t just be a dream forever.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “We’re really doing this thing, aren’t we?”

“Hell yeah we are,” Ella said. “It’s a Christmas miracle!”

I giggled and we tapped the edges of our cups together. “Can you believe how far we’ve come in the last decade?”

“No. Not at all. I still feel like that wide-eyed girl wandering around the hallways halfway lost.”

“Lost? You were only ever going one place. The—”

“Cafeteria. Yeah, I know. My priorities were a little askew back then, okay?”

I laughed and reached for another sweet. I chose a salted caramel square this time. “You were overwhelmed with your philanthropic studies and philosophy classes. Plus that one really random economics course you took.”

“Worst semester of my life. I ate way too many bowls of mac and cheese.”

I thought back to when Ella and I had first met in one of our classes. She was shy—really shy. Our professor called on her to answer a question. I was sitting beside her taking notes on my very old, very heavy HP laptop, and when I saw she couldn’t speak in front of the two hundred other students in the lecture room, I answered the question on her behalf.

We’d been inseparable ever since.

And we had done great things since then, excessive mac and cheese and self-involved ex-boyfriends aside.

Chapter 15

Max

There was a good reason for the spring in my step on Monday morning, the tenth of December: I was early for work.

I rolled into the office at quarter to nine in the morning. My usual arrival time was generally anywhere between nine thirty and ten. Sometimes noon on a bad day.

But today was different. I was looking forward to seeing Laura and meeting the crew of five she was bringing in to fill the intern positions I had. I’d alerted the staff last Friday as to what the plan was with the kids. I took five top employees and asked if they were willing to work one on one with the interns to get them oriented and comfortable. I knew they’d all say yes, but I wanted to make sure they weren’t stretched too thin with their workloads as it was. All of them seemed as intrigued as I was by the potential this program offered, and jumped at the idea.

After being at the office for no more than five minutes on Monday morning I was assaulted with wise cracks from my team.

“You know it’s not even nine yet, right?”

“Who are you and what have you done to Max Miller?”

“Did all the clocks jump forward in your house or something?”

“Good one, but April Fool’s Day is still months away.”

“Is there a meeting this morning I don’t know about?”

Casey, in all her smug glory, sat behind her desk giggling every time someone said something. I shot her a dark look. “Go ahead. Is there something you’d like to say about my overly punctual arrival?”

“Oh no, not at all,” she said, clasping her hands together in front of her computer keyboard. “I think they already covered all the things I was thinking.”

“Nice. Real nice, Casey.”

She grinned. “No problem.”

I went into my office, ignoring all the sniggering of the other employees around us, and closed my door behind me. I knew they were still watching me through the windows, more than a little bemused by the whole situation. I kept my back to them and pretended not to be bothered in the slightest as I hung up my coat and sat down at my own desk.

It was hard to keep my eyes downcast as everyone walking by cracked a joke about my ass being in my chair before nine o’clock.

The bastards would pay. I could take it off their Christmas bonuses. Or stop buying lunches on Fridays. Or not let anyone go home early once or twice a week just because I liked to keep morale up.

Who was I kidding? I was more of a slave to them than they were to me. I wanted to keep them happy. And if keeping them happy meant being the brunt of a few—or a hundred—tardiness jokes, then it was worth it.

I’d just gotten my email open when I looked up and saw Laura standing in front of Casey’s reception desk. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a pair of little brown boots that were slouched around her ankles. A long cardigan was tied around her waist and the multicolored scarf she had on was eye catching. I could hear her and Casey’s voices but couldn’t make out the words.

Behind Laura, and hanging back from the reception desk by a good ten feet or so, was a cluster of five teenagers.

They were what you would expect from a cluster of five teenagers. They stood together like pack animals. Their eyes drifted around the room as they strained their ears to hear what was being said between my receptionist and their savior, Laura Wessex.

Most were dressed in dark pants and button up shirts. Basic office attire. The two girls had on pants as well and had their hair nicely done. I wondered if Laura was behind that.

I stood up, adjusted my jacket, and walked out of my office. As soon as I pushed my glass door open, the kids all turned to look at me like their heads were on swivels. I gave them a polite nod and muttered, “Good morning.”

The two girls said good morning back. The three boys simply blinked at me and watched me approach Laura.

She turned to me. I noticed her multicolored scarf was in the pattern of small flowers. “Good morning,” Laura said, looking me up and down. “I’m half surprised to see you here this early. I thought I’d have to sit and sip your fancy coffee again.”

I cleared my throat as Casey started to giggle. She clamped a hand over her mouth and I smiled at Laura. “That was a one-time thing.”

“Sure it was,” Laura said knowingly. She turned to the kids and swept her arm in an encompassing gesture over all five of them. “This is Abigail, Jade, Everett, Lewis, and Jim.” The kids gave me well-rehearsed smiles.

“Welcome to Nova Corp,” I said. When the kids all bowed their heads together and whispered to one another I could feel the excitement radiating off of them. It seemed that Laura had chosen well. All five of them seemed eager—so eager in fact they were almost brimming over with excitement.

I rubbed my hands together. “I’m glad you’re all here. Laura is a very special woman and she went through a lot of hard work to make this happen. I hope you’ve all thanked her work in getting you this opportunity.”

Laura rolled her eyes at me, “Come on. Skip ahead to the relevant stuff, Miller.”

Grinning sheepishly, I tilted my head in the direction of the hallway that led to the waiting room, kitchen, and break room. Past that was where the office opened up to a full open concept floor of cubicles and desks where my staff worked. “Follow me. I’ll show you around the office and get you each to your personal mentors. Then you can start working right away.”

More whispering ensued as they all fell into step behind me. The heels of Laura’s boots struck the hardwood as she followed, hot on my heels.

At my instruction we stopped at the kitchen first, where I told them they were free to bring their own food. I assured everyone that their food would not be touched by anyone else in the office. I also made sure to inform them that I provided snacks at all times, and if they didn’t bring their own food there was more than enough here to go around. These kids weren’t well off and I knew there was a high chance all of them would be showing up to work every day with no meals.

I also informed them that lunch was brought in for them on Fridays and they were free to use all the coffee machines at their own discretion. The fridge provided filtered water, and inside contained a couple different types of juice, much to my disapproval but at the insistence of my staff. In my mind juice was not a beverage to be had in the workplace. Just like soda. I’d managed to keep it out so far, but it was clear that I was fighting a losing battle. The people wanted fizzy goodness.

I wanted them working at their optimum level, rather than being powered by caffeine and sugar. In the back of my mind somewhere, I was aware of the hypocrisy, since the fancy coffee machines produced drinks containing the very same ingredients.

After I finished my briefing on the kitchen we moved to the break room. “This room is to be used as you see fit. If you need to come in and take a break from staring at a computer screen, I completely understand. Take as long as you like. So long as you get the work done and done properly, I don’t care where you spend your time. My other employees will enforce that. Don’t work yourself so hard that you burn out. I always have that issue with interns.”

One of the kids muttered, “Did he just tell us not to work too hard?”

I peered at the one who had spoken. I was pretty sure he was the one Laura pointed out as Lewis. I nodded at him. “You heard correctly, Lewis. Don’t overdo it. My people are my assets and without them Nova would be nothing but a pile of rubble. I believe in frequent oil changes to keep the car running smoothly. Make sense?”

Lewis nodded, “Yes sir.”

“Please. Call me Max.”

I led them through to the rest of the office. We emerged in the open concept area with floor to ceiling windows all the way around. Bright sunlight streamed in, lighting up all the dust particles in the air but also making the room appear very welcoming and spacious. The staff who had arrived for the day all looked up and smiled. Some offered friendly hello’s as I walked through the middle of the office to set the kids up at their desks with their temporary mentors. I wanted to have them all sitting together so they could maintain a sense of camaraderie. I wouldn’t be like one of those grumpy old high school teachers who refused to let you sit with your friends.

Unless of course they proved to me that they were incapable of getting their work done while sitting with said friends. And of course we couldn’t have them disturbing other workers and things of that nature.

I introduced the kids to their mentors, five senior developers on my team with the skills and patience to make excellent trainers. They kept it fun and light and within minutes everyone was cracking jokes and swapping stories.

At one point I noticed Laura looking at me as I leaned back against one of the desks. “What?”

“Nothing,” she shrugged.

“I know that look. It wasn’t nothing.”

She shrugged again and looked away to watch the kids tuck into their new desks. “This is all just really cool, Max. That’s all. It’s a great thing you’re doing.”

Milly, one of my debuggers, stood up from her desk and pushed her glasses up onto her head. “Yeah Max. This is super cool.”

“Thanks Mil,” I said.

“I like your Christmas spirit,” Milly said, nudging me in the ribs as she came out from behind her desk and wandered off, presumably to the break room or kitchen.

“Christmas has nothing to do with it,” I muttered.

“Scrooge,” Laura said.

I looked over at her. She had her arms crossed as she smirked at me, her full pink lips curled upward in the corners like she had a secret.

I slipped my hands into my pockets. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“So am I,” she said.

My team of mentors was busy chatting up the kids Laura had brought in, already beginning orientation. I nodded at Laura and we ducked away, heading between the center row of desks and making our way out into the hallway.

I stopped when we were standing outside the break room. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“I brought some work with me,” she said, lifting up her oversized purse. “I was planning on finding a comfortable spot to sit down and get some things done. Is that alright?”

“Of course. Take a seat wherever you like. There are a few empty desks out there you could use if you’d like.”

She shook her head. “Actually, I was planning to sit in the waiting room if that’s okay.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Sure.”

“It’s just that I like the vibe in there.”

“The vibe?” I chuckled.

Her cheeks turned pink. “Yes. It’s soothing. And calm. It reminds me a bit of my office and I work better in a spot like that.”

“Well, whatever floats your boat is fine with me. Just try not to drink too many of those coffees. That stuff will give you the jitters.”

“Consider me warned,” Laura said, before turning to head down to the waiting room.

“Hey,” I called after her.

Laura stopped and looked back at me over her shoulder. Her lips were parted as if she was going to say something, or ask me something, but she remained silent, just staring at me with those curious big brown eyes of hers.

“Can I take you out for lunch?”

Her eyes narrowed.

I held up my hands, showing her my palms in a surrendering position. “No funny business. Just lunch.”

She licked her lips. “I’m not going to some fancy place that only serves snails.”

“Escargot.”

“Whatever.”

I chuckled. “Alright. We won’t go anywhere like that. How about a place with burgers and fries on the menu?”

Laura pursed her lips and her cheeks puckered. Then she nodded decisively. “Alright. Come and get me when you want to go.”

“Deal.”

Chapter 16

Laura

Max popped his head into the waiting room at exactly twelve o’clock. With a big grin he said, “Let’s eat.”

I folded up my laptop and slid it into my bag before standing up and slinging it over my shoulder. Following him out of the office, we got into the elevator, which from this high up was a significant ride to ground level.

More than enough time trapped in a confined space with Max Miller.

The man smelled like Christmas, which I didn’t dare tell him. The scent of pine and sandalwood—and something else, something muskier—hung around him like an aura. I had to mentally check myself before I inhaled a deep breath standing just a foot away from him as we descended.

Not only did he smell good, but he radiated confidence. He held himself with pride, and when he glanced over at me as I was looking up at him, he gave me a crooked smile. “Hungry?” I couldn’t be sure if he was clueless to the fact that I’d just been ogling him like a fool, or if he’d caught me and decided to spare me the humiliation of pointing it out.

Knowing Max it was probably the former. If he’d known I was giving him a good once over he would have reveled in it for sure.

“I’m a bit peckish, yes.”

“Peckish?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Yes. Peckish. It just means hungry.”

“I know what it means.”

I sighed. “Then why repeat it?”

Max adjusted the collar of his jacket. “I just haven’t heard anyone under the age of sixty use that word in a long time.”

“Oh. Ha-ha.”

Max smirked and just then the elevator doors opened and he stepped out. I followed him across the massive lobby and out into the sunny, but not nearly warm enough LA weather. A glossy black BMW sedan was parked at the curb. Max put his hand out to guide me to it, and then opened the back door for me. I slid across the leather seat to the far side and he stepped up to sit beside me.

As I buckled up, he told his driver the name of the restaurant we were going to, La Bouche.

We pulled away from the sidewalk and out into the busy traffic. I clipped my seatbelt on and placed my purse between my feet on the floor. “I thought you agreed nowhere fancy? La Bouche sounds pretty fancy.”

“It’s not. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

I frowned but didn’t push. There was no sense in going back and forth with a man like Max. He’d made the decision and I wasn’t going to waste any time or energy trying to change his mind. Instead, I spent the fifteen minute drive peering out the window at all the boutiques and shops along the busy street. Christmas trees winked in store window displays and Salvation Army Santa’s shook their jingle bells beside their donation boxes. Pedestrians dropped loose change in the buckets while little kids stared up at them in awe, most likely asking their parents how many Santa’s there were out in the world.

The driver pulled over sooner than I expected, and Max slid out and held the door open for me. We walked up onto the sidewalk and I found myself looking up at a restaurant that was, without a shadow of a doubt, fancier than I wanted it to be.

I looked down at my jeans and floral printed scarf. Then I looked up at Max. “Seriously? I said not fancy, you ass.”

“This isn’t fancy.”

“How can our definitions of fancy be so drastically different?”

“I guess it’s a rich versus poor thing. It’s all about perspective,” Max said, before walking up to the front door, which had a giant gold ‘B’ as the handle.

Had I not known him so well, I wouldn’t have known what he said was meant as a joke. As I stepped into the restaurant, I groaned inwardly, wishing I’d worn a dress to work this morning. Or a skirt. Anything besides jeans would have been better.

The person at the door, a young man in a sleek black suit, smiled at me, and then his blue eyes shifted to Max. “Mr. Miller,” he said, his grin broadening. “How nice to see you. For two? At your usual table?”

“Yes please,” Max nodded.

The young man led us through rows of obsidian tables, upon which a single rose sat in a gold narrow vase wrapped in etched vines. From the high ceiling above, a single lamp hung over each table, casting a soft glow down on the people seated beneath it.

Our table was a private booth at the back of the restaurant. We each slid into a side and were served water instantly. Then a waiter appeared to take our orders.

“Oh, I’ll need just a couple minutes to look over the menu,” I said.

Our waiter smiled. He had a kind smile, but his eyes calculated what he saw—a girl who did not belong. “We do not have menus at La Bouche, my dear.”

I blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

His smile became even sweeter. “We do not have menus.”

“Uh,” I began to stammer, feeling way out of my element and too flustered to string coherent words together.

Max saved me. “We’ll start with a glass of white wine, please. Then two Chef’s Burgers.”

The waiter gave Max a little bow before vanishing behind the partition that separated our private booth from the rest of the restaurant.

I glared at Max. “Are you so far removed from the reality of the normal person that you truly don’t know what ‘nothing fancy’ means. This is way too fancy—ridiculous even. Did you see the way he looked at me? Like I was a fish out of water.”

“Who cares?”

“Me, Max. I care. And then you go and order for me. How humiliating. I’m perfectly capable of ordering my own food, thank you very much. You don’t need to treat me like a child.”

“I wasn’t. I thought I was helping out. They don’t have menus and you said earlier you were good with a burger—”

Leaning forward, I dropped my voice to a thin, agitated whisper. “This is obviously not the sort of place where you casually order a freaking cheeseburger, Max. The Chef’s Burger is probably from another restaurant three blocks from here and they just run out and get it for you because you’re Max Miller, billionaire extraordinaire.”

“Hey, use my name and ‘extraordinaire; in the same sentence again. It sounds good.”

“Shut up, Max,” I grumbled.

Max shifted in his seat and was unable to stop the smile from playing across his lips. “I’m sorry that you’re uncomfortable, Laura. But you don’t need to be. I come to this place all the time and they don’t judge their customers. Besides. You’re with me. That means you’re automatically in their good books.”

“Do you have any idea how egotistical that sounds?”

“Sure. But it’s true. So it cancels out.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” I said. I could feel my foundation cracking. He was getting to me, and my cheeks were straining to stop my lips from stretching into a grin. He was amusing me. Damn him. He’d always been good at making me laugh, and this sort of banter was the same shit that got me in over my head when I met him back in college.

Back in that damn library.

I’d been studying for so long that I had to squint my eyes into slits just to stop the letters from blurring together on the page. My head was aching, especially right behind my eyes, and the nerves I thought would have calmed if I got in a good studying session had not abated. I was still just as nervous about my exam tomorrow as I’d been earlier this morning.

I slumped back in my chair and lifted my gaze from the history textbook. I’d only taken the course for extra credit and now I regretted it. It was pulling my GPA down and I really didn’t need the extra stress.

Peering around the library, I saw that the place was empty except for me, another student about five desks down from mine, and the librarian, Mrs. Hatchard. She had a wild white perm and red framed glasses. Her lips were as red as the frames and her eyeliner as dark as her soul.

She was quite possibly the meanest woman I’d ever met.

I was about to pour over my textbook again when someone else came into the library.

The moment I saw him I knew I wouldn’t be able to read another word from that damn book.

He walked with the effortless ease of an athlete—no, a dancer. His posture was proud and strong, and he held his chin up as he walked up to Mrs. Hatchard’s desk, leaned over it, and asked, “Do you have any extra Criminology 1101 textbooks left?”

Mrs. Hatchard didn’t look up at him right away. She let him stand there, arms draped over her desk, until she finally lifted her eyes and sighed. “That class started three weeks ago, young man. Are you telling me you’ve gone three weeks without bringing your textbook to class?”

“Not exactly,” he said.

“So you haven’t been going to class, then?”

He gave her a sheepish smile. A smile that instantly turned my knees to jelly. It was as if my legs had spontaneously fallen asleep the second I saw it.

Then he raked his fingers through his thick, messy black hair. “I’m not winning any awards for best student of the semester, but it would really help me out if you could point me in the right direction—Ma’am,” he added like an afterthought.

“Afraid I can’t. Ask your professor for a spare.”

“But then he’ll know I haven’t had one for three weeks.”

“Exactly,” Mrs. Hatchard said. For the first time in my whole first semester, she smiled. Tricky woman.

The student, unflustered by the exchange, straightened up, tapped the bottom of his fist on her desk, and thanked her for her help anyway.

Then he turned to leave and we locked eyes. He showered me with that smile of his and my legs went from jelly to liquid. I swallowed.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, on his way past me.

I turned around in my chair. “Excuse me?”

He stopped and turned back to me, pushing his unruly hair off his forehead. “Yes?”

“I can point you in the direction of a spare textbook. No guarantee, but it might still be lying around.”

The student chuckled. It was a deep, wonderful sound, and I could have sworn I felt it vibrate straight through me. Like how it feels when you’re standing beside a passing train. “What’s in it for you?”

I shrugged. “Nothing.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Show me, then.”

I closed my textbook and tucked it into my book bag. Shouldering the bag as I stood, I pushed in my chair, and motioned for him to follow me past the historical section and along the back wall of the library, which at this time of night was dimly lit and quiet. I ran my fingers along the spines, working my way past the psychology textbooks and fictional works until we found ourselves standing beneath a gold plaque on one of the shelves that read ‘Criminology’.

I tapped the plaque with my knuckle. “Here. If you have any luck at all there might still be one left.”

The student was watching me rather than watching the shelves to try to find his own damn book. I didn’t say anything, but continued scanning the shelves and had to bend down, where, on the bottom shelf, I found a beat up old copy of the book he needed. I stood, flipped it open, and nodded. “It’s in rough shape, but it looks like you’re only missing the first chapter, which I guess you won’t need anyway since you’re three weeks into the course.”

“Someone was eavesdropping.”

My cheeks burned.

He took the book from my hands. “I’m just playing with you. Thanks for your help. Really.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“Laura.”

“Laura,” he said. It sounded like he was rolling my name over his tongue. Like he was tasting it.

I trembled and reached up to grip the strap of my book bag. I needed something to do with my hands. “And yours?”

“Max,” he said, lifting his chin and giving me a cocky grin. “Max Miller.”

Chapter 17

Max

Our waiter appeared at the table with two glasses of chilled white wine. He set them down, asked if we needed anything else, and bustled off when I told him we were alright.

Laura pulled her glass toward herself and ran her finger along the base.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yes, sorry. I was thinking about something else.”

“Something you would care to share?”

She looked up at me, and held my gaze with those big brown eyes that dared a man to get lost within their depths. “No.”

I took a sip of wine. “We haven’t gotten a call from any of my staff. I guess that means the kids are fitting in well. Nobody has started a fire or anything like that.”

She smiled. I liked it when she smiled. “None of those kids are the fire starting type. They are more the sit down and listen, then bust their asses for some recognition type.”

“They sound like winners.”

“They are.”

“Well, cheers to them,” I said, and we lifted our glasses in a toast to my new interns.

As soon as I pressed my lips to the rim of the glass, my phone started ringing. I took my sip in a hurry, and pulled the phone out of my pocket, chuckling. “Uh-oh, maybe we spoke too soon.” But when I looked, the number wasn’t my office. It was Catherine. I glanced up at Laura. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

“It’s alright,” she said.

I lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey, Catherine. Sorry, but I can’t really talk right now. Can I call—”

I fell silent when she sniffled on the other end. “Max.”

“Catherine? What’s wrong?” I asked, inching to the edge of the bench seat. I could feel Laura’s eyes on me, but I didn’t dare look at her.

“I feel so—so—” she couldn’t finish her sentence before she broke down in sobs.

I knew what this was about without her having to say it. “Cat. It’s alright. Where are you?”

“At home. I couldn’t get out of bed to go to work. I had to call the cafe and ask for time off. I’m going to be stuck here in this God damn apartment again for months, I know it. I’m not ready to do that again, Max. I want my life back. I’m so sick of this shit!”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. “I know.”

“Why do I have to be the sick one?”

I sighed. “Have you eaten anything?”

“No. Not since last night.”

“I’m coming over. I’ll be there in half an hour and I’m bringing food. What do you want? And don’t say nothing, because I’m showing up with something and whatever that something is, you can bet your ass you’re going to eat it.”

Catherine sniffled, but said, “Soup. From that deli on Spruce Street.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Okay. Hurry. Please.”

“Promise.”

I hung up the phone and could no longer avoid meeting Laura’s gaze. When I did she was frowning.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” I said on instinct. Then I shook my head, and my shoulders dropped. “No, not alright at all. My sister isn’t feeling well. I’m sorry Laura, but I’m going to have to bail on you. So much for trying to take you out for a nice meal.”

As if on cue, the waiter appeared with our burgers.

Laura smiled up at him. “So sorry, but could you bring us some take out boxes?”

The server cocked his head to the side.

Laura rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, just like menus, you don’t have those here, either?”

Had I not been so concerned for my sister I would have laughed. But I was concerned.

Our waiter pressed his hands together. “I think I could throw something together for you.”

“Thank you. Please hurry,” Laura said.

He returned with our food in less than three minutes, and I dropped a wad of cash on the table. He thanked me profusely as I led Laura out of the restaurant. We emerged on the busy city sidewalk and my driver, who was down the street, inched out into traffic to get closer to pick us up.

“Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do?” Laura asked.

I shook my head. “No. Don’t worry about me. I have this under control. It—it happens more often than I’d like. I’ll have my driver take you back to the office. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be back today. If your kids have any questions for me ask them to write them down and I’ll talk to them all tomorrow.”

“They’ll be fine with their mentors. We’ve got it under control.”

“Thanks,” I said, craning my neck to watch as the driver made his way back to the curb. When he parked close to us, I walked Laura over and opened the back door for her. She got in and I stood with one hand on the door. “This lunch was supposed to make up for how I’ve been behaving the last week and a half.”

“Just a week and a half?” she asked. The corner of her mouth twitched and there was a twinkle in her eye.

“Yeah. Well. I had to start somewhere, didn’t I?”

She lifted up her to go box with her burger inside. “Consider everything in the past. You made it up to me. Now, go see Catherine. And hey, tell her I said hello.”

I nodded, “I sure will.” Then, stepping back I closed the door and tapped the roof to send her off.

With no time to linger to watch the car pull away, I focused my attention on hailing a cab—something I hadn’t done in years. Apparently I hadn’t lost my touch, because the first cab that swung by was free. He pulled over and I got in the back seat. I took a hundred dollars out of my pocket and slid it up to him. “If you can get me to Leo’s Deli on Spruce in ten minutes, another hundred is yours.”

“Yes sir.”

Lucky for me, Leo’s Deli wasn’t all that busy. I must have just missed the lunch rush. I ordered Catherine a bowl of her favorite soup—squash and ginger. I also grabbed her half a vegetarian sandwich with extra cream cheese, and a Christmas cookie.

My cab driver had waited outside for me. When I got back in I handed him the other hundred dollars, and then gave him Catherine’s address. The same rule applied. If he could get me there in fifteen minutes, another hundred bucks would be his.

I was there in nine.

After paying the driver I made my way across the lawn to Catherine’s apartment building. It was a decent place. Clean, well cared for, and three stories. There were only twenty five units in the place. Most were young families or older couples. That suited me fine. It was a safe building with no single young men poking around.

My sister was a serious catch. I didn’t want her blowing it on some random guy with nothing to offer her.

I knocked on her door within thirty five minutes of her calling me at La Bouche.

“It’s open,” I heard her call from inside.

Sighing, I took a deep breath to muster up the courage to go in. If this was what Catherine thought it was—her MS symptoms returning as they did every few months—it was going to be rough.

She’d never been ill over Christmas and that would make things even harder than they needed to be.

I pushed inside, then closed and locked the door behind me. “Where are you?”

“Bedroom,” she called back.

Her place was a bit of a mess, which I took as a bad sign. Normally it was immaculate, with sparking kitchen counters and perfectly placed stacks of books topped with candles or some sort of figurine that meant something to her. A lot of her decor was our mother’s.

The curtains were drawn in the living room. Another bad sign. When she didn’t feel well she hid from the sun. No matter how many times I’d tried to tell her she should be doing the opposite, she resisted, telling me I didn’t understand.

And I didn’t. So I didn’t fight her on it and let her keep the curtains closed.

On the way down the hall to her bedroom I noticed the mess in her bathroom. Makeup was strewn across the counter, the curtain was crooked, the towels all hanging haphazardly from the rack. The mat was folded and the floor was in need of a good sweeping.

So she hadn’t just woke up feeling bad. This had been going on for a few days at least.

Her bedroom door was open a crack, but I still knocked before stepping in. It creaked as I pushed it open and stood there in the doorway with the bag of food in one hand. “Hey,” I said.

Catherine was propped up against her headboard. She had her baby pink pajama set on. Her eyes were puffy from crying and the tip of her nose was very, very pink. “Hey.” As soon as the word left her lips she crumbled, squeezing her eyes closed as a sob escaped her, and then she buried her face in her hands as her shoulders shook and she cried. Hard.

Hurrying over, I set the bag of takeout by the edge of her bed. I sat down beside her, gathered her up in my arms, and held on as she cried her heart out. “I’m sorry, Cat. So fucking sorry you have to go through this again.”

She clung to me. “I know.”

“What can I do?”

“You’re doing it.”

I held her tighter and rested my chin on her head.

Damn this disease. Damn it and damn the cancer that killed my mother.

I was Max fucking Miller. I was the guy who could have and do whatever he wanted. I was powerful. I was made of money.

But there was no amount of money in the world that could spare my sister this pain. No amount of money that could have saved my mother from the cancer.

I was just as useless now with my billions as I’d always been. I was doomed to sit on the sidelines, watching those I loved suffer, while I did the only thing in my power to do—hold them.

If she told me to never let go, I wouldn’t. She was my baby sister. I was supposed to protect her. It was my job.

And I couldn’t do it.

Chapter 18

Laura

“I’m starving,” I growled, as I crouched down in front of the mini fridge in my office back at the foundation.

Ella was sitting on my sofa typing away on her laptop, but she looked up and said, “I could eat. What goodies are lurking in that magical fridge of yours today?”

I pushed a couple containers out of the way to get a look at everything. “We’re working with leftover mac and cheese, shortbread cookies, or half a cup of tomato soup. Pick your poison.”

“Is it weird if I say soup? I’m feeling something cozy.”

“Not at all. I wanted the mac and cheese anyway.”

“This is why we’re such a perfect pair.”

“You can say that again,” I said, taking the containers over to the microwave to heat them up.

As I warmed the food I stepped out of my boots and put them near the coat rack by my office door. Then I sat down on my ass on the floor and massaged my feet.

Ella arched an eyebrow. “What on earth are you doing?”

“My feet are killing me. I was walking around all afternoon and these boots are new. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to break them in today.”

“Rookie mistake. Now your feet are going to bother you all week.”

“Thanks for the ray of sunshine.”

“You’re welcome,” Ella said as she slapped her laptop closed. She’d been working at sending thank you emails to the attendees of the fundraiser. “All done. Only a couple more to send out tomorrow afternoon and then everything to do with that fundraiser is behind us.”

“Until next year.”

“Naturally. But let’s not think about that right now. We still need to come down and recover from this one.”

The microwave beeped, so I brought Ella her soup and curled up on the other end of the sofa to spoon piping hot cheese covered pasta into my mouth. As soon as I swallowed the first bite my stomach sang sweet hallelujahs.

Ella watched me eat with fascination. “Have you not eaten all day or something? Slow down, girl. You’re going to choke on your food.”

I shook my head. “I ate lunch, but that was just after noon and I didn’t have a chance to eat anything since.”

“It’s almost ten o’clock. You need to start keeping more snacks in your purse and your office.”

“I know. You keep telling me.”

“And you keep ignoring me.”

I shoveled more pasta into my mouth to avoid answering her.

Ella shook her head at me and slurped her soup off her plastic spoon. “So. Now that our work for the day is done, it’s time you spill the beans. How was the first day? How were the kids? Any hiccups?”

“No hiccups. Not one, actually. Kind of surprising.”

“Why surprising?”

“Max is good at messing things up.”

“Intentionally?”

I considered her question. “No. Not always. Sometimes he even tries to make up for said mess ups.”

Ella continued slurping her soup. “Elaborate.”

She always knew when I was keeping something to myself. I thought back to lunch that afternoon with Max—well, our attempt at having lunch together. It had been his way of trying to apologize for being an ass for the last couple weeks, and I appreciated it. At least he was able to recognize he’d screwed up and had the nerve and decency to be vulnerable about it.

That was something the old Max never would have done.

“He invited me out to lunch to make up for all the nonsense at the fundraiser. And for being late when I went to see him at his office. And for a bunch of other things, I suspect, but he never said so.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Some uptight high end place called La Bouche,” I cupped my bowl of mac and cheese between my knees so my hands were free to make jazz hands when I said the name.

Ella’s eyes widened. “La Bouche? Seriously? That place is supposed to be amazing. Of course, I’m only saying what I’ve read in reviews, but the best of the best eat there. Did you see any celebrities?”

“Um. No. I wasn’t really looking for them.”

“What? He took you to a place like that and you weren’t on the lookout for some famous hunks?”

“No. We had a private booth.”

“Of course you did,” Ella said. She stirred the last bit of her soup and finished it off. “Was it any good at least?”

“It was cold.”

“For what I’m guessing the prices are it certainly shouldn’t have been cold.”

I backtracked and explained why my food was cold, detailing what had happened after Max got a call from his younger sister Catherine. “She has MS. She’s had it for as long as I’ve known Max. And I know she has good months and bad. From the sounds of things, this might be the start of a few bad months ahead.”

Ella took our empty bowls to the sink and rinsed them out. “I feel for him.”

“Me too.”

“You never know what sort of battles a person is fighting, you know? Even though he has all this money and success, he’s really just like the rest of us.”

“Don’t say that in front of him.”

Ella wiped her hands on a towel hanging from a cupboard drawer handle in the kitchenette, then came back over and sat down on the sofa. She tucked one leg under herself and rested her elbow on the back of the sofa. “I wouldn’t. I don’t know him well enough.”

“His sister is probably the most important thing in the world to him. It used to really get him down when she was sick back when we were away at school. He would drop anything and everything for her.”

“But not for you?”

I could feel my eyebrows drawing inward. I pursed my lips as I thought about her question. “I don’t think I ever asked him to.”

Ella didn’t say anything. But I knew there were a thousand thoughts zinging through that wicked smart brain of hers. Thoughts I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Thoughts about me, and about Max, and about us working together again. About his sister. His money. His good looks.

“The kids had a great day,” I said, glad to have found something to latch onto to steer the conversation away from me and Max.

“Tell me everything.”

“Lewis and his mentor became fast friends. They even moved his computer from his assigned desk space to the other side of his mentor’s, so they could be closer together.”

“That’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve heard in weeks.”

I told Ella all about the kids and their first day at Nova Corp. The whole day had felt like I was living a fairy tale. It kept getting better and better with every turn. All the mentors were incredibly helpful and accommodating.

At the end of the day I’d pulled all the kids into a private room to ask them how things were going. I heard nothing but good things from all of them, and they were all looking forward to coming back bright and early tomorrow morning to learn more and see what they could accomplish.

“Do you think Max will want to make this a program, or do you think he’ll throw in the towel after this internship?” Ella asked.

I pulled the hair tie out of my hair and massaged my scalp. It ached all over from having my hair pulled up all day. “To be honest? I have no idea. I think there’s a pretty good chance he’ll keep it going. It became pretty obvious today that the main thing he cares about is that the work gets done and it gets done right. If you are a good member of the team he wants you there. And why wouldn’t he want to keep a good thing going like this?”

“I don’t know. It looks good for his company that’s for sure. But you’re the one who knows him. And you seem to think he’s a bit of an asshole.”

“Because he is an asshole.”

Ella giggled. “And do you think that will be a problem going forward?”

“Are we still talking about the kids?” I asked suspiciously.

Ella shrugged. “I don’t know. Are we?”

I once again found myself backed into a corner. She kept bringing the conversation back to him. Always to him.

And there was nothing I could do to avoid it. So I just blew past it and pretended it hadn’t happened.

I leaned forward and opened my purse which was sitting on the coffee table. I fished my phone out of one of the small interior pockets.

“Who are you calling?” Ella asked.

“I’m not calling anyone. I’m just going to send Max an email.”

Ella untucked her leg from under herself and stood up. “Alright. You do that. I’m going to run down the hall and grab my laptop then we’ll go home?”

“Sounds good,” I nodded. Ella left my office. I listened to her shoes tapping on the floor all the way down the hallway to her office as I sorted through my emails until I found the last one from Max and hit reply.

I stared at the blinking cursor for a moment. My mind was suddenly blank and I realized I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. I just knew I should say something.

Hey, I’ve been thinking about Catherine all day. Hope she’s alright. She’s a tough one.

I groaned and deleted all the words I’d just typed. To me that felt like crossing a line. I had been the one to drill it into his brain that things between us were going to stay strictly professional. So reaching out and being all soft about his sister might send the wrong message—even though it was the truth. Catherine was one tough cookie. Even though things might be hard for her right now she would come out the other side with her head held high.

But none of that was what I really wanted to say to him. I was worried about him, not her. He was the one who used to carry the burden of her MS on his shoulders —like it was his fault somehow that she was sick. It had plagued him back in college, and I hadn’t missed the way his body language changed when he got the call from her today. It was like I was suddenly sitting across from the twenty-two year old version of himself from my past. Frightened. Worried.

And a little angry.

I took another stab at the message and kept it nice and simple this time.

Hey Max. My burger from La Bouche was delicious, even though it was a little cold by the time I got around to eating it. Thanks for taking me to a place I can tell stories about for years to come. What kind of restaurant doesn’t have a menu? The kids all had a great day and can’t wait for tomorrow morning. I can’t come with them tomorrow, but I’ll be there on Wednesday. Let me know if you need anything. P.S. I’m thinking about your sister.

That message struck a better chord than the last. Humor was the best way to break awkward barriers. I hit send just as I heard Ella’s shoes clipping back down the hall toward my office.

Then I collected my things, shrugged my arms into my jacket, and met her outside my office door.

I was ready to go home. It had been a long day.

Chapter 19

Max

My legs fell as heavy as cement as I carried myself down the hall to my front door. I slid the key into the lock and pressed it open, rolling my shoulder around the edge of the door to close it with my back. I stood there, resting up against the door, and closed my eyes.

It was two in the morning. Maybe a bit past two. Exhaustion had sunk into my bones around midnight, but I hadn’t been able to leave Catherine. She was in no state to be left alone. So I stayed, made sure she ate her soup and sandwich, and sat on her bed with her while we watched Disney movies. It was her recipe for a bad day, and, if history was any indicator of how things were going to go, this was just the start to many bad days.

Which meant I had a lot more movies to look forward to. Again.

I rubbed at my eyes and pushed myself off the door. My penthouse was silent, and my heels on the floor echoed throughout the place, bouncing off the stark white walls and reverberating back to me as I went to the kitchen sink for a glass of water. I drank it in four greedy gulps and left the cup in the sink.

Bracing myself against the sink, I lifted my head to look out the window in front of me. I had a spectacular view of the city. It was spread out beneath my penthouse like a topographic map of shimmering lights.

Christmas lights.

From up here I could pretend there was nothing festive in the glittering display down below. They were just lights after all. I could tell myself they were beautiful, because in a way they were. And it would be a shame for someone to live all the way up here who didn’t appreciate them.

Pushing myself off the counter, I walked through my dining and living room, past the guest room, powder room, game room, gym, and sauna—finally reaching my bedroom. The dark gray walls made the room even darker than the rest of my place. I didn’t mind. I liked the dark. The lights of the city below didn’t reach this room and that was exactly how I liked it.

In my bathroom I brushed my teeth and took a hot shower. The heaviness in my limbs was eased by the hot water, and by the time I got into bed I felt a little more like myself.

I scrolled through the new emails on my phone as I lay in bed. Thirty seven since I’d left the office at lunch. Damn it to hell.

Ignoring them all in favor of responding tomorrow when I had my wits about me and was firing on all cylinders, I was surprised when I stumbled on one from Laura.

Hey Max. My burger from La Bouche was delicious, even though it was a little cold by the time I got around to eating it. Thanks for taking me to a place I can tell stories about for years to come. What kind of restaurant doesn’t have a menu? The kids all had a great day and can’t wait for tomorrow morning. I can’t come with them tomorrow, but I’ll be there on Wednesday. Let me know if you need anything. P.S. I’m thinking about your sister.

I read the message three times over and smiled like an idiot the whole time. I could effortlessly picture Laura sitting in the waiting room at Nova Corp, her cold Chef’s Burger in one hand as she undoubtedly responded to work emails or spoke with clients on the phone. She was a hustler, that was for sure, and like me, she wouldn’t let a single minute go to waste.

I was glad she liked the food. And that she chose to add something funny about our time at La Bouche. It had never even occurred to me that she was underdressed, or that she might find it odd that they didn’t have a menu. I’d been exposed to this lifestyle for so long that I’d almost forgotten what it was like.

To be without the sort of money I had.

To be normal.

Laura was normal. Maybe that was what drew me to her.

After reading her email for the fourth time I closed my emails and dialed into my voicemail. Keith had left me a message.

“Hey there Max. Just checking in. Hayden gave me the heads up that Catherine may be heading toward some hard days again. Just wanted you to know that he and I are here to help out, too. You don’t need to do everything on your own. You’re a busy guy and this time of year has always been crazy for you. This is what family is for. Give me a call when you get the chance. Oh, and before I forget, how do you feel about dropping the pumpkin pie as our dessert for Christmas dinner? I had a couple ideas of things I could make to change it up. Maybe I’ll let Catherine pick. That’ll lift her spirits. She likes chocolate, right? Maybe I could do a lava cake or something with some fruit and—”

His call cut out. Keith had always been a rambler and it was almost his trademark to forget that voicemails had a time limit.

I groaned. He’d left a second voicemail.

“Hey Max. Keith again. Sorry, got cut off on the last one. I was just saying I could make a chocolate lava cake. I think that would go well. If you have any other ideas let me know. There’s still plenty of time. It’s what? December tenth?” There was a long pause as he most likely checked his phone to confirm the date. “Yes. The tenth. Plenty of time. Anyway. Give me a call when you get this.”

Keith had most likely been in bed since ten thirty. I’d call him later. I put my phone on vibrate, plugged it into the charger on my nightstand and clasped my hands behind my head. I stared at my ceiling for a minute or two before the stillness seeped into my muscles and eased the tension through my mind and body. Closing my eyes, I took some deep breaths to try and let go of the stress of the day.

It was a far better process than having a drink to forget it all. Or six drinks.

The darkness behind my eyelids swallowed me up with indifference. I fell into it easier than I thought I would, and for the first time in ages, I dreamed.

I looked back and forth down the narrow dorm hallway. There were a couple kids lingering in the open door of a dorm room about six down from the door I stood in front of. They were deep in conversation about something nerdy that sounded like gibberish to me. Turning back to the door in front of me, I lifted a hand and knocked softly before pressing my ear to the door.

Silence.

“Laura?” I called softly, knocking again.

Silence still.

I tried the handle and found it unlocked. I’d have to give her shit for that. Her father had been on her case about locking her door, too, but she still never seemed to do it. I stepped into the tiny room before closing and locking the door behind me.

It was eight in the evening and Laura’s room was lit with soft yellow light from the string of white Christmas lights she had wrapped around her white wood headboard. A couple of them were burnt out, while others winked as if warning that they too were not long for this world.

The walls, a terrible peach color, were covered with posters and pictures—taped onto the painted bricks. The room smelled like coconut—it always smelled like coconut in here.

There were two beds in the room pushed up against opposite walls. One, the empty one on the right hand side, was covered in blue sheets, messy and unmade.

The other was Laura’s. She was lying on top of the powder pink quilt—face down. Her head was at the bottom of the bed and her cheek rested upon the page of her textbook. She must have fallen asleep while she was studying yet again.

I went to her, a smile on my face, and gently slid the book out from under her cheek. She moaned softly and rolled onto her side.

Laura’s blonde hair was a wild mess. It had been secured in a bun that I assumed had started on the top of her head. It had inched down to the nape of her neck where it hung loosely, and the shorter strands had completely slipped out. It was a bit frizzy and messed from where she’d slept on it or rubbed at her scalp in frustration while she studied. Pens and pencils littered the bed and it took me a good minute to collect them all and set them in the cup on her nightstand, which was already filled with pens. The girl had an addiction to all things stationery. On the bottom shelf of the nightstand was a stack of six notebooks, all with a different purpose, and all organized with colorful sticky tabs.

I sat down on the edge of the bed. It creaked beneath me, but she didn’t stir.

Reaching out, I pushed some of the loose hair off her cheek. Laura’s long dark eyelashes cast shadows over her cheeks. She was so beautiful. Her lips were slightly parted and her breath whistled softly between her teeth as she slept, and maybe dreamed.

Leaning over her, I kissed her bare shoulder. Laura was wearing a black spaghetti strap tank top and a pair of gray sweats. A loose cardigan had, presumably, been wrapped around her shoulders but had slid off to lay around her elbows and waist as she slept. Her skin was warm.

I kissed up her shoulder and across her collarbone before working my way up her slender neck. The skin there was silky soft. At her ear I whispered, “Hey baby.”

She stirred, and moaned, so I leaned into my kisses at her ear.

“Max?” Her whisper was thick with sleep and her eyes were still closed.

“Did you fall asleep studying again?”

She nodded.

I kissed along her jaw until I reached her lips. She tasted like cherries. She must have put on that lip balm I liked so much before she zonked out. She started to smile as my kisses became more insistent, and opened her mouth to my tongue.

Laura hooked an arm around my shoulders as I lay down beside her, propping myself up on one elbow as I ran my other hand up and over her hip, sliding it under her tank top. She flinched as I grazed that sensitive spot on her stomach by her right hip.

“Max,” she giggled softly, putting her hand flat on my chest. “I have to study.”

“You’ve been studying for hours.”

“I know. But I’m not done. And I need to do well on this exam. You’ve distracted me enough with your—”

“My what?” I asked, nipping at her lips and kissing the tip of her nose.

Her smile was radiant. “Everything. Your everything.”

I chuckled and rested my hand on her waist, still keeping it inside her shirt. “You’re sure you want me to stop? You know, I’ve heard that sex can help with information retention.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Huh. How convenient for you.”

“I’m just saying—maybe I could help with your studies.”

She threw her head back and giggled. I went back in for more kisses along her neck as she ran her hand along the back of my shoulders to sink her fingers in my hair. She tightened them into a fist and pulled my head back, stopping me from kissing her. “You are a bad boy, Max Miller.”

“But I’m your bad boy, baby.”

“Stop flirting with me.”

“Never.”

Laura inched her hand up from my chest to the collar of my shirt, which she curled her finger around and used to pull me even closer. With a crooked smile she said, “I suppose I could use a little bit of cardiovascular activity.”

I chuckled and she hooked a leg over mine. She rolled onto her back and I rolled on top of her. Up here, looking down, I had the best view a man could dream of. Big brown eyes. Plump lips. Freckles. A sleepy smile.

I cupped her cheek with one hand, stroking her soft skin with my thumb as I leaned down to press my lips to hers. She lifted herself up to me and the rest of the room and the world faded away.

It was just the two of us as she let her legs fall open and I began inching my way down the length of her body to take up my place between her thighs.

My eyes snapped open and I was staring at the white ceiling of my penthouse. And I was alone.

“Fuck,” I breathed, running my hand over my face. My stubble tickled my palm.

Dreams like that about Laura Wessex weren’t good for me. They were torture. A painful reminder of what I’d had—and lost—and who I could have been.

I hoped it was just a product of sheer exhaustion and my brain trying to find something positive to latch onto in this storm of Christmas bullshit and Catherine’s MS symptoms returning.

Chapter 20

Laura

The raised voices reached my ears as soon as I stepped off the elevator on the top floor of the office building. When I opened the doors to Nova Corp the voices were louder, but not heated. Casey wasn’t behind her desk, so I wandered down the hall, following the clamor of voices until I stopped in the doorway of the break room.

It appeared that almost the entire staff was in there, taking up three quarters of the room, and facing down Max who stood beside Casey. She had her arms crossed and was looking up at him, a goofy smile playing on her lips as he held his hands up.

“Alright, people. Alright. I hear you,” he said. “However, I’m the boss, and there is no way I’m walking into this place for the next two weeks to be assaulted by a Christmas tree decorated by the lot of you. Oh hell no.”

There were loud groans and complaints.

Casey shook her head at him. “You’re being a buzz kill and ruining the fun for everyone, Max. You are the only one who doesn’t want a tree. We didn’t put one up last year. This year I think it’s your turn to compromise.”

“No way,” he said, lifting his nose in the air.

My kids were already there, huddled together near the front of the group of employees, looking back and forth at each other and whispering among themselves. They’d never seen a workplace where the holidays were openly celebrated and Christmas spirit was in the air. Having a tree would be a good idea for them.

“You seriously don’t care that literally every single one of us wants the tree?” Casey asked, crossing her arms over his chest.

Max shrugged. “Not really. Besides. Not every single one of you wants a tree. Dave there is a neutral party. Aren’t you Dave?”

I couldn’t see the man who spoke from the crowd, but he called out, “The people have spoken, Max. Sorry buddy.”

Casey clapped her hands together. “See! It’s just you. Don’t be such a Scrooge. Let us get a tree so we can all decorate it together this afternoon. We can get Christmas goodies and play music and—”

“Now you’re really getting ahead of yourself,” Max said, shaking his head. He rolled up the sleeves of his white button up shirt and then slid his hands in the pockets of his pants before rocking back on his heels. “How about instead of a tree I let you all go home at four today?”

“Boo,” the employees chanted at once.

I giggled.

Max turned, spotted me, and tried to conceal his grin. “Morning, Laura.”

“Good morning,” I said.

Casey walked around Max and came over to me. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the break room. My kids waved at me and I waved back. She grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face Max directly. “Please tell our stubborn boss that he’s ruining Christmas. All we want is a tree. Is that too much to ask?”

Max still had his hands in his pockets and was giving me a smug, give-it-your-best-shot look. I stroked my chin, playing up the drama, and when an idea struck me I lifted a single finger. “I think we all have an opportunity to make some compromises here. I propose a plan that works for everyone.”

The employees were silent and Casey was nodding along to what I was saying. Max, however, was looking more and more bemused by the second. “There will be no Christmas tree in my office, Miss Wessex.”

I held up a hand. “Now hold on a minute. What if the tree was set up in the office space—where you rarely have to go, and where everyone else who really wants the tree can see it every day? How about tucking it into a corner by the window, so even when you do have to enter, it’s off to the side. And, lastly, how about you stop parading around in an attempt to ruin our Christmas spirit?”

Max rolled his eyes. “Oh, come off it, Laura.”

“No,” I said. “I will not. I think that’s a perfectly reasonable solution, and everyone gets what they want.”

“Except me, the owner of the damn company,” Max said.

“Hey, it’s not our fault you’re a grouch.”

Max scratched the back of his neck.

“Come on, Max. The kids would love it. They never had a workplace cool enough to put up a tree. Right guys?” I turned to my kids, who all nodded eagerly. I looked back at Max. “Come on. We’ll go pick one out together. Whichever one you like. Big or small. Green or not green. They’ll take what they can get, right everyone?”

The employees all nodded.

Max threw his hands up in the air. “Okay fine. Fine. We’ll get a damn tree. But next year we’re doing it my way, you hear me? Casey, go write that down on one of those calendars of yours. No tree for Christmas next year.”

“Got it,” Casey sighed, before slipping past me to go do as he asked.

I beamed at him. “Well, shall we go? The sooner we leave the better chance we have to beat the rush.”

“Where the hell are we going to get a tree anywhere nearby?” He asked, looking exasperated.

I tipped my head to the doorway leading out into the hall. “I’ll show you. Come on. I know a place.”

Max complained the whole time we walked down the street to the closest pop up tree shop I could think of. It was the same place I’d bought my office tree from a couple years ago, and I’d even purchased several for my fundraiser last year, putting them all throughout the banquet room going for a more traditional Christmas look than what I’d done this year with the snowflakes and icy color scheme.

The pop up shop was located in a parking lot behind a six story office building. Lights were strung up in a zig zag pattern overhead, and the owner had even decorated a few trees. They were quite eye catching with glittery ornaments and winking multicolored lights.

Max and I slipped through the entrance and were offered a cup of hot chocolate or cider. Like the children we were, we both opted for the hot chocolate.

On days like this I wished the weather in LA was colder. The sun was out and shining. It wasn’t warm enough for a t-shirt and jeans, but it wasn’t cold enough for a jacket heavier than the black leather blazer-cut jacket I had on today, either. It would be so much more festive to live in a city with a bit of snow on the ground, where it could cling to the branches of the trees and really play up the magic of the season. I imagined everyone bundled up wearing thick wool scarves, mittens and snow boots.

As we sipped our hot chocolate, Max and I walked up and down the rows of trees. They came in all shapes and sizes, and in varying condition. Max gravitated to the sad looking ones with weeping branches and missing needles. This didn’t surprise me in the least, and I’d known it was going to be like pulling teeth. I’d known it before I even suggested we pick out a tree together.

But I also knew I stood the best chance of talking him into getting one that didn’t look like it was going to turn completely brown before Christmas Eve.

“How about this one?” I asked, stopping beside a full dark Evergreen. The branches were equally spaced, creating a round circumference. The needles were dense and the dark green color was rich. “It would look beautiful in the office. And I think it would make everyone really happy.”

“It’s just a tree,” Max said flatly. “And a chopped down tree at that.”

“Yes. Right now it is. But by the end of the day it will be a Christmas tree. And that is something else entirely.”

“Yeah, the same tree dressed up to look like something it’s not.”

I sighed, “Well, I think you need to accept that you’re the problem here, Max. Not your employees. They all want this, and contrary to what you might think, most people actually enjoy the holidays, even if it is one of the most stressful times of the year.”

“It’s bizarre.”

“No. It’s important. Spreading cheer. Taking care of each other. Sharing good food and doing things together, like decorating a tree.”

Max rolled his shoulders. “I don’t like this one.”

“Ugh, this is like shopping with a twelve year old boy,” I muttered as I carried on, marching down the row to look at more trees.

Max followed, sipping his hot chocolate, and grumbling about how this whole thing was stupid.

“If you would just let me get the tree I know everyone would like, we could be on our way back to the office,” I said.

“What about this one?” Max asked, stopping beside a crooked tree that was missing needles on one side. “It’s perfect. A misfit. It’ll fit right in.”

I frowned.

“What? Now you’re going to be the difficult one?”

“It’s missing needles,” I said. “And a bunch of them are turning brown. It’s ugly.”

Max gasped. “You can’t say that. Right now it’s just a tree. But once we’re done with it, girl it’ll be a gorgeous Christmas tree. Magic!” Clearly, he was enjoying the chance to mock me.

I chewed the inside of my cheek to stop myself from calling him names.

Max turned the tree, showing me the needleless brown side. “We could have this side facing the window.”

“No!”

Max snorted. “Fine. Let’s get your dumb big green one then. I just want to get the hell out of here. Oh God, look—kids are showing up. This is a nightmare.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

“What are you laughing at?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just—wow. Your life must be super comfortable up in that penthouse of yours, especially if you think that kids buying a Christmas tree on December twelfth qualifies as a nightmare. Max, this is a wonderful tradition,” I said, spinning in a circle to take it all in. “I used to come buy a tree like this every year with my mom and dad. And we’d make a day of it. We’d all get up and my mom would make a big pancake breakfast. Then we’d go pick a tree and bring it home. Dad would set it up, making sure it was straight and safe, and right where we wanted it. Meanwhile, Mom would cut up cheese and meat, and add crackers and fruit. We’d eat snacks and decorate the tree. Then we’d watch a movie. I just—I don’t know, Max. I wish you had something like that so you could see what you’re missing.”

Max drew his shoulders inward and looked at his feet. I thought for a second he might offer some sort of retort, but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

He shook his head. “It’s alright. And I did have something like that. My Mom was a Christmas fanatic, remember?”

I swirled the last few mouthfuls of hot chocolate around in my cup, mixing in the syrup that had settled near the bottom. Speaking softly, I asked him the question that I thought must be at the root of the problem. “Why do you hate Christmas so much?”

Chapter 21

Max

A dozen thoughts ran through my mind when Laura asked me why I hated Christmas so much.

The honest answer?

I hated Christmas because it reminded me of how hollow and empty I was. Everyone else on the planet seemed to be radiating Christmas cheer out of every orifice, but I hadn’t felt even a sliver of that sort of joy since I was ten years old and my father walked out on my family.

He’d left at four in the morning when Catherine and I were both asleep. My mother, bless her soul, had tried to make him stay, even just for the holidays, but he refused. He’d never wanted this life and felt trapped by us. By the people who loved him.

So very early on the morning of December eighteenth, he just left. Never to return.

My mother still made Christmas happen just as it had every year. Somehow she managed to pull it off. She decorated the house, got gifts and wrapped them, and cooked dinner all on her own, hosting the big family meal. Leaving all of them none the wiser, with no clue that her husband had left her just a week earlier. She told them all he’d had to leave for a business trip—one that would pay really well since it was Christmas and all. She said it was a necessary sacrifice he had made for our family.

At the time I’d been too young to recognize my mother’s strength. But now I knew just how impressive it was. Catherine and I even talked about it sometimes.

Like a fierce mother bear protecting her cubs, she did everything in her power to keep Christmas in our lives. She wanted us to be kids and see Christmas as something good, not forever tainted by our father’s decision to abandon us. It stayed that way for Catherine until she was about twelve, four years after my dad left. She stopped believing in Santa by then, but somehow kept the magic of Christmas alive as she helped my mother, filling in my father’s role of mashing potatoes and stuffing the turkey.

Not me—I never found that fondness for the holiday again. It left with my father on that early December morning.

How was I supposed to put that into words for Laura without making her feel bad for me? The last thing I wanted was pity—especially from her.

So I shrugged and told a well-worn lie. “It’s just all the consumerism. That’s all this holiday is. An excuse to blow your hard earned money on shit that’s going to end up in the garbage or in a donation bin in less than three months anyway. Or crammed in the back of a closet and never looked at again.”

Laura put a hand on her hip. “A billionaire who hates consumerism? Now I’ve seen it all.”

“Touché.”

She shook her head at me. “I don’t know, Max. I think you make it harder on yourself. Sure, Christmas is saturated with overspending and a lot of people miss the point, but that’s no reason to throw in the towel and not participate at all.”

“Sure it is.”

“Poor Catherine,” Laura muttered.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

I scratched my jaw, wanting to ask her what she meant by that. Poor Catherine what? But I didn’t want to be the one to close that gap.

Laura ran her fingers over the tips of the tree branches as she continued walking down the row of trees. She pointed out a few, but I could tell she wasn’t as sold on them as she was with the first one she’d pointed out to me.

And clearly, I wasn’t going to be bringing a ‘Charlie Brown’ tree back to the office. She wanted one that was perfect.

I caught up with her and grabbed her wrist. “Let’s just go back and get the first one you saw before someone else walks out of here with it and you’re mad at me all day.”

“I thought you didn’t like that one.”

“I don’t care what tree we get. I was just being—”

“An ass?”

I nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

Laura chewed the inside of her bottom lip as she looked up at me. “Alright.”

We made our way back to her original pick. A young family was lingering around it, and Laura hung back, saying we should wait to see if the family wanted it. “They can have it if they want. We walked away from it.”

I shook my head. “Nonsense. You want this one, so this is the one you’ll get.”

She tried to grab my sleeve as I walked away from her and over to the tree. The family, a mother and father with two young daughters, watched me go to it. I looked at the parents. “Were you going to take this one?”

The father shook his head, “We were just looking at it.”

His wife looked over at him, her eyes narrowing.

I chuckled. “Well, I think you were ‘just looking’ a little too long. She had her heart set on this bad boy.”

His wife shook her head. “It’s fine. You can take it.”

I nodded at her. “Thank you. There’s another nice one just like this down there, but it’s a bit too tall for the space I have. Go take a look. Sixth one on the right around the corner, I believe.”

“Thank you,” the father said before leading his family off down the row.

Laura came over to me, clicking her tongue. “We did not see a tree that looked like this over there.”

“I know that, but they don’t. And now we can leave with the tree you wanted. Come on.”

“That is literally the polar opposite of the Christmas spirit,” Laura grumbled, as I flagged down one of the employees, who hurried over. I handed him a hundred dollar bill and told him to keep the change. He looked more than a little surprised but pocketed the bill and offered to help get it out to our car. I shook my head at him. “No car. Lucky me. I get to carry it all the way back to my office.”

“I’m going to help you,” Laura said.

I shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

The employee pulled a roll of twine out of his pocket and used it to tie up the tree branches. This made it a much easier package to maneuver. I took the heavy end, gripping the stump, and Laura took the tip. We walked back to the office carrying it between us.

There was pitch on my fingers already and we’d only just begun.

We made it almost three blocks before Laura’s end of the tree started dipping down toward the sidewalk. I guided us away from the street and over to a set of wide stairs leading up to an old bank. Laura didn’t protest when I put my end of the tree down. Her arms were probably hurting and I couldn’t blame her. She’d picked the fullest, thickest, and undoubtedly the heaviest tree of the bunch. She’d always had high standards.

Laura wiped her hands on her pants, then planted her fists on her hips. “I’m sure we can get it back all in one more shot.”

“I’m not sure how we’re going to handle the elevator.”

Laura blinked. “I hadn’t stopped to think about that.”

“That’s alright. You were distracted by this tree—blinded by the prospect of this mundane evergreen transforming before our very eyes into something utterly magical.”

“Don’t patronize me, Max.”

“I’m not. I’m just—”

“Being a jerk?”

Laura sat down on one of the steps and rested her elbows on her knees. I walked around the tree and took up the space on the seat beside her. “You do realize I don’t have any ornaments back at the office, right?”

Laura picked at a loose thread on the knee of her jeans. “Don’t worry. I took care of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“There will be ornaments there when we get back.”

I leaned back, resting my elbows on the step above. My hands dangled and I stretched my legs out to the steps below. “You sent some of my staff, didn’t you?”

Laura giggled. “I may have texted Casey when we were on our way over and told her to send a team out to buy some decorations for the office.”

“And who, pray tell, is covering those expenses?”

“The guy with the fattest wallet,” she said flatly.

I shrugged a shoulder. “Fine. Bully me into getting your way, yet again. I’m kinda getting used to it.”

“Don’t be such a diva.”

“Diva? Me?” I asked, pressing a hand to my chest. “I’m easy to please.”

“Yeah. And I’m Oprah Winfrey.”

I laughed. “Oprah? That’s who you’re going with?”

“It was the first name that popped into my head.”

“Right,” I said, my voice colored with a tone of disbelief.

Laura punched me playfully in the shoulder. “Forget it. You and I just like different things. We know that about each other. I just think your biggest take away from today should be that you put the needs of others in front of your own. And what I mean is that you sacrificed your contentment by letting them have a tree. It was good of you, despite how much persuading it took.”

“More like bullying, actually. But I do my best to serve the good people of Nova Corp.”

“If I hadn’t intervened, you would have bulldozed over them.”

Since I couldn’t deny that, I wisely chose to keep my mouth shut.

Laura sighed and reached over to place her hand on my forearm. “All I’m saying is I’m proud of you for at least going along with this. It will make a lot of people really happy. And hey, that’s what Christmas is all about, right?”

Her big brown eyes flicked back and forth between mine as her lips, so full and pink and inviting, curled into a warm smile. Her cheeks were flushed from carrying the tree, but not so flushed that I couldn’t see the dusting of freckles across her nose.

“Laura,” I said softly.

“Yes, Max?”

“If you want me to stop you have to say so.”

“What?” she asked, puzzled. Her nose scrunched up in that cute way it used to when she was confused.

I moved slowly to give her time to tell me off, which I knew she might do. She stared at me as I reached behind her head and cupped the back of her neck. I leaned in and drew her to me. She didn’t resist. She sat there, paralyzed, her lips slightly parted in confusion as I closed the gap between us.

Soon, I was close enough to smell her. Citrus, candy apple and something spicy. When I was a mere inch away I turned my head to the side. Her gaze slid down to my lips, and then, as if giving me permission, she closed her eyes.

So I kissed her.

Her lips were as soft as I remembered. Like rose petals after rain. She tasted like chocolate and mint.

Laura sucked in a sharp breath as I pressed my tongue between her teeth. Then she let out a little moan, took the front of my shirt in one hand, and held me to her as her own tongue plunged into my mouth with desperate curiosity.

Chapter 22

Laura

How did this happen?

We were only supposed to be Christmas tree shopping. Not sucking face on the front steps of a random bank.

But here I was. In his arms. Giving in.

His hand on the back of my neck was firm yet gentle, and the way he cradled me to him wasn’t the same way he used to hold me when we were younger. This was a stronger touch. A more confident, self-assured touch.

I liked it.

God, did I like it. A lot.

The fact that I knew I shouldn’t like it so much was making it feel even more exciting. I was breaking the rules—even if they were of my own making. I’d sworn off of Max Miller a long time ago. And I’d sworn to myself that if I ever came in contact with him again I’d kick his ass to the curb and make sure he knew just how done with him I really was.

And yet.

His lips were on mine and his tongue was in my mouth. He tasted like chocolate and all I could smell was the evergreen scent of the tree on the step beside me. A cozy warmth spread through my body, starting in my stomach and slowly working its way outward until it enveloped my skin, which began to tingle.

Push him away.

I didn’t dare. All this time and I had thought—no, truly believed—that I was over him. I thought he was nothing but a big black mark in my past. A lesson learned and a guiding reference for the type of guy not to date. The type of guy who should never be sticking his tongue down my throat in the middle of the day on a crowded street. With a Christmas tree.

And yet.

My hands were still gripping the front of his shirt. I didn’t let go, even when he ran a hand up my thigh to rest it on my hip. If we were somewhere less public I wondered where this would have gone. Would I still have my pants on?

Knowing Max, that was unlikely.

His tongue slid along mine and he pinched my bottom lip gently between his teeth. I giggled into our kiss and he moved his hand from behind my neck to my cheek, which he grazed with his thumb. The sensation had me feeling all kinds of nostalgia. This is exactly what he used to do when we were together. It had done me in then. Just as it was doing me in now.

It was a trap. A bad idea then, and a bad idea now. Worse even. He was trouble with a capital ‘T’ and tricking myself into thinking he was a brand new man was foolish. Idiotic, even.

And yet.

It felt so damn good.

I finally managed to break away from the kiss and looked down at my lap. I didn’t dare look up, afraid that if I looked him in the eye, I’d never be able to stop myself and I’d find myself kissing him again. There was something so comforting in the familiar. And I hadn’t been kissed like that in a long, long time.

My hands were shaking as I drew them back and clasped them together. My cheeks began to burn and I could feel his eyes on me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

“It’s alright,” I whispered.

“Is it?” He asked. “Really?”

Finally, I looked up and met his gaze. His head was slightly tipped to one side as he regarded me. His expression was one of concern. His eyebrows were drawn together, pushing creases into his forehead. I nodded and tried to give him my most convincing smile. “It is. I wouldn’t lie. I was just—a little surprised is all.”

“So was I,” he admitted.

I wrung my hands together and took a breath, noticing that his breathing was as ragged and unsteady as mine. Like we’d been running a race with no finish line. “We should get the tree back to the office. Everyone will be waiting for us.”

“Right.” He sounded disappointed. I wondered if that was because we had to go back, or because we had to decorate the tree. Was he miffed about having to partake in a Christmas activity or because he wanted to stay here longer?

Could I blame him? I wanted to stay a little longer, too.

What the hell was happening to me? How had one stupid kiss turned everything upside down?

He was still the most aggravating man I had ever met. Still the most infuriating, egotistical, and self-serving jackass I knew. But he was also clever. Charming. Amusing. He was spontaneous and fun in a way I’d always wished I could be. He was daring and dashing, and filled with a passion and fire. I liked all those things about him. Those were the things that had made me fall for his annoying ass in the first place. They were the things I’d worked so hard to forget as I’d worked to get over him.

Max rolled to his feet and offered me his hand. He pulled me up beside him and I dusted off my rear end where tiny pieces of sidewalk dust clung to my pants. Then I bent over, picked up the top of the tree, and waited as Max hoisted the heavy end. He gave me a flash of his white smile. “Ready to go slap some ornaments on this bitch?”

I laughed out loud and we descended the stairs and made our way back toward the office. My thoughts bounced around in my head like tumbleweeds on the wind. My first impulse was to call Ella and tell her what happened—that Max had kissed me and, despite the alarm bells going off in my head, I’d enjoyed it very much and hadn’t wanted to stop.

Would she judge me? Would she think I was making a mistake and be that voice of reason to talk me back down to sanity? Or, would she tell me that maybe Max was my Romeo after all?

I wasn’t prepared for either scenario.

As we carried the tree through the lobby of the office building we received smiles and waves from other business folk in the building, a few even calling out ‘Merry Christmas.’ With a lot of pushing and prodding, Max somehow managed to get the tree on the elevator without breaking any branches off, but there was little room for me. Finally, not wanting to make a scene, I squeezed in, not realizing I’d be pressed up against him on the left wall while the bulk of the tree filled up every inch of the space.

The doors finally closed, sealing us away from prying eyes, and we began our ascent.

“Max,” I said, turning to face him. We were so close that my knee brushed his when I turned. I tried to back up a bit but had nowhere to go and was forced to tip my head back to look at him. Naturally, when our eyes locked I forgot what I was going to say. “Erm.”

“Erm? What is erm?”

Heat crawled up my neck and burned my ears. “Never mind.”

Max peered up at the ever-changing illuminated number above the elevator doors.

4... 5... 6... 7...

So many more floors to go. So much time with just the two of us in such tight quarters.

He shook his head and looked back down, a grin tugging at his mouth and his gaze grew so intense I was lost in his eyes.

“Do—do you want to kiss me—again?” I asked. My voice didn’t sound like my own, and the words seemed to hang between us for a moment too long as he stared at me.

Max closed the tiny space remaining between us by wrapping an arm around my waist and tugging me to him. I was pressed flat against him and had to part my legs for his knee, which slid between my thighs as he kissed me again. Harder this time.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and clung to him as the kiss deepened. The smell of evergreen was even stronger now that we were in such a confined space, and the Christmas music playing on the elevator was a familiar jingle of bells and harps. Max’s hands roamed up my back and into my hair, then down again. I moaned into his mouth, leaning into him.

Suddenly, a softer bell chimed to announce that the doors were about to open. We pushed away from each other—a ridiculous move considering our close proximity. I wiped my mouth off and looked at the ground as the doors slid apart. Luckily, nobody was standing on the other side.

We fought and shimmied ourselves and the tree out the doors and finally each picked up an end one final time to carry it inside. Casey saw us coming and got up from her desk. She held the office doors open for us and beamed at me as we squeezed through the door frame. “You picked a good one! It’s huge. Nice and green, and so full. Why on earth didn’t you use the freight elevator, Max? You must have been squished and barely able to breathe in there.”

What freight elevator? One glance at the guilty look he bore had my face turning all shades of red, and I silently vowed to seek revenge over such an obvious sin of omission for ill-gotten gains.

All the while, Casey was still rattling on about what a tussle we must have had getting it in there. My ears abruptly tuned in at the mention of cameras.

“What?” I asked, horrified.

“Oh, I was just saying how fun it would be to watch the elevator security camera, to see you two trying to get this thing inside that elevator car, not to mention squeeze in yourselves.”

Little black dots swam in my vision and I wondered if it was possible to die of mortification. I stuttered and stammered, trying to say something, anything, while Max stood there looking bemused.

With a wink and a giggle, Casey mercifully moved on. “Oh, wait ‘til you see. We got ornaments for the tree of course, but we also got—you’ll never guess—candy canes!”

She fell into step behind us as we carried the evergreen down the hall. “My mom and dad used to always put them on our tree when I was growing up, and my brothers and I would always fight over them. Thought it might be fun to keep some on the tree.”

“Great idea,” I said, thankful for the change of subject.

Employees lingering in the break room and kitchen saw us moving the tree and followed us out into the hall and into the main office. Everyone who was working in there looked up and smiled as Max took over and propped it up against the wall. He gestured at it. “There you have it, folks. Nova Corp’s first Christmas tree. Knock yourselves out.”

It took a good half hour to get the tree where we wanted it and stabilized on a base. The trunk was pretty big, not to mention heavy, and we had to use a bigger planter than I was expecting. But we finally pulled it off, and once it was balanced out the twine was cut to release the branches. Everyone finally got a good look at just how magnificent the tree was, and many people came over to me and thanked me for making it happen.

Max stood idly by, arms crossed over his chest, brooding.

It was hot as hell.

I distracted myself from steamy thoughts about Max Miller’s lips and strong hands by finding a knife to cut open the ornament boxes. Casey had purchased a great variety of decorations that were going to look beautiful on the tree—little Santa’s with glittery hats, silver, red and gold sparkly orbs, white icicles, snowmen, and some in classic Christmas movie themes.

As I brought out all the ornaments, two young women set about wrapping the tree in colorful winking lights. Max, still looking sour as hell, rolled his eyes when they plugged them in and discovered the middle strand didn’t light, which in turn meant the three strands following that one didn’t work. Max grumbled something about that’s why you plugged each strand in before you put them on the tree.

Naturally, he took over.

He caught me watching him wrap the tree. Our eyes locked, and I smiled. He did, too. It was the first time I’d seen him smile while doing something festive, and it suited him. I’d have to tell him sometime. Not that he would understand or appreciate it. He would probably think it was a weakness.

Silly man.

When the tree was aglow in lights, the rest of the staff still nearby selected ornaments and began placing them on the tree. I chose one of the Santa’s and put it in a spot hanging off a branch so it looked like he was sitting on a lower one. One of the red lights lit him up beautifully, and I stood back to admire our work.

Soon, all the ornaments were in place. The tree was full and twinkling, and the shiny ornaments gave the illusion of magic.

The lights in the office suddenly went off, and the oohs and aahs began, and even those who had wandered off to their desks came back to join the group. When I turned to see what Max thought of it, I realized that the light switch was on the wall right behind him. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and a big smile on his face.

But it wasn’t the tree he was looking at.

He was looking at me.

Chapter 23

Max

The office was dark. It was well past eight o’clock and the only lights on in the place were those in my office, and the Christmas tree in the other room. Laura’s well-crafted plan to put the tree where I couldn’t see it hadn’t quite gone as planned. Ideally, I wasn’t supposed to be able to see it. That had been the deal. But, when I sat at my desk, I could see through the cut out in the wall through the waiting room and into the office. I couldn’t see the tree, but I could see the reflection in the far window, and with how dark it was at this time of night it might as well have been the real thing.

The lights were distracting. Not because they were Christmas lights, but because they reminded me of Laura. Of how she’d smelled when I kissed her. How she’d let out that surprised little moan, but leaned into me as soon as our lips touched. How she’d clung to the front of my shirt with a desperation that rivaled my own.

I shook my head.

I still had work to do. Emails to send. I’d fallen a bit behind with my workload for the day after spending a good chunk of it looking at trees and making out with Laura on those steps in front of the bank and on that steamy ride in the elevator. I’d also squandered time away watching my team decorate the tree. Even though I didn’t think it was something I’d want to do, walking away hadn’t been an option. They were all in their element as they looped tiny metal hooks through their ornaments to place them on the branches. Men and women of all ages were as delighted as the young interns.

But Laura had been my favorite person to watch. She chose the placement of each ornament she hung with deliberate consideration. First, she would find a spot with a light available to illuminate the ornament she chose. Then she would bend the hook just right to make sure it faced the way she wanted, and only then would she hang it and make the necessary adjustments to get it just right. I could only imagine how long it would take for her to decorate a tree all on her own.

I thought of the Christmas traditions with her parents that she’d told me about. How they went out and got their tree and spent the evening watching Christmas movies, snacking, and decorating the tree. It must have taken hours.

How could people want to spend so much time affixing little glass orbs to the branch of a dying tree? It confounded me. There were so many other things I would rather do with my time.

Like get my damn work done so I didn’t have to stay after hours.

But Laura saw this whole time of year differently. She always had. She used to ask me if I could feel it. And by it she meant the magic of Christmas. I never knew what she meant by that. I still didn’t. There was no magic to it. To me it just seemed like a bunch of overspending, overeating and overdoing. Everything was to the extreme. Grand gestures were nothing but markers to beat next year.

And everyone fell for it. Hook, line and sinker. It was foolishness. No matter how I looked at it I just couldn’t justify the excessiveness—and I wasn’t a man of minimalism by any means, either. I indulged. I made big money and spent big money. But not because a holiday demanded it.

Yet clearly Laura loved every bit of the hoopla. She lived for it. She loved the lights and the trees and the decorations. She loved the baking and the food and the hustle and bustle that took over the city from Thanksgiving to the New Year. She loved the fake snow in window displays, the Santa Claus setups in the malls, and the gift wrapping stations. She loved the music and the stress and the Christmas wishes everyone shared.

Somehow I had to stop thinking about her or these emails were never going to get finished. I buckled down and forced myself to click through all I had left and respond to them one by one before sending off reminders for Casey to check in the morning. I had several meetings that would need to be scheduled for the upcoming weeks.

When I was done I turned off my computer and stretched my arms over my head. As I indulged in a yawn and closed my eyes there was a soft knock on my door.

I opened my eyes as the glass door opened.

Laura was standing there. She was still in her jeans and loose white sweater from earlier, but she’d taken her boots off and was just wearing a pair of gray socks. She crossed one foot in front of the other as if self-conscious that I’d noticed her lack of footwear. “Hey. Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah. I thought everyone had gone home.”

“Everyone but me,” she said. Then she tipped her head out down the hall. “Come on. I want to show you what I’ve been working on.”

My chair creaked as I stood up. Laura stepped aside when I came out into the hall, but then took the lead. I followed her down the hall into the office space, dark except for the continuous winking lights of the tree.

Laura walked over to a plug on the floor by a socket near the tree. “Ready?”

“For what?” I asked, dubiously.

Laura smiled. Then she crouched down and plugged it in.

The whole office was lit up by lights strung around the windows. Tinsel and garland were draped across the ceiling, and, hanging around here and there were even sprigs of mistletoe.

“Is this what you’ve been doing since everyone left at five?” I asked.

Laura looked around at the office. Her smile was all pride, but also contained a bit of embarrassment. “Yes. Is that bad?”

“It’s confusing.”

She laughed. “I think it looks good.”

“It’s not half bad,” I admitted.

“Really? I’m shocked you haven’t demanded I take it all down and throw it out.”

“I wouldn’t make you do that.”

“So that wasn’t your first impulse?”

I studied her. “Surprisingly, no. Had someone else put it up, it very well could have been. In fact, I probably would have called the janitors and doubled their wages tonight to take it all down.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I said, if someone else had done it,” I winked.

Laura grinned. “Do you think everyone will be surprised?”

“Sure they will. It looks like Christmas threw up in here.”

“Some people like the look, you know.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Laura walked out into the middle of the office so she had a view of all her hard work. I followed her and turned in a slow circle, soaking in the twinkling lights and the winking glitter on the garland. It was almost—magical.

I shook the thought out of my head as soon as it crossed my mind.

“Max?”

“Yes?” I asked, turning to her.

Laura was standing beneath a sprig of mistletoe. It dangled three feet above her head, hanging from a glittery gold strand of curly twine. A couple of holly leaves were also attached.

She reached out her hand to me. “Come here.”

I took her hand and she gently pulled me to her so I was standing beside her under the mistletoe. In the soft glow of the Christmas lights all around us Laura looked like a fairytale come to life. Her skin was as bright and flushed as the fake Santa ornaments on the tree. Her hair appeared to be made of spun gold, and strands of it were stuck to her shimmering lip gloss. She smelled like cinnamon and mulled wine, and I didn’t hold back from inhaling deeply; breathing her in.

“Why did you do all this?” I asked.

She cocked her head slightly to the side. “The decorating?”

I nodded.

“It’s simple, really. I like to make people happy. And something as simple as lights and some garland can do that, especially in an office setting.”

“But why?” She wasn’t understanding what I was asking. Maybe I wasn’t asking it the right way. I couldn’t understand her motivation. It seemed so—selfless. What did she get out of it?

“Are you asking me why I like making people happy?”

“I think I am.”

She shrugged. “Because it makes me feel good. It makes me feel like I’m contributing. Having a positive impact on someone else’s day or week is a good feeling. And it stays with me for a while. Besides, I wanted to be able to do this at least once this year.”

“You mean decorate?” I asked quizzically.

Laura looked around the office. The red, green, yellow, blue and orange lights reflected in her eyes. “Yes. Usually I do this with my mom and dad every year. We do the tree and decorate the house. And you know, watch Christmas movies. But I’m missing it this year.”

“Why?”

“They’re travelling,” she said, finally looking up at me. Her eyes seemed much bigger than normal. “They went on a world cruise. It will be the first time I spend the holidays without them. Turns out it’s been—harder than I expected it to be.”

“Does this mean you’re spending Christmas alone?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ll be spending Christmas day and evening with Ella and her family. They were kind enough to include me when they found out my parents would be away.”

I was relieved to hear that. Laura couldn’t spend her favorite time of year by herself. That would have been a cruel punishment she didn’t deserve. As I looked at her I found myself wishing I could spend Christmas with her, too.

“Max?” She whispered my name and I loved how it sounded rolling off her tongue. Sweet. Almost seductive.

“Yes?”

“Did we make a mistake?”

“A mistake?”

She nodded. “Earlier. On the steps. And then again in the elevator, which we’ll be discussing later, by the way.”

“It didn’t feel like a mistake at the time.”

“And now?” She asked intently, inching a little closer to me. “What does it feel like now?”

Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine. Big brown irises lined with thick black lashes. Her freckles were nearly impossible to see in the dim warm lighting.

“Now?” I asked. My voice was hoarse and strained.

She nodded. Her lips parted. She inched closer still.

I reached for her and cupped her cheek in one hand. She pressed her face into my palm and closed her eyes for a millisecond, then opened them again as if realizing who she was being vulnerable with.

I smiled. “It feels like I want to do it again.”

Chapter 24

Laura

“Are we doing this?” I whispered.

Max was just inches from me. I could feel his heartbeat through the warm press of his palm upon my cheek. I leaned into it and he held steady, watching me with heavy eyes.

If something didn’t happen and happen quickly, I was going to spontaneously burst into flames.

I needed him.

Fuck did I ever need him.

Max seemed to come to the same conclusion. I watched the decision happen behind his eyes, and then he leaned in, closing the last few inches between us to seal his lips softly over mine.

Yes.

I’d been thinking about this all day long. Our make out sessions on the steps and in the elevator had been a hell of a tease—and a lot more action than I’d gotten in ages. Once my curiosity was peaked it became impossible to think of anything besides wanting Max to hold me like that again.

Naturally I wanted him to do more than hold me. I wanted him to fuck me. I could almost taste how it used to feel when he slid his cock inside me when we were young. He’d get me so wet and so hungry for him that when he finally gave me what I wanted, it was a twisted mix of pleasure and frustration. He knew the power he held over me and wielded it with expertise, keeping me on the end of the hook and aching for more before finally indulging me in my fantasies and giving it to me just the way I liked it.

I wondered if he remembered. I wondered if the man cradling my cheek in one hand while he flicked open the button of my jeans with the other was the same in bed as the man he used to be.

I started smiling.

He chuckled. “What are you thinking about?”

I shook my head and hooked my arms over his shoulders. We continued nipping and kissing each other’s lips as he undid my fly. “Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you,” he growled, when he managed to get my fly undone. Then he grabbed the waist of my jeans and gave them a sharp tug down.

I giggled as they came down my hips.

Max picked me up and put me on the closest desk. A gold pencil holder containing a variety of pens with funny looking erasers on the ends was within reach, and therefore within a distance to be at risk of knocking over. As Max pulled my pants off my ankles and threw them on the ground, I pushed everything out of our way on the desk.

“I hope you remember how that was set up,” Max said, taking his shirt and pulling it off over his head. He was already a little breathless.

Which was good, because it made me feel better about the fact that I was too.

“Why?”

“Because Maxine will be pissed if she comes in tomorrow and sees someone touched her shit.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You care about what Maxine will think?”

Max paused.

I threw my head back and laughed. “Maybe you aren’t so bad, Max Miller.”

He stepped between my legs. I hooked them around his knees and drew him toward me. He was giving me a cocky grin that I didn’t trust. I should have expected him to reach behind me and knock half of poor Maxine’s shit off her desk. It tumbled to the floor and scattered all over the place.

I covered my mouth. “Max!” I should have been mad. I should have scolded him. Or gotten up and put my pants back on.

But I didn’t. I started laughing. And once I started I couldn’t stop. It was like a bunch of stress that had been building up inside me over the last quarter of the year suddenly burst out. And it felt so fucking good.

Max watched me with an amused expression and licked his lips. “I don’t give a damn what Maxine thinks.”

“Me neither.”

Max planted his hands on either side of me on the desk. We were eye level when he stood like this. I reached up and raked my fingers through his hair. It was as thick and soft as it used to be. It still smelled the same, too. Like fresh linen and rainwater scented aftershave. Then I ran my fingers over his bare shoulders and down his stomach.

His body had changed over the years. He was stronger. His shoulders were thicker, and so were his arms. Veins ran along the inside of his forearms and up his biceps. His chest was firm and gave way to a stomach of abs that surprised me. A dark trail of hair wrapped around his navel and plunged down beneath the waistband of his pants.

I knew what waited for me there.

I swallowed as my knees grew weak and something inside me strained for release. My panties grew wet.

Max’s hips were cut in a sharp ‘V’ pointing down to the prize contained in his pants. I ran a finger along his lower stomach before slipping it inside his pants. He flinched as I ran my finger back and forth and then he caught my wrist. “Don’t tease me, woman.”

“Do something, then,” I dared.

He smirked and pulled my shirt off over my head. Now I sat upon poor Maxine’s desk in nothing but my bra and panties. And socks. The wood was cool on my bare ass cheeks.

Max bowed his head to plant kisses along the top of my breasts, which were practically spilling out over my bra cups. He did away with them by pulling them down, letting my breasts pop out so he could swirl his tongue over my nipples. I held his head to my chest as he moved between each breast until my nipples were rock hard.

Then he began working his way down.

“Max,” I whispered. He didn’t need to go down there. That was too intimate. Too personal.

But he ignored me and pulled my panties down. Then he dropped to a crouch in front of the desk, pushed my legs apart, and looked upon my nakedness with a fire in his eyes. “I’ve missed this,” he growled.

I was about to tell him to stop talking when he kissed the inside of my thigh and worked his way up. He danced around my clit, knowing it was my most sensitive spot, and made me wait for as long as he dared before finally running his tongue in a gentle circle around my swollen nub.

I whimpered.

Max was smiling. I couldn’t see him, but I knew. He ran his tongue up and down my slit, lapping at my juices, and took his time applying sweet pressure to my clit.

My whimper gave way to a moan and I arched my back when he ran a finger along my opening.

Then he slipped his thick digit inside me.

My toes curled. I held onto my cry and forced myself to keep it together as he pressed further in and curled upward. He knew right where my G-spot was and wasted no time in getting to it. He flicked his finger, hard and fast, and I wished there was something within reach for me to grab onto.

I found the edge of the desk with my fingertips and clung to that. My spine was still curved as I arched my back, pressing my shoulder blades into Maxine’s desk.

“Max!” I cried. I was going to come. My body trembled.

Max pressed in harder and drew my clit between his lips, sucking hard and rolling his tongue over the tip.

My orgasm was explosive. I came with a quick scream that was one part pleasure and one part surprise. I got it under control quickly and silenced myself as my muscles relaxed. My back straightened out and I was able to lay flat again upon the desk.

Max worked his way up my stomach with his lips, planting kisses in his wake.

I watched him make his way to me. He had a sheepish smile on his lips.

“Stop it,” I said. I couldn’t keep a straight face.

“Stop what?”

“Stop smiling at me like that.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Why the hell not?” I asked, as he leaned over me.

Max shrugged one shoulder. His muscles looked even bigger at this angle. “It’s impossible. That sound you make is exactly the same as I remembered.”

I blushed. “Max. Stop it.”

“No,” he purred, swooping down to kiss my neck. He moved up to my ear. “It’s delicious.”

Max slipped a hand in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open and slid a condom out of one of the inside pockets. I rolled my eyes at him. “Aren’t you a little old to keep a spare condom in your wallet?”

“Says the girl who wants nothing more than to have my cock inside her right this very moment.”

I bit my bottom lip.

“You’re lucky I carry one.”

I ran my tongue along my teeth and lower lip. Damn him.

He tore the condom open with his teeth. I sat up and worked to undo his belt. He watched me as I pulled it apart and then got his pants open. I pushed them down around his thighs, and then pulled his boxers down too.

Max’s cock sprang free. I swallowed. He was as big as I remembered—if not bigger.

“You’re going to have to go easy on me, Max. It’s been awhile.”

“Miller’s don’t go easy.”

“Shut up.”

Max rolled the condom over his thick erection. I couldn’t take my eyes off his length as he pulled the ring down to the base of his shaft. Then he pushed my legs further apart.

“Here?” I asked.

“Here,” he nodded before licking his fingers and running them along my pussy. He patted me right between the legs and I flinched. Chuckling to himself he said, “Don’t know why I even did that. You’re already slick. Just the way I like it.”

“Then fuck me already.”

Max ran the head of his cock up and down my slit. I leaned back on my elbows and watched him watch me. He slid his cock in, teasing me with the first couple inches, and then looked up to meet my eye. He held my gaze as he pushed himself deep inside me.

I moaned. The pressure was exquisite.

Max moved his hips in a slow rhythm to start. I appreciated him not pushing me too quickly. I needed the time to adjust to his size. Hell, I needed time to adjust to sex in general. It had been far too long. Long enough for me to have forgotten how fucking amazing it felt.

Max bowed his head as he worked himself in and out of my pussy. I found myself gripping the edge of Maxine’s desk once more as I watched him. His jaw was tight as he strained against his own pleasure. The muscles in his arms were flexed and I could see that it was taking a lot for him to maintain control.

And it turned me on.

I reached down between my legs and rubbed my clit as he fucked me. I knew it would push him close to the edge and I wanted to watch him unravel. There was nothing sexier than a man coming undone while he buried himself in you over and over.

“Harder,” I pleaded.

Max met my request, quickening his thrusts and managing to bury himself deeper inside me with each one. I sighed with delight as my body seized in preparation for another orgasm. Two in one night. I was one lucky girl.

“Yes,” I moaned.

Max worked faster. His hips slapped into my legs and I whimpered as he hit a particularly wonderful spot inside me. I yelped in surprise. Max drove himself in and up. And then I came hard and fast.

Max couldn’t keep it together when my climax rocked me and squeezed him. His own release was quick to follow. He groaned as I rode the wave of my own back down.

When he was done he pulled out and I instantly wished he had a second condom. I didn’t dare say that aloud. He didn’t need to know just how good it had been—although he probably had an idea due to my screams of pleasure.

My cheeks started to burn as he stepped back and slicked his hair back off his forehead.

“Now what?” I asked, whispering like we’d done something wrong and were at risk of being caught.

“Now?” He asked breathlessly. “We put Maxine’s shit back on her desk and get the hell out of here before the cleaners show up.”

“Good plan,” I giggled.

So we did just that. We both crouched down, basically butt naked, grabbed all of Maxine’s shit, and arranged it on her desk as best we could. Then we hurried to put our clothes back on.

Max watched me as he did up his belt.

“What?” I asked.

He smiled and shook his head. “Nothing, pretty girl. Nothing.”

Pretty girl. I tried to hide my smile as I pulled my shirt on and tugged my hair out from under the collar. Hearing those two words made my heart flutter.

Chapter 25

Max

After our romp in the office, and our destruction of Maxine’s desk, it became impossible for me to think of anything but Laura. I thought of her before I fell asleep and as soon as I woke up. I thought of her in the shower while I jerked off. I thought of her on the drive to work, in the elevator, and whenever I set foot in the office.

She was an all-consuming entity that I could not escape.

And I didn’t want to.

I wanted to be plagued with these thoughts because they were good thoughts, and for the first time in twenty-two years Christmas didn’t seem all that terrible.

It seemed—alright. Bearable even.

It was disappointing that I hadn’t seen her in two full days. My thoughts weren’t as satisfying as actually spending time with her, but they would have to do for now.

Laura was busy tying up some loose ends for the year at her foundation. She had last minute donations to accept and process, which meant more thank you notes and baskets and special letters, depending on who said donors were. She also had other donations in the form of toys and items suitable for teenagers so there would be a gift for every child who came to the Christmas Eve dinner she was volunteering at. She collected the gifts and brought them all to other volunteers to wrap and write notes on so the organizers could separate them into categories to suit each child.

She was an impressive woman.

Her determination to help others was a huge turn on for me. Laura was the most selfless person I had ever met. She was an inspiration, really.

Work went by slowly. The five interns from Laura’s foundations finished off their first week without a hitch. They waved to me through my office windows as they headed out at the end of the work day. I waved back and hurried to finish off the rest of my work.

I was supposed to pick Catherine up at her apartment in twenty five minutes so we could head up to the house to have dinner with Keith and Hayden. Apparently we were having spaghetti, a winter dinner staple.

My stomach was growling by the time I finished everything up and put my jacket on. I shot Catherine a quick text letting her know I was leaving the office. She replied by the time I was in the elevator and heading down to the parking garage, telling me she was ready.

I hadn’t received any panicky calls from her about her MS symptoms getting worse, which was a good sign. I’d been checking in on her every day though and knew she had managed to go into work at the cafe yesterday. She left an hour early because she was tired, but she had been really glad to get some work in and get out of her apartment for a while.

I hoped she would be feeling good today.

Once I got in my car and pulled out into the busy street it took me a good twenty minutes to get to Catherine’s house, putting me fifteen minutes behind schedule. She was waiting outside sitting on the curb. She stood up when she saw me coming and stepped out of the way when I pulled over to get her.

She quickly slid into the passenger seat. She was wearing a long brown skirt and a flowy white knit sweater. A long gold chain around her neck had some feathers dangling from it, as well as a few turquoise beads.

“You look nice,” I told her as I checked my mirrors before pulling back out into traffic.

“Thank you.”

I glanced over at her as she clipped her seatbelt on. I was looking for any sign that she might be having a bad day. Sad eyes. A frown. Creased forehead. Slow movement. Snappy comments. A sigh.

I knew what to look for and I knew what every gesture or word really meant coming from my sister. There was no one on this planet I knew better than her. That also meant I knew that asking the wrong thing could push her over the edge and make her snap. She didn’t like to be reminded that she had MS. She liked to pretend it wasn’t real. And that was fine with me when her symptoms weren’t bothering her. But when she felt ill, and dizzy, and weak, and the depression began to creep in, I had to make sure she would open up to me.

“How have you been?” I asked.

She sighed. It was just a normal sigh, thank goodness. Not one riddled with frustration. “I’ve been alright. A little tired, that’s all. But I’ve been trying to go to bed later and see if I can sleep a little later. It’s been helping.”

“Good.”

“And, before you ask, yes. I’ve been eating plenty. And drinking lots of water.”

I smiled. “You know me so well.”

“We’ve done this whole rigmarole enough times for me to know the questions you’re going to ask.”

“Fair enough.”

We drove in silence for the next fifteen minutes. It was comfortable. Catherine watched out the passenger window as we left the congestion of the city and drew ever closer to the house. Palm trees passed and I drove under their tall skinny shadows on the asphalt.

When I turned onto our old street Catherine shifted in her seat. “I don’t want to talk about it with them, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

“Just because you don’t want to doesn’t mean you won’t have to. Just a bit. They’re going to ask how you are. You can tell them what you want. But—don’t shut them out, okay?”

Catherine blinked. “What?”

“All I mean is that they only want to help and—”

“I know that, Max. I just didn’t ever think I’d ever hear you say something like that. What’s gotten into you? Why are you suddenly asking me to take it easy on Hayden and Keith? You never do.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

She narrowed her eyes as I pulled into the driveway and put the car in park. “You’re so full of shit, Max. Come on. Spill it. Right now. Before we go inside.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” I said dismissively, as I peered up at the house through the windshield. The Christmas lights were up. White lights lined the trim of the roof and framed all the windows. The Christmas tree was visible in the living room window. It was gold and red and as beautiful as Mom liked it to be when she was alive. I found myself almost smiling.

Catherine unbuckled her seatbelt and studied me. Then something about her changed. Her eyes brightened, her eyebrows lifted, and she pointed an accusing finger at my chest. “You’re seeing someone.”

“What?” I laughed. Then I shook my head and took my own seatbelt off. I took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Catherine hurried to get out of the car and slammed the door behind her as she scrambled to catch up with my long strides. I was trying to beat her to the door, but I failed. She stepped in front of me and pointed her finger up at my face. “You’re lying. Look me in the eye and tell me there’s not a girl in the picture.”

I looked into my sister’s eyes. Eyes as green as my own. I tried to keep my expression flat, but failed and felt the corners of my mouth twitch.

“Hah!” Catherine cried. “I knew it! Who is she?”

“No one.”

“Bullshit. What’s her name? Where does she work? How did you meet? When—” she paused and cocked her head to the side. Then she smiled bigger than I’d seen her smile in a long time. “Laura.”

“Nose down, Cat.”

She gasped dramatically. “Oh my God. It’s true. You and Laura! Are you two a thing? Tell me!”

I held up a hand. “Okay. Okay. Fine, I’ll tell you. But this stays between us, alright? I don’t need those two clowns poking their nose in my business.”

“Exactly how I feel about my MS. Well, except the clown part, that’s just rude. But come on—spill—all of it.”

I sighed and slid my hands in my pockets. “Laura and I hooked up on Wednesday night. But before you go asking me a bunch more questions, let me clarify. No, it wasn’t planned. And no, I don’t know if it will ever happen again, or even if she wants it to.”

“Do you want it to?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I do. This is Laura we’re talking about.”

I sidestepped around my sister. She turned on the spot and followed me up to the front door. “I won’t say anything once we’re inside, but I want details, Max. On the drive home. No holding out on me.”

Chuckling, I raised my fist to the door and knocked. “Sounds more than fair.”

“I can’t believe she made the same mistake twice.”

I groaned. “Really? You had to go there, didn’t you?”

Catherine snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth. Then she started giggling, which got me laughing, and we were both having a fit of laughter by the time Keith opened the front door. He stood there staring at us, a bemused look on his face, as we tried to get ourselves under control. Then he invited us inside.

We took off our coats and said our hellos, then followed Keith into the kitchen, where Hayden was spreading butter on halved pieces of baguette. I could smell the garlic already. Catherine went and gave him a hug in greeting, and then she and I took up our seats on the stools at the kitchen island.

“Good to see you guys,” Keith grinned, leaning on the opposite end of the counter. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” we both said in unison.

I looked at Catherine. “You go first.”

She smiled and sat up a bit straighter. “I’ve been good. Feeling a bit run down lately, but Max has been there to remind me to take it easy on myself and slow down. That has really helped. So has having this dinner to look forward to. And Christmas, of course. How are you, Keith?”

Keith clasped his hands together. “I’m good. The house is set up for the holidays and I’ve done all my Christmas shopping. I can’t wait to have you kids over for dinner this year. It will be a feast.”

“It’s always a feast when you’re in the kitchen,” I said.

“Was that a compliment?” Hayden asked, looking over at us from where he stood near the stove, still smothering the baguette halves in garlic butter.

“Butt out, Hayden,” I said.

He rolled his eyes and went back to preparing the garlic toast.

Keith nodded at me. “What about you, Max? How’s work been? Were you able to lighten your load like you said you were planning to do?”

Catherine snorted and snickered beside me. “Oh, he lightened his load alright.”

I shot her a dark look as her snickering became laughter. Keith looked back and forth between us, clearly confused, and I hurried to say, “Yes. I got five new interns who’ve been making it much more manageable.”

“That’s good to hear,” Keith grinned.

“It is, isn’t it?” Catherine asked, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes.

Hayden set the garlic bread on a baking tray and slid it in the oven. Once he set the timer for seven minutes he came over to the island. “Drinks, anyone?”

“Water for me, please,” Catherine said.

“For me too,” I said.

Hayden poured us each a glass while he and his father sipped on red wine.

The whole kitchen smelled like garlic, tomato sauce and carbs. My mouth was watering when Keith took my mother’s Christmas plates down from the cupboards. He passed them out and we fell in line to load our plates full of noodles, sauce, garlic bread and salad. We took our plates and drinks to the kitchen table, which was set with my mother’s Christmas candles and placemats.

I watched Catherine run her fingers along the red placemats trimmed with gold thread. In some places the stitching was coming out. She smiled as if recalling a fond memory, without realizing I was watching her. She then lifted her head. “Hayden, could you pass the parmesan cheese, please?”

Staring down at the Christmas plates and placemats before me, suddenly it was like I was the eight year old version of myself sitting at this very table. My father was at one end and my mother at the other. Catherine was across from me. Nobody was talking. We were just sitting and eating.

Christmas music was playing softly in the background. My mother used to have it on starting December first, and straight through until New Year’s Day. It drove my dad nuts, but he never made her turn it off. He endured it stoically and pretended it wasn’t playing.

It was nice back then. This kitchen. This house.

It was home.

And it still was.

Catherine passed me the parmesan cheese. I thanked her and sprinkled some on top of my sauce and then, just to piss off Hayden who was waiting for it next, I passed it back to Catherine.

And so began an evening of horseplay and joking around.

Like old times.

I didn’t even notice Keith had the Christmas music playing until Catherine and I were getting ready to leave at the end of the night.

Chapter 26

Laura

The church was old—old enough for the parking lot to have been repaved several times over, and for the stucco walls to be painted just as many times. When I was a young girl the church had been a dusty rose color. It had been inviting then and was even more so now. A few summers ago it had been redone and painted white. The shutters, which were originally a warm brown, were now white as well, making the building feel a bit more modern yet still romantic, with staggered levels and a bell tower in the southeast corner.

The one stained glass window, nearly two stories high, was the focal point, and during this time of year was one of my favorite pieces of art in the whole city. It was trimmed in white Christmas lights, which, when you were inside the church, backlit the stained glass beautifully.

As I sat inside the church looking up at the stained glass the Christmas Eve Dinner meeting went on around me. We were finalizing all the details for the event and I had become distracted more than once which was more than a little odd for me. I was attentive and engaged even on my worst days.

But something had changed. My mind wandered and my obsession with the stained glass was just a distraction from what was really tumbling through my head—Max.

There was still a small amount of disbelief inside me and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what we’d done the other night on poor Maxine’s desk. I felt guilt over defiling her space, but it was overshadowed by all my other feelings concerning my hook up with Max. Feelings like excitement, curiosity, lust, infatuation, and maybe even a little bit of regret.

I didn’t have time in my life right now to sort out what everything meant. Max and I were business associates. That was all we were supposed to be.

But I’d flushed that right down the toilet when I gave in the other night.

“Laura?”

I looked over to the woman who had spoken. It was Nadine, one of the volunteer coordinators I’d been on the council with for the last four years. “Sorry?” I asked.

Nadine pressed her thin dark pink painted lips into a smile. “Are you alright, Laura? You seem distracted this afternoon.”

“I apologize. It’s just this time of year. You know how it is. Lots going on.”

Nadine nodded. “Indeed there is. But with only nine days left until Christmas Eve, we must give this our full attention. Do you have a list of all the donated gifts?”

I licked my lips and flipped through the notebook I had in front of me. I flipped through to the tab I’d labelled ‘Santa Gifts’ and scanned the page. With a confident nod I said, “Yes. We have more than enough gifts for the children under age ten, boys and girls alike. All of them are wrapped and have been separated into age and gender categories so we don’t have to worry about sorting the day of. We still have some room for gifts for adults and teenagers, however. If we don’t have enough donations between what I already have and what any of you might have collected, I’ll go out and purchase what we need with the extra funds we have left over.”

Nadine looked around the table. We were sitting at a round table outside the chapel where a choir was currently practicing. They were currently singing O Holy Night, my favorite Christmas song. Their voices were so beautiful I wished we could stop the meeting just to listen. But there were things to do. Lists with items waiting to be crossed off.

“Does anyone have new gift donations to declare today?” Nadine asked.

A couple other people handed me the lists they had of gifts they’d received from their efforts over the last year. Most, as per usual, was for children. It was easier to collect donations for children. People had a softer spot for them, which of course made sense. Christmas was about the children first and foremost.

But the teenagers and adults who attended the event on Christmas Eve were also in dire need of things like blankets, gloves, rain proof jackets, snacks, toothpaste, deodorant, soap, and things along those lines. About forty percent of our attendees were homeless and there was a great need to fill there. Some of them were also adolescents who came from very rough home lives who would wake up to an empty house on Christmas morning.

I wanted to give them one good night. A night where their worries could be pushed aside for just a couple hours and they could feel the magic of Christmas. And for someone with nothing, a nice gift could make all the difference.

By the end of the meeting I managed to put together a breakdown of everything else we might need. Nadine approved my budget and gave me free reign over shopping and gift selection. I thanked her and found my gaze wandering back up to the stained glass window as the meeting wrapped up.

When we were done for the day I collected a few checks from other volunteers to deposit in our bank account as extra funds for this year, if we needed it, or to be used for next year. I said goodbye to everyone and stood outside the chapel doors to listen to the choir finish off their practice with a fun upbeat run through of Jingle Bell Rock.

I tapped my foot on the burgundy carpet throughout the entire song.

Then I left the church, knowing I would not be back until the afternoon of Christmas Eve. Once in my car, I drove down to the bank to get the deposits done before they closed for the day.

The bank was crazy busy. I guess that’s what I got for coming just before closing on a Saturday. The line stretched back and forth between two blue velvet ropes hanging from metal poles. At the front of the line an employee directed customers up to the next available window. It was slow going.

It took twenty minutes for me to reach the front. By then it was three minutes after five. The doors had been locked. No other customers were coming in.

I was directed up to a teller, where I passed over the four envelopes I’d been given from other volunteers to deposit in the joint account for the fundraiser. It took a total of maybe six minutes, and then the clerk smiled at me, wished me a Merry Christmas, and sent me on my way.

Making my way out of the bank, the security guard opened the doors for me. A cool breeze whipped around my legs as I stepped out onto the sidewalk. I tightened my dark green wool cardigan around my neck, nuzzled my chin into the collar, and walked with my head down to my car parked at the curb.

My phone started buzzing when I got to my car. I stood on the sidewalk with my chin still buried in the wool cardigan, and answered the call from Nadine.

“Nadine?”

“Yes. Hello, dear. Sorry to bother you but I seem to have run into a bit of a roadblock and I am completely overwhelmed.”

“What’s going on?” I asked. Now was not the time to experience any hiccups. The event was nine days away and we would be hosting nearly two thousand people over the course of four hours.

“The church double booked Christmas Eve.”

“Wait. What? What do you mean they doubled booked?”

Nadine sighed. I could hear her frustration so clearly that I could picture her pacing back and forth, her forehead braced in her hand. “I’m trying to get to the bottom of it right now. I’m with their event coordinator.”

“What did they book in our slot?”

“They have a Christmas Eve special for the congregation. The choir performs, as well as the children from Sunday school who put on a play. And then there’s Mass, followed by coffee and desserts in the foyer.”

“Where our Santa and gifts are to be held,” I groaned.

“Yes.”

“Fuck. Okay,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. This was not the sort of upheaval we needed with so little time left before the holidays. “Nadine. You let the coordinator know that we will all be showing up at the church at noon to set up, regardless of whether they have space for us or not. If we must we will host dinner in the parking lot. We’ve used this venue for the last four years. This contract has been signed since January first of this year. If he gives you a hard time call me back. I’ll come deal with him myself.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. These people are expecting a dinner. Some of them look forward to it all year. I will not cancel on them because of a scheduling issue. Perhaps the coordinator will be open to combining the events.”

I felt Nadine’s hesitation to that option through the phone. “Do you think the congregation will want to spend Christmas Eve with—well, you know—the sorts of people our event attracts?”

“I don’t really care.”

“Neither do I. But it is an obstacle we might have to face. A conversation we have to have.”

“I will have no such conversation. If they don’t want to share their church with good people who are simply coming for a hot meal and a chance to have their kids sit on Santa’s lap they can stay home for Christmas Eve for all I care.”

“I’ll make sure the coordinator knows where you stand.”

“Thank you. And I mean it, Nadine. If he gives you a hard time just call me. I can be there in less than fifteen minutes. We have people counting on us to make this happen.”

“And it will happen,” she assured me. “I’ll call you and let you know how it goes.”

“Good luck,” I said, and then I hung up my phone, dropped it in the side pouch of my purse, and let out a frustrated growl as I stomped the heel of my boot on the sidewalk. “Damn overbooking idiots. Who doesn’t look at a schedule before they book something? It wasn’t a secret we had this event planned. It’s only been planned for twelve freaking months. Fucking coordinator.”

“Someone’s having a rough day,” a deep male voice said from behind me.

I whirled around. My purse fell off my shoulder and the clasp came undone. It spewed out half the contents, littering lip glosses, tampons, my wallet, parking receipts, and a compact mirror upon the sidewalk. I crouched down to pick it all up as the man who had spoken also crouched down to help me. It wasn’t until I took my wallet from his hand that I realized it was Max.

I laughed. “Of course you happen to be here right when I’m on the verge of having a complete mental breakdown.”

“Trouble in Christmas paradise?”

“You know that Christmas Eve dinner I do?”

He nodded.

“Well, it turns out the church double booked our space. So now we’re in a tight spot. And I should have seen this coming. Really, I should have. The coordinator they have working there is new and he’s totally incompetent. I should have been asking these sorts of questions way sooner to avoid this sort of mix up so close to Christmas. People make me so mad sometimes.”

I crammed the loose tampons that had fallen onto the sidewalk into my bag, righted the strap on my shoulder, and stood up. Max rose with me and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, it sounds to me like you need to take a load off.”

I swallowed. “What did you have in mind?”

He shrugged one shoulder before turning both ways to look down the sidewalk. “How about dinner and a drink? No work talk. Just us ordering off a menu like normal people.”

I should say no. I knew I should. But his offer lit me up inside and suddenly all the stress of the coordinator slipped off my back. I nodded. “That would be nice. Did you have a place in mind?”

He nodded down the sidewalk. “There are a couple places down the block and to the right. Why don’t we walk a ways and pick a spot that looks good? It’s a nice evening.”

He offered me his elbow. So, feeling like a girl who was dipping her toe into a fairytale she knew might be too good to be true, I hooked my arm through his and fell into step beside him as we made our way down the block to the restaurant district.

Chapter 27

Max

Laura’s arm was hooked through mine. Having her walking along beside me made me feel like someone else—someone other than Max Miller. The heels of her boots struck the sidewalk with every step and fell in line with mine.

When we rounded the corner and made our way down a less busy side street, Laura pulled me off to the side of the sidewalk where restaurants had their menus posted. “See? This is how it’s done. You pick the place to eat based on the menu, not the other way around like La Bouche. Stupid restaurant.”

I chuckled. “I deeply regret taking you there.”

“You should. It was a terrible place. So pretentious.”

“Honestly, you may have taken their business model a little personally.”

“Anyone who likes to know what they’re ordering before they order it would take it a little personally.”

I scratched my jaw and peered over her shoulder at the menu posted outside a steakhouse. “This looks alright. Peppercorn steak. Ribeye. Sirloin. What do you think?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like settling for a first choice without looking at other options.”

I sighed and she pulled me along the sidewalk, where we stopped and read the menus of four more restaurants.

Outside an Italian place Laura tapped my arm. “I like the looks of this one. The ravioli sounds amazing. And can you smell those spices?”

“Smells good,” I nodded.

She looked up at me. “Do you think you can handle the festive cheer?”

I gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m sure I can.”

The restaurant was called Decadente. The outside patio was separated from the sidewalk by a black wrought iron fence, and strung along the top of the fence from post to post were dangling icicle lights. Above was a ruby red awning, also hosting twinkling lights over the heads of the guests. Outdoor space heaters kept the guests comfortable. The interior was dimly lit and much more romantic. As soon as we stepped inside Laura looked nervously up at me. “Want to eat outside?”

I nodded. “Works for me.”

The maître d took us to a table outside, right beside the fence. It was a nice private spot and was right beneath a heater. Laura sat down across from me and tucked herself in while the waiter filled our empty glasses up with ice water. Before he left I ordered us each a martini.

“I hope you still like them,” I said, after he left to put in our drink orders.

Laura smiled. “I do, actually. I don’t indulge and treat myself to them very often though.”

“Well, tonight you deserve it.”

“Thank you Max,” she said, as she set her purse down between her chair and the fence. She pulled her phone out and put it face down beside her. “I’m sorry about the phone, and I know this is rude, but I might be getting a call in the next little bit. It could be one of my volunteers or the church coordinator regarding the double booking, and in that case, I would need to take it.”

“Don’t apologize. I understand.”

“You said no work talk though.”

I laughed. “It’s not set in stone. I just meant no Nova Corp talk. I wanted to focus more on us.”

Laura blushed as she plucked her white napkin from the table and draped it over her lap. Then, with a crooked smile, she picked up her menu and flipped it open.

Doing the same, I scanned the menu, spotted a delicious looking scallop appetizer, and began to salivate. “Would you like to share the scallop appetizer?”

“I was just looking at that.”

“Perfect. We’ll order it.”

We spent the next few minutes selecting our meals. Laura decided on what she was originally drawn to, the butternut squash ravioli smothered in a marinara sauce and candied pecans. I ordered a creamy Alfredo dish full of seafood.

After putting in our orders, our martinis arrived. I watched Laura savor her first sip. “Good?” I asked.

She nodded as she set the glass down and licked her lips. “Delicious. Dry. Just how I like it.”

“Me too.”

She ran her hands down her thighs. She seemed nervous and almost out of sorts. I wondered if it was because she was out for dinner with me or because she was worried about her Christmas Eve event.

When she reached for her phone and lifted up the edge to see if she had a missed call, I asked, “How many people usually show up at this thing?”

“On Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah,” I said, taking a sip of my martini.

“Well, this year we’re expecting around two thousand. It grows every year with people talking about it. And it’s for everyone, really. Not just people who can’t afford to have a Christmas dinner, but to people who might be alone on Christmas. It’s for people who have nowhere to go, no one to see or to share the holidays with.”

“Where do you usually spend the night? Are you running around behind the scenes making sure everyone gets their shit done?”

Laura giggled and shook her head. “Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the first year I volunteered that’s what I did. The church didn’t have a coordinator at the time so I filled that role, making sure all the volunteers were where they were supposed to be and were able to take breaks and what not. It’s a very intense four hours while all the guests are there. I made sure Santa showed up on time, I managed the gifts and made sure they went to the right kids. I coordinated the entertainment and all that and ensured that everyone had enough food and food safe practices were being used.”

“And now?”

“Now I wait tables.”

I blinked. “Really?”

Laura rested her fingers along the base of her martini glass as a small smile stretched her lips. She turned the glass in a slow circle as she spoke. “Yes. This will be my third year serving tables. It’s so much more enjoyable for me than being the person who has to crack the whip all night long. I like talking with everyone. Hearing their stories. Sitting down with them when I have a moment. You can learn a lot in a short amount of time from someone whose life experience has been completely different from yours. It’s as beautiful as it is difficult, sometimes.”

She’s way too good for you, my mind whispered. The voice was so sharp and so visceral I flinched, and then disguised the reaction by adjusting myself in my seat. Laura hadn’t noticed. As I sat there and studied her, this beautiful girl from my past—a woman who dedicated her life to helping others and enriching their lives—that voice continued harassing me. She’s too good for you. She’s always been too good for you.

“Do some of the same people come every year?” I asked, hoping she didn’t notice the hitch in my voice.

“Oh yes,” she said, her smile stretching. “And sometimes they bring others with them. Friends. Family. Partners. They’re always eager to introduce me to whoever they brought with them, and I’m always grateful that they have a good enough time at the event to want to bring someone back with them. It means we’re doing a good job and making a difference.”

“You’ve always made a difference, Laura. No matter what you were doing. It’s been your calling since the first time I met you.”

Laura fell very still. “Do you remember?”

“The library?”

She nodded.

“Of course I remember. How could I not? You saved my ass from getting chewed out by my criminology prof. And you saved me a couple hundred bucks on that textbook.”

She looked down at the table. The fullness of her cheeks gave away her grin. “You were so hopeless in that library. Like a fish out of water.”

“I think that was one of about five times I went in there the whole time I was in college.”

“That’s horrifying.”

I shrugged. “School wasn’t for me. You know that.”

“Oh believe me, I know. You tried your best to end my love affair with education, too. Continuously interrupting my study sessions with your—affection.”

“Affection?” I chuckled.

“Yes. Affection.” Laura’s eyes twinkled as she tipped her head back to finish off her martini. I polished mine off as well, and it was perfect timing, because within minutes our meals arrived. Steam wafted up from our plates of pasta, tickling our noses and beckoning us to unsheathe our cutlery from the secondary napkin it was wrapped in.

We dug in.

The first bite was delicious. I watched Laura work to cut her ravioli into bite sized pieces, then she ate one piece at a time, delicately and slowly. She sipped her ice water and dabbed at the corners of her lips after almost every bite.

She was a woman of class.

“Is it good?” I asked.

Her gaze flicked up from her plate to meet mine. “Yes. Very. And yours?”

“Better than expected.”

“Good,” she smiled.

Too good for you. Too good for you. Too good for you.

“Do you want to come back to my penthouse after this?”

Laura paused with her fork inches from her mouth. A piece of ravioli dangled from her fork, and as she considered my question it fell back to the plate, sending splatters of red marinara sauce along the sides of the white dish. “You’re inviting me back to your place?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Yes.”

Laura put her fork down. “Alright. I’ll admit I am a bit curious and would like to see how the other half lives.”

I grinned. “Excellent.”

Too good for you.

Chapter 28

Laura

After dinner Max ordered us each a glass of red wine. I told him I wouldn’t be able to drive my car after this, which was still parked down the block by the bank. So he called a couple of his drivers. One came to our table to get my keys and drove my car back to my place while the other tailed him so they could both drive back to the restaurant. Then they sat out in the black luxury SUV and waited for us to finish a second glass of red wine.

We left the restaurant at around nine-thirty—much later than what I was used to. I mean, I liked to dawdle and have an after dinner drink every now and then, but I usually didn’t stay this late, and I usually didn’t enjoy myself so thoroughly.

Max was a whole new man.

He was attentive, and curious, and engaged. He showed keen interest in what I was saying, which was a stark contrast to the way he used to behave back in college. Back then he’d been interested in one thing and one thing only—getting in my pants.

Of course I knew that could be his motivation tonight as well, and considered the situation as I slid into the back of the SUV with Max. He told his driver to take us to the penthouse, and as we pulled away from the curb Max reached over and laced his fingers between mine.

Maybe he did just want to get down and dirty again. Maybe I was misreading all the signals.

Maybe.

For some reason I was willing to take the risk. Had someone told me a couple weeks ago that I’d be on my way to Max Miller’s penthouse with a belly full of very expensive pasta and liquor, I would have told them to check their facts; oh, and pull their head out of their ass.

The building Max lived in was nothing short of an architectural masterpiece. When the car pulled over and I got out I found myself leaning backward to peer up to the top floor. It was massive, at least eighty stories high, with high gloss floor to ceiling windows on the exterior. The front of the building curved in a wave, almost making it look like it was wet—or like an oil slick on pavement.

Max took my hand and led me across the sidewalk, covered by a red carpet below and a red canopy above. We continued up the stairs to the front door. He held it open for me and I stepped into a gorgeous lobby with black marble floors and pillars. It had a modern yet ancient sort of vibe, with design elements inspired by ancient Greece. As Max led me to the elevator, my ears were filled with the sound of a fountain—with a woman pouring water from a pitcher—that sat in the middle of the lobby.

When we stepped onto the elevator, he pressed ‘P’ for Penthouse.

The elevator ascended. I held his hand and leaned against his arm as the elevator music played softly around us. It was not Christmas music. I wondered if Max had used his considerable wealth and influence to ensure they didn’t play it in the elevator. I wouldn’t put it past him.

Max gave my hand a squeeze when we passed the fortieth floor.

I squeezed back.

Then he pulled me out in front of him, turned me to face him, and pushed me against the elevator doors.

“Max,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to do. Warn him? Plead with him to kiss me?

He interpreted it as the latter, because suddenly he had my face in his warm hands and he was kissing me with an insistent tenderness that made my legs feel like butter. I pressed myself more firmly against the doors at my back to stay on my feet and slid my hands inside his open coat to untuck his shirt from his jeans. It came free easily and I ran my fingers along his taut stomach, tracing his abs.

Abs. I almost giggled. Men like Max didn’t come into my life often. In fact, it had only ever happened twice, both times with him. The other two men I’d ever been serious with had been nothing like him. A law student and a politician. Neither had abs. Or a face like Max’s. But they were sweet, and smart as hell, and they challenged me. But not the way Max did.

No man ever challenged me the way Max did.

Max grabbed my wrist and pulled me against his chest as the doors behind me opened. I collapsed against him and he wrapped an arm around my waist, guiding me out the doors and across the hall to a black front door with a gold ‘P’ on it.

“Fancy,” I said.

Max chuckled as he pulled his key out of his pocket. It too was gold. He unlocked the door, shouldered it open, and stepped inside with his arm still hooked around me.

The delusion that I’d agreed to come over because I wanted to see Max’s penthouse crumbled as soon as he kicked the front door closed behind me. All I knew of his place was that it was dark. Dark walls. Even darker floors.

He gathered me up in his arms and walked me backward as he tugged my jacket off and let it fall to the ground. I stumbled over it, the heels of my boots catching in the fabric, and Max held me up with one arm wrapped around my waist. I giggled as I nearly fell on my ass and grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging him down to me.

His kisses became greedier, the farther into his place we got. Soon I was bumping into furniture. Max tugged at his tie and pulled it off over his head. As his fingers worked down the buttons on the front of his shirt, I scrambled to undress. Moments later, when I stood before him in nothing but my black lace bra and matching panties, Max whistled.

I giggled. “Shut up.”

Max stepped out of his jeans. He was nearly naked too, except for skin tight black boxers that left very little to the imagination. His cock was already hard and straining against the thin fabric. The sight of him had my skin burning up. I wanted him to take me in his arms again, lay me down somewhere soft, and make me feel the same way he had the other night.

I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my panties and licked my lips. Max, his eyes glistening from the lights of the city down below, made a deep sound in the back of his throat as I slid them down my thighs and over my knees, until they were around my ankles. I stepped out of them and shot them across the room like a slingshot. Max chuckled. Well, sort of chuckled. It was a deeply aroused sound that resembled a desperate laugh of some sort, and it vibrated through my veins, sending wicked licks of anticipation throughout my body.

My insides ached.

I turned around slowly. When my back was to Max I reached my arms around to unclip my bra. It popped open and the tension on my shoulders evaporated as I slipped my arms out of it. The air was cool on my exposed skin as it fell to the floor. I reached my arms over my head, tracing the tips of my fingers along the outside of the opposite arm as I did. Goosebumps emerged on my skin and I arched my back, pressing my ass out to give Max a view I knew he would appreciate.

I didn’t hear him come up behind me, but he put his hands on my hips and squeezed the soft flesh there. I smiled and let my eyes close so I could focus on just the feeling of his hands on me as he ran them up my sides to my breasts, which he cupped in his hands as he bowed his head to plant little kisses along my neck and shoulders.

The heat of his breath on my skin was more intoxicating than the drinks at dinner.

I rolled my hips into his groin. He lowered one hand, tracing a line down the middle of my stomach and around my navel, working his way lower, and lower, until he cupped my pussy and pressed the heel of his hand to my clit.

I sighed and rubbed myself against him.

With his other hand Max reached up and gripped my chin to turn my face to the side. He tilted my head up to lower his lips to mine. The kiss left me in need of air as he plunged his tongue into my mouth. At the same time, he rolled his palm in a slow circle then pulled up, tracing his fingers along my opening and dragging my wetness up and around my clit.

My knees trembled and I gasped for air around the thickness of his tongue. Max held my chin tighter and I yielded as the kiss deepened and he slid a thick digit inside me.

Gripping his forearm as he continued to hold my chin, I dug my nails in. As he slid his finger in and out, I whimpered and moaned in his grasp. Max suckled my tongue, then my bottom lip, finally trailing kisses across my jaw while he turned my face away from his to nibble at my earlobe.

He eased another finger inside my pussy.

I gasped, but he didn’t relent. He pushed in deeper, curled his fingers up to my G-spot, and flicked them in a come hither motion.

Suddenly, it had become impossible to stay on my feet. Max released my chin to wrap his arm around my waist and hold me up. He kept me on my feet, even as my legs began to quiver of their own volition, and the tightness inside me burst apart, sending a crescendo of pleasure through my entire body. My orgasm was wild, wet and messy. It shook my entire body and left me breathless once it finally ebbed away.

The ache inside me, however, did not recede.

I only wanted more.

Turning in his arms, I fought against my weak knees the whole way. I pressed my hands flat to his chest as he leaned into me for more sweet kisses. As we kissed I ran my hands down his chest and stomach to the prize still contained inside his boxers. I pulled him free, stroked his thick length, and moaned into his mouth as I fantasized about how good it was going to feel to take him inside me.

I was about to go to my knees when Max pulled away. He slipped out of my arms and went to his pants which lay discarded on the dark hardwood floor. He rummaged around in his pocket, pulled out a condom, and flashed me a devilish smile. Then, stripping out of his boxers, he tore open the condom wrapper.

“Let me,” I said, holding out my hand for the condom.

Max arched an eyebrow, but only hesitated for a second. He dropped the still wrapped condom into the palm of my hand.

Then I went to my knees.

Max watched with a hungry gaze as I parted my lips, rocked forward on my knees, and swirled my tongue around his meaty head. Slowly, I gently took him into my mouth, swirling my tongue all around his sensitive skin. After sealing my lips and puckering my cheeks, I drew him to the back of my throat, working to get my lips to the base of his thick shaft.

Max growled above me. I held his stare as I pressed deeper and held my tongue against him. First softly, then building, I worked him over, bobbing my head and worshipping his cock as if to thank him for the pleasure I knew he was about to bestow upon me.

My pussy ached and dripped as I sucked, licked and stroked his massive cock, and had he let me I would have kept going until he blew his load in my mouth. But he didn’t let me.

After only minutes of sucking him, he pulled away and told me to put the condom on. I did as I was told and took it from the wrapper and rolled it on. Then he pulled me up to my feet and turned me around on the spot. He walked me forward a few steps and I realized we were in his living room. His black couch was in front of me and he immediately bent me over the armrest on the side, giving my ass a little smack that echoed around the place, along with the giggle that escaped me.

He put one hand in the middle of my back to hold me down as he gripped his shaft with the other. Pressing his thick head against me, he slowly worked his cock at my entrance, stretching me. I moaned and looked back at him over my shoulder, just as he slid his full length inside me.

Everything around us vanished. It was just me and him.

His thrusts were deep and slow. I felt every inch as he worked himself in and out of me.

I bit my own shoulder to stay quiet as he drove himself in even deeper. He must have seen the look in my eye, because he let out a primal growl, reached up, and gathered a fistful of my hair in one hand. He pulled my head back and fucked me hard—just the way I liked it.

The grip he had on my hair forced me to look up at the ceiling. Closing my eyes, I spread my legs further apart so I could reach down and rub my clit. The combination was exquisite. My toes curled against the hardwood and I moaned, pressing my ass back so he could fuck me even deeper.

Then I came.

The orgasm nearly stripped my breath from me. Had it not been so ferocious I would have screamed his name without a thought of the other people living in the building.

Max grabbed my ass with his other hand and then slapped it. I yelped. He fucked me harder. His grip in my hair tightened and the tight pain along my scalp was the perfect complement to the pleasure rolling through my body. I liked it.

No. I loved it.

“Harder,” I managed to say through clenched teeth.

Max obliged. His hips slapped against my ass and I reached down to grip the sofa cushions as another orgasm built up inside me. I bit my tongue in a desperate attempt to stay quiet but failed, and a scream of ecstasy tore from my lungs.

Max groaned behind me. His thrusts grew erratic and less controlled.

“Yes!” I cried.

He pulled my head back further. I moaned and writhed against him as his own orgasm took hold of him and sent him over the edge. His moan mingled with mine, and as he came he bowed his head and pinched my shoulder with his teeth.

When we were both spent he released my hair. Putting his hands on my hips, he turned me around and kissed me—sweetly. I looped my arms over his shoulders and kissed him back.

We had to stop to catch our breath.

“So, what do you say about that Jacuzzi now?” Max asked, playfulness lingering in the corners of his mouth.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter 29

Max

We didn’t bother putting anything on before tiptoeing out through my sliding patio doors and across the cool stone patio to my hot tub. I slid the lid off as Laura held her arms around herself and danced on the spot to keep warm. Once the lid was off steam rose into the air, swirling and curling in gentle tendrils of sheer white until it disappeared a couple feet into the air.

I took Laura’s hand and guided her up the wooden stairs on the side of the tub, and kept hold of her as she stepped into the water.

“Oh my God that’s nice,” she said, stepping down to the floor of the hot tub and moving to the far corner where she sat down. The water came up to the base of her throat. I didn’t like not being able to see her well, so I turned on the lights inside the tub, which illuminated her body under the water.

Then I got in and sat down across from her.

Laura ran her hands over the surface and breathed in deeply. She rested her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes. “God, if I had one of these I’d never get out.”

“I hardly ever come in here.”

“What? You’re kidding.” She cracked open one eye to peer at me suspiciously. “Why not?”

I shrugged. The water sloshed gently around my shoulders. “Don’t know. It’s not as enjoyable when you’re alone, I guess.”

“Well, you can call me anytime and I’ll be over for a dip.”

“Good to know.”

“Are there jets?”

“Are there jets,” I scoffed, making fun of her question. I flicked the jets on from the pad behind me that also controlled the lights, and the water bubbled and frothed around us. It was pleasant, but it obstructed my view of her beautiful body beneath the surface. “Of course there are jets.”

Laura giggled and leaned back once more. She let her body float upward and her breasts broke the surface of the water. Perky and full, all I wanted was to go to her and worship her body. She was a masterpiece of lean lines and soft milky skin.

“Stop staring,” she said.

“Sorry.”

She giggled and went to her knees in the middle of the tub. “I’m just messing with you, Max. And since when do you listen to what people tell you to do?”

“I don’t. You’re the exception.”

Her smile was radiant and I liked how it made the corners of her eyes crinkle. She turned away from me, still smiling, and draped her arms over the side of the tub to peer out at the city lights spread out below. “It’s truly magical up here.”

I moved to the edge of the tub and leaned there beside her. She crossed her arms and rested her chin on her wrists. “It’s not bad. I’ve never gotten tired of the view.”

The lights down below glittered in her eyes as Laura stared out toward West Hollywood. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.”

“Me neither,” I said. But I wasn’t talking about the view. I was talking about the pretty girl beside me. The girl who had marched back into my life and grabbed onto my heart with her tiny fist, and was still holding on strong.

She sighed with contentment and turned to look at me. “Do you feel the Christmas spirit yet, Max?”

“What is this ‘spirit’ you speak of?”

She shrugged a shoulder and beads of water trickled down her skin. I wanted to lick all the glistening beads off her flesh. “You know. That warm feeling you get in your chest. The giddiness and joy, wanting to make others feel happy too. The anticipation that something wonderful is on the horizon. Does any of that sound familiar at all?”

I shook my head.

Laura gave me a crooked smile before turning back to the view. “Well, I suppose not all of us are lucky enough to feel it every year. But, I think one day you’ll feel it, Max. Maybe when you have kids around.”

I laughed, “Kids? Me?”

She nodded. “Christmas is always better when there are kids. Instead of feeling the magic, which you might just not be able to do, you get to create it for someone else.”

“Sounds fun.”

“And tricky.”

I could only imagine how much work it had been for my mother to maintain our belief in Santa Claus for as long as she did. I considered myself to be one of the lucky ones. Some of my friends stopped believing when they were as young as six, and even they couldn’t convince me that Santa was fictional.

I recalled coming home from school one day in tears. Rushing into my mother’s arms, I told her that my friend Daniel told me Santa Claus wasn’t real. He told me his parents were the ones who left the gifts under the tree on Christmas Eve. He saw them do it the year before, and this year he’d found his presents stashed at the back of his mother’s walk-in closet.

Faced with this news, my mother knelt in front of me and wiped my tears away. “Sweet Max. Santa is as real as you believe him to be. If you believe that he will come, trust me, he will come. And he will continue to do so until you decide you no longer want him to.”

At the time her words immediately eased all of my worries and I was able to ignore what Daniel had said. In fact, I pitied him. He stopped believing, and therefore missed out on plenty of Santa filled Christmas Eve nights. I however, continued believing until I was about twelve. That’s when the doubt started creeping in. But doubt was alright, because it allowed for a slow acceptance of truth. I was never bitter about it and I let go when I was ready. So did Catherine.

“Max?”

I looked over at Laura. “Hm?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“My mother, actually.”

Laura tucked her hair behind her ears and turned to face me, away from the glow of the lights below. She sank deeper into the water. “Do you miss her?”

“Every day.”

“What were you remembering?”

I smiled and sank down into the water with her. “I was thinking about how she helped me believe in Christmas. And how important it was to her that Catherine and I held on to the magic for as long as we could.”

Laura put her hand over mine. “I’ve never met anyone who loved Christmas as much as your mom. Her Christmas earring collection used to make me so envious. And all her sweaters and vests—”

“Her sweaters and vests were horrible,” I laughed.

“No they weren’t! They were festive. And bright and fun. Your Mom was the embodiment of Christmas spirit, Max. She felt it in her bones.”

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

“You’ll feel it too one day.”

I smiled. “Well. I want to feel it now. And I think I have an idea of what will do the trick.” I stood up. The water sloshed around my legs as I climbed out of the hot tub.

“Oh? And just where are you off to?”

I held up a hand as I crossed the patio. “You stay right where you are. I’m going to go fix us a Christmas cocktail.”

Laura whistled. “Nice ass, Max Miller. You’ve still got it!”

My cheeks burned. Damn. I’d never felt flustered in the presence of a woman before. I hurried inside, leaving wet footprints across my floor as I hurried over to the bar in my dining room.

Inspecting my liquor collection with desperation, I clamored for ideas. I needed to throw a festive drink together, but I had literally no clue how to do so.

Ha! At the very back of the cabinet I found a bottle of peppermint liquor. I grabbed it and hurried into the kitchen, where I mixed two ounces in a wine glass and topped it with tonic water. I added a dash of sugar to each and then fished some frozen berries out of my freezer that hadn’t seen the light of day in probably a year. I dropped those in to find myself staring at a rather impressive looking drink.

Of course, I realized then that mint liquor and berries probably didn’t mix well.

But the deed was done and I carried the two wine glasses outside, nearly slipping in the puddles of water I’d left on the floor.

Laura was looking out across the city again when I got back in the water and handed her the drink I’d made. “I think I need to warn you—there’s a good chance this will be terrible.”

Laura smelled it. Her eyebrow arched. “Why does it smell minty?”

“I put mint liquor in it.”

Laura laughed. “Oh. Okay Mr. Creative.”

“It was my attempt at a Christmas drink, alright?”

Laura lifted her glass to mine and we tapped the edges together. “Well, it is definitely beautiful, so even if it’s terrible all is not lost.”

“Well, here’s hoping,” I said.

We both pressed the glasses to our lips and took a sip.

It was God awful. I barely managed to swallow it, and when I did, I nearly burst out laughing because of the look on Laura’s face. She forced herself to swallow it, with her eyes still squeezed tightly shut. Then she opened her mouth and fanned it. “Max! This is—disgusting!”

I couldn’t stop snickering. “I know.”

“We should name it.”

“Name it? Why would we name something so horrible?”

Laura nodded. “Yes. It needs a name that really captures its essence, you know? So when we’re old we’ll have a point of reference when we discuss various events from our past. I know, how does Very Un-Merry Sparkling Shit grab you?”

“I like that. You should get a job in marketing.”

“Okay then, Very Un-Merry Sparkling Shit it is!” she said. And then, in the most baffling move of the day, she took another sip, struggled to swallow it, and covered her mouth as she burst into a fit of giggles. “It’s so bad.”

“Then quit drinking it!”

She shook her head and took another sip, wincing as she swallowed. “I can’t. I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“Woman, give me your damn glass,” I growled, lunging toward her and plucking the glass out of her hands. She laughed hysterically and slid into the seat behind her as I moved between her legs and placed the two glasses on the edge of the tub. She watched me with those dark brown eyes of hers, then reached out to loop her arms over my shoulders, entwining her fingers behind my neck.

“Thank you for dinner tonight. And for this. It’s been lovely. Surprisingly so. Except for the drink, of course.”

I put my hands on her thighs. “Thank you for accepting the invitation. I wasn’t sure you would.”

Laura’s fingers moved up into my hair. “You know,” she whispered, “I’ve never had sex in a hot tub before.”

Gently, I pushed her legs further apart. “We can rectify that little problem right now if you like.”

“Oh, I like,” she nodded, then pulled me down to her, wrapping her legs around my waist. Crushing her lips to mine, we sank into a long kiss. She tasted like mint, berries and tonic water.

Chapter 30

Laura

When I woke up on Sunday morning I was disoriented. It was so quiet. There was no sound of traffic, no neighbors talking or music playing, no sounds of kids outside, nothing. It was just quiet—like that blanketed sound after a heavy snowfall.

I opened my eyes and found myself staring up at a white ceiling. It looked like snow.

Sunlight nearly blinded me and I squinted against the glare shining in through a window on the other side of the room. Max’s room.

Right.

I’d spent the night at Max’s condo. After the hot tub, and the glorious sex we had in it, we’d moved back inside, where I showed him how to properly mix a Christmas cocktail. His liquor collection was impressive, therefore the drink I made was also impressive, and we drank a few too many. Finally, we stumbled into the bedroom, collapsed on the bed, and made love like two people who hadn’t had sex in ages.

He was insatiable. Ravenous, even. And I was too infatuated by him to want anything besides the sex and the closeness. And the kisses. The kisses were a big part of it. Max had a way of letting me know exactly how he was feeling, just from a kiss.

I turned my head away from the glare of the sun. Max was beside me sound asleep. He was lying on his side facing me, with his arm tucked under his pillow. Half of his face was hidden from view and his breathing was deep and slow.

He was without a doubt the most handsome man I’d ever seen. In person, anyway. I mean, honestly, he had the facial structure of someone who could be in the movies or on the front of a magazine. His strong jaw, sharp angular nose and high cheekbones made for a somewhat severe masculine look. But the warmth of his eyes and the softness of his smile took some of that harshness away. It all worked together and the result was one stunningly handsome man.

I sighed and pulled myself a little closer to him. I could feel the heat of his body under the sheets as my knees bumped into his when I curled up on my side to face him.

Suddenly his green eyes were open.

“Oh,” I breathed. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

Max offered me a sleepy smile. “Don’t be sorry. It’s a great way to wake up.”

What a sweet talker. My cheeks burned and I propped myself up on my elbows. “Did you have a good sleep?”

“Best I’ve had in weeks.”

“Me too.”

Max rolled onto his back and indulged in a stretch. His back cracked and he yawned, stretching his arms up over his head. The blankets came down exposing his chest and some stomach muscles. Then, when he had cracked all the necessary joints and stretched all his muscles, he rolled back over to face me, draped an arm over my waist, and said, “Can I make you a cup of coffee?”

“Yes, please,” I said. “Wait. Do you make coffee better than Christmas cocktails?”

After some objections and a mutual fit of giggles, Max sat up and so did I. The blankets fell away and we both walked across the room butt naked. Max went to his drawer, pulled open the top drawer, and tossed me something soft and gray. I unrolled it to discover it was a T shirt. I ducked into it, thankful I didn’t have to put my jeans back on right away. I liked lounging in the morning, especially on Sundays, and a girl couldn’t lounge properly if she was wearing something as restricting as denim.

It was just a fact.

Max slipped into a pair of sweats and a white tee and then nodded toward the bathroom. “I’ll use the one down the hall. Feel free to shower if you’d like. There are fresh towels under the bathroom sink.”

“Maybe later,” I said. “But I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” I had to pee but didn’t want to say so. I wasn’t sure why. Everyone did it. Maybe it was because this new flame between us was burning so hot I didn’t want to spoil it with things as mundane as having to go to the bathroom.

So, I waited for him to go down the hall before I locked myself in his bathroom and did my lady business. After relieving myself, I washed my hands and splashed cold water on my face. I dabbed it dry with a plush hand towel and raked my fingers through my hair, shaking out some of the tangled curls.

Then I wandered down the hall, interested in getting a look at the place in the daylight.

It was spectacular and edgy, with modern furniture and a streamlined design. Nothing was without a purpose. The walls were bare for the most part, save for a couple of abstract pieces of art on the living room wall, done in black, gray, and streaks of red. The couches were sleek and black, as was the coffee table. There was no area rug or anything that might lend the room a bit of warmth or comfort. It was, without a doubt, the home of a man who lived alone.

I padded through the living room and passed the dining room. It was just as sleek as the living room. In the kitchen I found Max scooping ground coffee into a glass and silver coffee press. He looked up when I stopped in the doorway, crossed my arms, and leaned one shoulder against the doorframe.

“I hope you like dark coffee,” he said.

“I do.”

He nodded before going to the black kettle that was beginning to boil on the stove. He poured it over the ground coffee beans, stirred it up, and then put the plunger on top. He poured the rest of the hot water into two black coffee mugs on the counter to warm them up. I appreciated a man who considered making a cup of coffee a process.

“Are you hungry?” He asked.

“Not yet, but I’m sure I will be.”

“I can make crepes.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You can?”

Max threw his head back and laughed. The sound ricocheted around the kitchen and filled me with a cozy feeling. “Try not to sound so surprised, pretty girl. I have hobbies.”

“You consider making crepes a hobby?”

He leaned one hip against the counter and gave me a devilish smile. “No. But I do consider it to be something I enjoy doing every second Sunday morning.”

“And what are you doing on the Sundays in between?”

“I still go to that rundown little diner with Hayden and Catherine.”

“Do you really?”

He nodded.

“Do you still order that Lumberjack breakfast thing? With all the pancakes and the toast and hash browns?”

“If I feel like it, yes.”

“They should have just called it the Carb Load breakfast.”

Max shook his head at me. “So, am I making crepes or what?”

I grinned. “Sure. I’m not the kind of girl to turn down a homemade crepe.” Especially not crepes made by the man who’d just fucked my brains out the night before, and slapped my ass hard enough to leave a red handprint. Talk about sweet and savory.

Watching Max in the kitchen was entertaining. He knew what he was doing, but he left an absolute disaster in his wake. Within ten minutes or so the accumulation of bowls, pans, and other dishes on the counter became too much for me, and I went over and started tidying up. We sipped our coffees while he cooked, and he did not refrain from showing off his skills at actually flipping the crepes in the pan once they were cooking.

I chopped up some fresh berries I found in the fridge and Max brought out a can of whipped cream and a jar of Nutella. When I gave him a skeptical look he told me to trust him, and then he placed a crepe on a plate, smothered it with Nutella, and filled it with berries. He rolled it up, loaded up a section of the plate with whipped cream, and passed the whole thing over to me. He told me to stay where I was as he fetched pure maple syrup from the fridge to drizzle on top.

My mouth was watering.

We carried our plates and coffee into the living room and took up a seat on his black sofa. I sat sideways with my back against the armrest he’d bent me over last night and tucked my toes under his thigh.

Then I took my first bite. “Oh. Holy shit. Max, this is delicious. Way better than that Very Un-Merry Sparkling Shit fiasco last night.”

Max cracked up then took a few bites of his own crepe. We ate quietly. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to cram as much of the crepe into my mouth as I could. Every bite was a sweet flavor explosion and the Nutella melted on my tongue. It was heavenly, and the sips of coffee between bites made it even more magical.

A man had never made me something so decadent before.

And I sure as hell never expected Max to be the one to surprise me with something like that.

When we were done eating and our plates were essentially licked clean, Max took mine from my hands and set it on his coffee table. Then he leaned back against the sofa and rested his hand on my bare ankle. “This may seem a bit out of left field, Laura, but I have to tell you. I’m really glad to have you back in my life. I know it’s probably just temporary—but having you around has made this Christmas season a little less unbearable.”

“A little less unbearable? Wow. That may have been the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” I laid on the sarcasm pretty think, even for me.

Max scratched the stubble on his jaw. “Yeah sorry. Point taken. I didn’t mean it like it sounded. Let me try again.”

I smiled and leaned forward to grab his shoulder. “I’m teasing. I know what you meant. And for the record, I’m glad we reconnected too. I’ve had a really good week with you, Max.”

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Come with me to my family dinner on Christmas.”

I blinked. “I’m sorry? What?”

He turned to face me. “Keith is cooking dinner. It’s just me, Catherine and Hayden every year. Come with me. I know they’d love to have you there.”

I opened my mouth to answer him.

Max frowned. “I know you have plans with your friend. I’m sorry. Don’t feel like you have to say yes. The idea just struck me and I thought it would be nice but—”

“Max,” I said, slowing him down as the words tumbled out of him. “I’d love to spend Christmas with you.”

Max cocked his head to the side. “Really? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll spend the afternoon with Ella and her family, and then I’ll spend the evening with you. I haven’t seen Keith, Hayden or Catherine in ages. It would be nice to reconnect with them, and hey, what better time than Christmas, right?”

Max grinned and put his hand on my knee. “Right.”

Chapter 31

Max

Last week had probably been the best week I’d had since my mom died.

Laura and I were nearly inseparable at the office on Monday and Wednesday, the two days she was able to come in to see the kids and check in on them. It was hard being away from her but I understood she was busy with her foundation and the Christmas Eve fundraiser. The conflict with the coordinator at the church seemed to have been solved and the event was likely going to be much bigger than anticipated. I’d chipped in a good sum of money to help Laura cover any extra expenses. She was spread thin and stressed out, but she wasn’t going to let that ruin a night that the attendees had been looking forward to all year.

Not only was she busy with those things, but she was also running all over the place to finish her Christmas shopping. When I offered to have my personal shoppers do the errands for her—she looked like she might vomit. She couldn’t understand why I would get someone else to shop for me. Apparently for her the shopping, albeit stressful, was one of her favorite parts.

She liked the hustle and bustle of the malls that I tried to avoid. She liked the lines because she saw it as an opportunity to chat with strangers, who were all in better moods than usual because of the holidays. I told her she was crazy.

And we laughed. And then we had sex.

There’d been a lot of that happening for the past week. It was impossible for me to keep my hands off her. She was too sexy for her own good, and she knew it. She liked to tease me with her body and that sexy smile of hers any chance she got. That included while we were at work. Sometimes she’d walk past my office and give me that flirty little smile I liked so much. Then I’d sit there until my hard on went away and it was safe to stand up and move about the office.

Even though we’d been having a lot of sex and doing a lot of flirting, we’d also had a chance to talk about the future of her foundation. At dinner the other night Laura had told me all about her plans to open a children’s home after I asked her what her dream was. She’d told me she liked the idea of also maintaining a program like the internships I’d offered her five kids.

It all sounded like a good dream to me and I wanted to help her realize it. I wanted to make it real for her. So I told her I’d help her—that I would do whatever it took to help her get the children’s home out of the idea phase and into the let’s-do-the-damn-thing stage.

She’d been so overjoyed she kissed me. And then, naturally, we had sex.

And then we had sex again just for good measure.

It felt like we’d been seeing each other a lot longer than just two weeks when I left the penthouse on Sunday morning to meet up with Catherine and Hayden for breakfast. Laura had spent the night at home because she had plans with Ella early this morning.

It was December twenty third and I couldn’t wait to see her for Christmas dinner. I didn’t want to have to wait that long though. I wished I could see her sooner. But I understood that she had obligations tomorrow night. I couldn’t expect her to just drop everything for me.

I arrived at the diner before our usual ten o’clock meet up time. Neither of my siblings had arrived yet. It was a strange feeling to be there first.

Picking out a booth, I took my jacket off, and got comfortable. The waitress brought me a cup of coffee and a glass of water, and I sat and sipped my coffee while I waited for the others to arrive.

I didn’t have to wait long.

Catherine arrived first. I watched through the window as she got out of a cab, paid the driver, and crossed the sidewalk. She was coming in through the door when Hayden pulled up and parked his Escape a few spaces down the road.

I looked up and smiled when Catherine arrived at the booth. She stood there with her hands on her hips looking down at me. “Who are you and what have you done with my brother Max?”

“Oh come off it, Cat. Sit down.”

“Don’t call me Cat.”

“Whatever,” I said, sliding to the edge of the booth so she could sit beside me. She dropped down into the booth and gave me a one armed hug. “How are you, sis?”

“I’m good,” Catherine smiled. “But the better question is, how are you? And why are you here early? I’m so confused.”

Hayden arrived just in time to join in the conversation. He dropped into the booth across from me and my sister, a sly smile playing on his lips, and said, “I’d say good morning, but I’m worried something is wrong. Why are you here so early, Max?”

“For fuck sakes, you two. I’m not always late.”

“Yes, you are,” they said in perfect unison.

I rolled my eyes before dispersing the three menus sitting in front of me on the table. “Order your damn food.”

“I already know what I’m getting,” Catherine said, as she rested her chin upon her knuckles and grinned at me. “What’s going on with you, Max? Something is up. A sister can always tell.”

“Nothing is up.”

Hayden clicked his tongue. “Lying is bad, Max. And a sure-fire way to end up on the Naughty List.”

“Get bent, Hayden.”

Hayden chuckled and Catherine slapped my arm. She nudged my shin with the toe of her boot. “You look good, too. Happy. Healthy. And last I checked it is still December—usually by the twenty-third, you’re nothing but a big old grouch.”

I didn’t say anything. Instead I calmly scanned over my menu.

Catherine slapped her hand over it and slammed it down on the table. “I smell romance.”

Hayden perked up at that. “What? Is that true, Max? Are you seeing someone?”

“What is this? High school?” I barked.

The two of them exchanged a look, and then Hayden shrugged. “You tell us. You’re the one playing hard to get and trying to hide a smile like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.”

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“Bullshit,” Catherine said.

I turned to her. “What about you, then? You seem chipper, too. Feeling better?”

Catherine prickled under my words but lifted her chin. “As a matter of fact yes, I am feeling good. And in perfect time for Christmas, too. I know my symptoms will periodically come back and I’ll have tough times ahead, but if I can get through the holidays I’ll be happy. Okay, your turn. Spill.”

I sighed. I couldn’t fight against her any longer. Not after her honesty. So I rubbed my forehead and said, “Fine. I’ve been seeing Laura Wessex.”

Hayden’s eyes widened in surprise and Catherine leaned back, her mouth falling open. “Really?” she said, shocked that I’d actually answered truthfully.

I nodded.

Hayden leaned across the table. “How long has this been going on?”

“Not long. Two weeks.”

“Who initiated?” Catherine asked.

“Me. And I invited her to Christmas dinner, too.”

“What?” They said in unison again.

I looked back and forth between them. “Quit acting so surprised. Why is all this such mind boggling news to you?”

“Because last time we heard about Laura, you’d already pissed her off by coming onto her,” Catherine said.

“And, you know, you guys have history from when you were together before,” Hayden added.

“That was a decade ago.”

“True,” Hayden said.

Catherine smiled. “I’m happy for you, Max. Just a little surprised. But a good surprised. Does that make sense?”

“Sure,” I said.

“I’m looking forward to seeing her at dinner,” my sister smiled. “It’s been a long time.”

“She’s looking forward to seeing you guys as well. Try not to make me look like an ass, will you?”

“Why?” Hayden asked, cocking his head to the side.

I shrugged. “Because.”

Catherine went stiff beside me. I didn’t look at her as she drew in a deep breath. “You really care about her, don’t you Max?”

I nodded.

“Why did the two of you end things all those years ago?” Hayden asked.

I sighed. “Because I treated her like trash.”

“Why?” Catherine asked.

I scratched the back of my neck. “Because I knew back then that she was too good for me. She still is.”

“That’s not true,” my sister said in a scolding tone.

I chuckled. “I appreciate the moral support, but trust me, it’s true. Laura is as good and pure as they come. And I’m, well, me. She and I don’t make sense on paper.”

“A lot of love stories don’t make sense on paper, Max,” Catherine said. Her smile was kind but sad.

And what she was saying might have been true. But it wasn’t enough to shake the truth from my bones. Laura was too good for me. The thought had plagued me last week and every day since that night in the hot tub. I had tried to silence it with other thoughts, with burying myself in my work, and with other distractions, but no matter how much I tried, it was still there in the back of my head, reminding me where I stood in all this.

And it wasn’t with Laura.

I was the guy girls like her dated before they found ‘the one.’

Chapter 32

Laura

I set the pitcher of water down on the buffet table so I could roll up the sleeves of my white button up. Then I picked it back up and set out on a course between my five round tables in the multi-purpose room. I refilled all empty or half-empty glasses, and received big smiles and cheery thanks from everyone at the tables.

The Christmas Eve Dinner was a success.

The congregation turned out and attended—donations in hand—when they learned we were hosting an event at their church that night. I’d been so overwhelmed all day getting last minute things done, that their generosity had pushed me over the edge and I had to lock myself in one of the bathrooms for a good cry before heading back out on the floor.

The congregation spent most of the evening in the chapel for mass while we hosted our dinner over in one of the rooms down on the lower level.

Everything went off without a hitch. People filed in one after the other to take up their spots at tables. We couldn’t serve everyone at once, so those who we could not seat yet had to mill around upstairs and wait their turn. Luckily, we had tables with pastries and appetizers set up, and more than enough to occupy those waiting.

We cleared the two thousand mark by another three hundred people. It was the biggest turn out we’d had since the event started.

Nadine was running around like a chicken with her head cut off making sure volunteers were all in the right places. She had a clipboard full of notes and sign-up sheets to keep track of everyone. When she ducked her head in the makeshift dining room and spotted me I gave her a big smile and a thumbs up. I had everything under control here, so she didn’t need to worry about a thing.

I passed one of the tables and an elderly man reached out to touch my elbow. I turned to him with a smile. “Good evening, sir. What can I get for you?”

He pointed at his potatoes. There was a massive pile of them on his plate and it looked to me like he’d eaten the outside layer of gravy off of them. He was at least seventy years old with a thick gray beard. His clothes hung off him in tattered layers. The soles of his shoes were almost worn all the way off and his hands were dark from living outside and not having access to a bath or shower for weeks at a time.

I smiled. “More gravy?”

He nodded.

I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be right back, okay? Can I get you anything else while I’m in the kitchen?”

He shook his head and I went off in search of a plastic cup I could bring him some gravy in. The nice thing about this event was if someone asked, they received. It was a rule I’d implemented the first time I volunteered. I believed that anyone from all walks of life should be able to come to our dinner and be treated as an elite guest. They never received this kind of service in their daily lives, but I wanted to guarantee it to them this evening. We all deserved some extra care and attention at Christmas time.

I found a small cup and brought it to him. He was incredibly thankful, though he could not speak, and I told him I’d come back to check on him shortly to make sure he didn’t run out. Then I did another lap and saw to other people’s needs.

As I was bringing fresh napkins to the table of a young family with six kids, I happened to look up at the doorway. Standing in the middle of the entrance, and all dressed in black, was Max.

He was watching me with a smile on his face. I hurried over to him and jumped into his arms, throwing mine around his shoulders. He laughed in my ear as he hugged me, and then kissed me when I pulled away.

He set me down and I pulled my sweater down. It had ridden up when I leapt into his arms. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

Max shrugged and looked around. “I came to help. And, well, it’s Christmas Eve. I wanted to see you.”

I felt my eyebrows creep up my forehead. “It’s Christmas Eve so you wanted to see me? What does that mean?”

He smirked. “I guess it means I might be feeling a bit of that mysterious Christmas spirit you’re always talking about.”

I patted his cheek. “Oh. You’re gonna learn a lot about Christmas spirit tonight, Max Miller. Roll up those sleeves. I’m putting you to work.”

The Christmas Eve dinner wound down at ten o’clock that night. Max and I stayed until eleven to help all the other volunteers clean up. Nadine ushered me out the door at eleven on the dot and told me not to lift a finger until the holidays were over. Max took my hand and assured her he would make sure I enjoyed Christmas, and then he pulled me down the stairs and out to the parking lot. “Where’s your car?”

“I walked. I’m not far down the road.”

“I gave my driver the night off.”

“Guess you’re walking me home, then.”

Max offered his arm and I took it.

The walk home was more romantic than I could have dreamed. Our steps were slow and lazy as we toddled down the sidewalk admiring the Christmas lights on all the houses and the Christmas trees twinkling in people’s windows. I pointed out some of my favorites along the street, and Max chuckled at the one house that had a cardboard cut-out of the Grinch on their roof stealing the string of lights from the trim.

“I can’t imagine a better way to spend Christmas Eve,” I said, as we approached my townhouse at the end of the street.

“It’s the best I’ve had in twenty-two years,” he said.

I stopped walking and so did he. Our arms were still looped together as I stared up into his bright green eyes. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

I stretched up on the tips of my toes and kissed him. His lips were warm and soft and a welcome sensation upon my own. The night was chilly, even for LA, and I wanted to curl up in his arms.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside,” Max said.

We walked up the stairs to my front door. I fumbled with my key in the lock as Max looked over my shoulder. His closeness was distracting. So I told him so. “I can’t get the door open with you hovering like that.”

“How come?” He asked, leaning down and resting his chin on my shoulder.

“You’re in my light.”

“Bullshit. There is no light. It’s dark as hell out here.”

“Well. Just give me some space, will you?”

Max brought his mouth right to my ear. I could feel his breath on my neck. “No.”

I shivered. The key slid into the lock.

“Thatta girl,” he cooed in my ear. Then he ran his tongue up the side of my neck before pinching my earlobe between his teeth.

I whimpered. It wasn’t because it hurt. Quite the opposite. He was being gentle, but he was overriding all of my senses. All I could smell was Max. All I could feel was his body pressed up against my back, his teeth pinching my ear, his breath hot against my neck. It was all him.

And it was all I wanted.

I turned around in his arms. Max planted his hands on either side of me, with the door at my back. He loomed over me, his broad shoulders blocking my view of the street and park behind him. I stared up into his face, all shadows and darkness, and whispered, “Are you coming in?”

If he smiled I couldn’t see it. “Yes pretty girl. I’m coming in.”

Max reached down and turned the door handle. The door opened wide and he pushed me inside. We stepped over the threshold and I was shrugging out of my jacket before he kicked the front door closed behind him.

“Nice place,” he muttered as I pulled my sweater up over my head.

“Thanks.”

Max took off his coat and undid his shirt as he followed me down the hall. We arrived at the bottom of my stairs, which I began to ascend, walking up backwards so I could watch his shirt come undone. He followed me up, his shirt hanging open, and when I reached the top I pulled off my black dress pants. I draped them over the banister and turned around to prance into my bedroom.

Max was hot on my heels.

He caught up to me before I reached the bed, wrapped an arm around my waist, and took me down to the mattress in a fit of giggles. He trailed his lips up my arm and across my shoulder until he finally worked his way up to my lips. Then he rolled himself on top of me and pinned me beneath him as our kiss deepened.

His jeans were still on and so was his shirt. But it was open, so I slid my hands inside and up his back. Muscle rippled beneath skin. Denim whispered against my bare legs. I tried to reach down to start undoing his jeans, but he caught my wrist to stop me and began working his way down the length of my body.

When he hit my hips he began drawing my panties down over my legs. Once they were down around my ankles he pulled them free, tossed them aside, and pushed my knees apart to settle between my legs.

I looked down at him, now wearing nothing but my bra, and watched as his tongue darted out to swirl over my clit.

I sighed with pleasure and let my head fall back to the mattress. Each roll of his tongue made the fire inside of me burn hotter. I sunk my fingers into his hair with one hand and reached above me with the other to grip the top of the mattress.

As he worked me closer to the edge, his tongue now lapping at my juices, I lifted my ass from the bed. He put his hands under my ass and held me up. I moaned, whimpered and writhed, then gave into my body as my orgasm broke over me.

Max licked his lips as he straightened up between my legs, crammed a hand in his pocket, and pulled out a condom.

“You’re always prepared, aren’t you?”

He pinched the wrapper between his teeth to undo his jeans and push them and his boxers down to his knees. Then he tore the wrapper open with his teeth and rolled the condom on. “Chances with a girl like you are few and far between. A guy would be an idiot not to carry at all times.”

“Not to carry?” I snickered. “Max, it’s a condom, not a pistol.”

“Oh but they share an element of danger,” he winked.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh my God. Just get your ass down here.”

With a deep chuckle Max lowered himself onto me, dropping his hips to mine. He ran his cock up and down my pussy, coating his tip with my slick juices, then he eased his way inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he planted one hand beside my head and the other on my shoulder, holding me in place as he pushed his whole length inside me.

I moaned. So did he.

“Deeper,” I pleaded.

Max lifted my legs so that my ankles were resting on his shoulders. He kissed the inside of my ankle while he rocked his hips. His cock plunged deeper inside of me than ever before. My toes curled. I squeezed my eyes closed. The pressure was almost too intense.

Almost.

“Yes,” I gasped, reaching both hands over my head to grip the sheets. My hands tightened into fists.

Max rolled his hips and drove upward at the end of each thrust.

“I’m coming,” I breathed, my breath hitching in my throat.

Max leaned over me, proving to both of us just how flexible I was as my ankles remained on his shoulders as he kissed me. His hips continued moving in a delicious rhythm as his tongue plunged into my mouth. His lips sealed over mine as a cry escaped me as I came.

He grunted and groaned into my mouth as he came undone as well.

His hips slowed and he rocked back onto his heels, straightening up so my ankles fell from his shoulders. He raked his fingers through his hair and fell onto his side beside me. Then he peered over my shoulder and a smile crept over his face.

I rolled to face him. “What are you smiling about?”

“Merry Christmas, Laura.”

I glanced over at the clock. Seven minutes past midnight. “Merry Christmas, Max.”

Chapter 33

Max

Waking up with Laura on Christmas morning was a big change of pace for me. I was used to spending this day alone. I treated it like any other day other than allowing myself to sleep in. I’d get up and shower and make myself breakfast and coffee. If I was feeling up to it I’d go for a walk or something, but that usually just reminded me that it was Christmas day and I was missing out.

This year was different. I woke with Laura wrapped up in my arms. Her hair was in my mouth but I didn’t mind—the chemical taste of her shampoo and hair products didn’t bother me either. I stayed where I was, too afraid to move for fear of waking her up.

She was sleeping so peacefully. She was facing me and had her left leg draped over my right thigh. Her arms were curled up against her chest and her chin rested on her knuckles.

I kissed her forehead and closed my eyes to listen to the birds chirping outside her bedroom window. As I lay there I wondered what time it was. For all I knew it could be as early as six in the morning. It could also be as late as nine. There was no way to tell. Laura had dark curtains in her room that cast the space into dim light.

Letting my breathing fall into sync with hers, I vowed to wait as long as necessary for her to wake up on her own.

She stirred awake maybe a half hour later. She came to with a soft moan and stretched like a cat in my arms. Once she curled back in on herself after her stretch I kissed her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “Good morning, pretty girl.”

Her lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes which were still heavy with sleep. “Good morning.”

“What time do you have to be at Ella’s?”

She frowned and then stifled a yawn. “Not until noon-ish.”

“So you have time for breakfast and coffee?”

Laura smiled. “Of course I do. What sort of question is that?”

I patted her bare hip. “Alright. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“Do you mind if I shower first?”

“Not at all. Take your time.”

I gave her one last good morning kiss before rolling out of her bed. She stayed under the covers and watched me pull my boxers and jeans on. When I left the bedroom and went downstairs I heard her get out of bed and close the bathroom door.

Downstairs I saw the Christmas tree in her living room that I’d been too distracted to notice last night when we stumbled into her place drunk on each other’s kisses. It was tucked in the corner and unplugged. I walked over and plugged it in. Multi colored lights blinked to life and sent warm light around the living room.

And, for a moment, I thought it looked beautiful.

We enjoyed our morning together. It didn’t last as long as I wanted it to, because it turned out we didn’t get out of bed until almost nine. Laura had to get ready and pack up the gifts she was bringing. I helped her load up her car and kissed her goodbye in the driveway. I watched her pull away as I waited for my driver to pick me up. When he dropped me off at my place, I sent him home with a big chunk of cash and the promise that I wouldn’t need him for the rest of the day so he could relax and enjoy the time with his family. He didn’t have young kids anymore but I still felt guilty for taking him away from his Christmas celebration.

My penthouse had never felt as empty as it did that afternoon.

I passed the time away with a shower and some mindless television while I kept my eye on the clock. When four o’clock finally rolled around I left the penthouse in a hurry and went down to my car. I drove out of the city limits to pick Laura up at the address she’d texted me earlier in the day.

The house I picked her up from was pale yellow and cute as hell. She came out the front door as soon as I pulled up and waved at the family that stood in the doorway saying goodbye. She got in my car with a bright cheery smile, smelling of cider and eggnog.

As she buckled her seatbelt I pulled away from the curb. “How was your afternoon with Ella and her family?”

“It was nice. Low key. Simple. Although honestly, I kind of wish I’d just spent the day with you.”

I smiled and put a hand on her knee as we drove. I wished the same thing. But this thing between us was so fresh and so unpredictable that I didn’t want her to drop all her Christmas plans just to accommodate me. It was better this way.

When we pulled up to the house Laura gasped and leaned forward to peer up at the big white colonial as I drove up the driveway. “Wow. It looks exactly the same as I remember.”

I put the car in park at the top of the drive behind Hayden’s Escape. “I know. Keith keeps it just how Mom did. Christmas lights, tree and all.”

“It’s beautiful.”

I nodded as I looked up at my mom’s house. “It is.”

She gave me a sad smile. “Christmas must be hard without her.”

She didn’t need to clarify that she was talking about my mom. I nodded. “It is. But having you here makes it easier. This year has been better than the others. Without a doubt.”

Laura reached over and grazed my cheek with her thumb. “I hope we can keep that theme going.”

“Me too.”

She patted my cheek. “Come on. They’re waiting for us. We should go inside.”

She made to get out of the car, but I caught her by the elbow. “Hold on. I have something for you before we go inside.”

She turned back to me. Her expression was adorable as her features all scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

I reached into the back seat where a present the length and width of my forearm was waiting. It was wrapped in metallic gold paper with a red velvet bow. “I know this is a bit random but I wanted you to have these.”

“Max—I didn’t get you anything.”

“No, it’s not really about Christmas. I would have bought you these whether it was Christmas or not. Just open it.”

Laura looked from my eyes to the present in her hands. Slowly, she pulled the bow apart and began peeling open the paper. Once the gold wrapping was off a navy blue box with silver lettering was revealed. She was confused when she lifted the lid and saw a pair of silver scissors sitting upon a white silk underlay.

She looked up at me. “They’re beautiful, Max. But I don’t think I understand.”

I chuckled. “I know. It’s odd. But I got them for your ribbon cutting ceremony.”

“My what?”

“Your ribbon cutting ceremony. You know. For when you open the children’s home. You can’t just use ordinary old scissors for something as amazing as that. You have to do the moment justice. When I saw these I knew they had to be yours.”

Laura shook her head slowly and ran her fingers over the blades of the scissors. When she looked up at me her eyes were glistening with tears. “Thank you.”

I blinked. “Oh Lord, please don’t cry.”

She laughed and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry. This is just really sweet. I’m speechless, Max. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“I love them,” she said, as she leaned across the console to give me a kiss. “Now let’s go see your family.”

Laura got out of the car and I hurried to follow as she cut across the driveway and made her way along the path at the front of the house. We stepped up on the front step and I knocked on the door.

Seconds later it was opened by Catherine, who threw her arms around Laura the minute she laid eyes on us. Then she came and hugged me tightly, too.

“Merry Christmas, Catherine,” I said, squeezing her firmly.

“Come in,” she said, stepping back inside the house and motioning for us to come in. Laura stepped in first and took off her shoes. I came in after her and closed the door behind me. As I stepped out of my boots Catherine took Laura by the hand and pulled her down the hall to the kitchen.

I followed and Laura looked back at me over her shoulder, a small smile playing on her lips.

We emerged in the kitchen, which was decked out in full Christmas mode, only to find Hayden and Keith bent over the turkey.

Both of them came over and gave us a hug.

Keith held Laura at arm’s length when they broke apart. “It’s so good to see you, Laura. You’ll have to catch us up on everything going on in your life. Max has told us you’re involved with some pretty incredible things. It sounds like you’ve become an amazing woman. Not that you weren’t already amazing when we met before.”

“Are you kissing my ass so you get invited to some of my events, Keith?” Laura asked playfully.

Keith threw his head back and laughed. My sister and Hayden laughed too.

And that was why I loved her.

She lit up the room. She made people laugh. It was second nature to Laura to say the perfect thing at the right time in order to bring joy to everyone around her. Including me.

I paused and looked over to Laura as she accepted a glass of wine from Hayden. My brain had just caught up with my thoughts.

I was in love with Laura Wessex.

“Max, you want a glass of wine?” Hayden asked.

I nodded. “Fill her up.”

Hayden handed me a glass of wine and we all stood around in the kitchen and talked. Laura told them everything about her foundation and her plans to open the children’s home. I listened attentively, feeling blessed just to be in her presence. I caught my sister looking over at me a few times but ignored it. My attention was focused on my girl.

We moved to the dining room table when dinner was ready. By that time we’d all had at least two glasses of wine. Conversation flowed effortlessly and laughter floated through the room almost in tune with the Christmas songs playing in the background.

Before any of us dug in to the feast Keith cleared his throat and lifted his wine glass. “Here’s to a very Merry Christmas with family and friends. And to our beloved Valerie, who I know would have been overjoyed to see her boy sitting here with Laura by his side. She is in our hearts today. Merry Christmas, Valerie.”

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” I said under my breath before sipping my wine.

Laura reached over and rested her hand over mine on my knee. She gave it a squeeze before saying, “Valerie told me once that she started her Christmas shopping in July. Is that true?”

Keith chuckled and nodded. “Quite true. I think she bought Catherine a Christmas gift three weeks after Christmas one year and hid it in the back of our closet for eleven months.”

“Really?” Laura asked, her eyes widening with surprise. “And I thought I over prepared for the holidays.”

Catherine shook her head. “Nobody’s got anything on my Mom. She started her Christmas lists on the beach in the summertime.”

“I love it,” Laura giggled, looking around at the others. “Tell me more.”

So they did. We all did. We shared stories about my mother preparing Christmas dinner. We told her about the time she burned the turkey and locked herself in the bathroom to cry for twenty minutes while Keith scrambled to cut off all the charred pieces of the bird. We told her about our mother staying up into the wee hours of the morning to bake enough Christmas cookies to send me and Catherine off to school with enough for all the other kids. We told her about how my mom had a massive pair of men’s boots she would wet the soles of and walk across the living room carpet with to convince me and Catherine—and later, Hayden—that Santa had been in our house on Christmas Eve.

It worked every time.

Sharing the stories lifted a weight off my shoulders I hadn’t known was there. Talking about my mother so openly felt good. Like therapy. And, for the briefest moment, when everyone was laughing hysterically and tears were stinging the corners of my eyes, I realized that for the first time since I was a kid I was feeling Christmas joy. And even though my mother was no longer with us, she was still a part of it.

And it was all Laura’s doing.

As I sat beside her and listened to her laughter, I knew I owed her a debt I could never repay. She had saved me from another Christmas filled with misery and grief. She’d showed me how to see the good that remained. There were still people here I loved and who loved me, and we had all lost my mother.

Now we were finally at a place where we could remember her and smile. And it felt good.

Finally, I felt like myself again.

Chapter 34

Laura

I curled one leg under myself in the corner of Keith’s chestnut brown sofa. I had the prime spot right in the corner of the sectional, and as soon as my ass hit the cushion Max had pulled the red blanket on the back of the sofa down and draped it over my lap.

We were all sitting around with our mugs of eggnog and rum. It smelled like mulled spices in the house and the feeling of contentment was heavy in the air as we all sat near the Christmas tree swapping holiday stories.

Catherine was sitting on my other side. She was telling a story of her favorite Christmas as a child, and was so animated she had to put her eggnog down for fear of spilling it. “I woke up at five in the morning that year. I was—I want to say six or maybe seven. That prime age when Christmas is the most exciting. I got out of bed and opened my bedroom door, which was a huge no-no. On Christmas morning we were supposed to stay in our bedrooms until seven o’clock. Then we could go wake Mom and Dad up so they could make their coffee. We were absolutely not allowed to set foot in the living room until coffee was made and the adults were ready to face the day.”

I couldn’t stop myself from giggling. “That sounds like sheer torture for a child.”

“It was,” Max chuckled beside me.

Catherine grinned at us. “It wasn’t that bad. I mean, looking back I see why Mom had it as a rule. It made the morning last longer. And it taught us patience.”

“So you opened the bedroom door?” Hayden encouraged, wanting to hear the rest of the story.

Catherine nodded and picked it up from there. “Yes. And I listened carefully to make sure they were still sleeping before I went down the hall to Max’s room. I let myself in, only to find that he was already awake. He had his bedside lamp on and was reading a book to pass the time. Do you remember, Max?”

Max smiled before taking a sip of eggnog. “I remember.”

“I tried to talk him into sneaking downstairs with me. Just to get a look at the Christmas tree and all the presents Santa left. But Max wouldn’t have any of it. He refused to go down there, and he told me if I went without him he’d wake up Mom and Dad.”

“What a tattle tale,” Keith snickered.

Max didn’t say anything. He watched Catherine with a faint smile on his lips as she stared at the Christmas tree before us. Her eyes were alight with all the colors and her cheeks rosy from the wine and the rum. “When I tried to drag him out of bed he took me by the arm, looked directly at me and said that Mom and Dad would be so sad if I spoiled the surprise by looking when they weren’t there.”

My eyes wandered over to Max. He was looking down at his lap and I could feel him sifting through his own memories and lingering on that one. “Mom would have known you were faking it if you’d seen it before she came down with us.”

“She would have,” Catherine nodded. “And, once I understood why I had to wait, Max pulled me up onto his bed and read me stories to pass the time. For two hours. He never once complained. He just did it.”

“That’s so sweet,” I said, leaning my head back against the sofa cushions.

Catherine laughed. “Yes, that was one of his sweet moments, for sure. But there are other Christmas stories where he tried to steal my presents. But you know, that’s just how siblings are.”

“For the record, I wasn’t trying to steal your presents. I was trying to steal one present,” Max said, holding up a single finger. “I didn’t want the crap Santa brought you. Barbie’s and dolls and clothes. I only wanted—”

“My movie player.”

Max nodded. “Precisely. It was the coolest thing. It was like a mini laptop that you put a DVD in and it played your movie. The battery life barely lasted through a full film, but I thought it was so cool. After we fought over it for ages, I finally got my own.”

“Courtesy of Keith,” Catherine said, nodding to her stepfather.

Keith shrugged a shoulder with a nonchalant grin. “I needed an in with Max when Valerie and I first started seeing each other. We’d been together for, I don’t know, eight months or so when our first Christmas rolled around. Valerie wanted to spend it together, but was worried about how the kids would take it. I was worried about Hayden, too. He’d spent his first eight years as an only child and now all of a sudden he was going to have to share his Christmas with two other kids. I sort of bought Max off with the DVD player.”

“It worked,” Max said.

We all laughed, and then Keith said, “Sort of. It at least got my foot in the door.”

I finished off my eggnog. Max took the mug from my hands and leaned forward to put it on the coffee table. I thanked him by putting a hand on his shoulder and rubbing it with my thumb. I looked around at the others. “What was Christmas like when the five of you were all together?”

They all turned to look at each other as if to decide who should answer. Catherine picked up the lead. “Honestly? They were pretty great. I mean, it was easier for me because I was younger than Max. So I got used to the new normal pretty quickly. Mom still kept all the same rules in place, even when we were teenagers. We couldn’t come downstairs to look at the living room and the wake up time moved from seven to eight.”

“Ugh. I was used to getting up the minute I woke up and running down the hall to get my dad,” Hayden said, clicking his tongue. “Adjusting to Valerie’s way was not easy. I was an impatient kid.”

“You came around to it well,” Keith said, rolling to his feet and patting his son’s knee. “I think we all came together and started some pretty special traditions. Hopefully, you’ll choose to pass some of them down to your families. That would be a really great way to honor Valerie’s memory.”

Keith collected the empty eggnog mugs from everyone and nodded toward the kitchen. “I’m going to go get started on those dishes. You kids sit and catch up. I won’t be long.”

Hayden stood up too. “I’ll come help you, Dad. I’ve spent enough time with these clowns.”

We all erupted in playful harassment as Hayden followed after his father and shot us a goofy smile.

It was just me, Max, and Catherine in the living room now. Catherine shifted around on the sofa so she could cross her legs and face me. “Were you able to talk to your parents today? Whereabouts are they right now?”

“Yeah, they called this afternoon. From Spain.”

“Spain?” Catherine repeated. “How lovely! Are they having the best time?”

I nodded. “It sounds like they’re really loving every second of it, although my dad did say that today had been really hard for them. They were wandering the streets and seeing all the families together, and wishing they were here with me for the holidays. But, they’re already looking forward to next year and I think that’s the best way to look at it. Besides, I told them I was surrounded by good people today and that made him feel better.”

Catherine beamed. “I’m glad you came.”

“So am I. Seriously. Thank you all so much for making room for me.”

Catherine stood up with a cheeky smile. “Oh, Laura. There will always be room for you here. Now, you two enjoy some alone time. It’s been a busy day. I’m going to make sure those buffoons don’t put any dishes in the dishwasher that specifically say they are not dishwasher safe.”

“Try to keep them out of the rum while you’re in there!” Max hollered after her. “I noticed Hayden’s got a bit of a swagger to his walk that you and I both know isn’t natural.”

We could hear Catherine’s giggles as she rounded the corner to the kitchen.

I sighed and settled deeper into the corner of the sofa, inching my butt closer to the edge of the cushion. Max lifted my legs and draped them over his lap to run his fingers up and down my shins. Then he closed his hand over my socked foot and cracked my toes like he used to when we were at school. I giggled and pulled away, but he grabbed the other foot and did the same to that one. Even though I played like I didn’t like it, I secretly did.

A yawn caught me by surprise and I covered my mouth.

“Tired?” Max asked.

“All of a sudden, yeah I am. Must be all the turkey, and the wine. And the rum. My goodness, it’s been a day of indulgence, hasn’t it?”

“It’s been a good day.”

“A wonderful day,” I said, twisting around to sit up and plant one knee on either side of Max’s legs. As I straddled him I cupped his face in my hands. “This has been my favorite December to date, Max.”

He ran his hands up and down my back before letting them rest on my hips. “Mine too.”

I listened to the clamor of dishes in the kitchen sink, and the sound of someone tearing tinfoil to cover the food. Hayden’s laughter cut through the room and then Keith and Catherine started to laugh too. Knowing I was entirely alone with Max for the moment at least, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

He ran his hands up my back and sunk his fingers in my hair. I tasted spiced rum on his lips. I rolled my hips in his lap, feeling him grow stiff between my thighs. I chuckled into his mouth and he grinned. I nipped at his bottom lip and then kissed him there and on his cheek. “I’m so happy I could spend Christmas with you, Max.”

There was so much more I wanted to say besides that. I wanted to tell him why it made me so happy, but I wasn’t quite willing to put words to my feelings yet. I really cared for him. Like, really cared. He was the first thing I thought of when I woke up in the morning after dreaming about him all night long. He was constantly on my mind throughout the day. I longed for his company as much as I longed for his body, and when I was with him the rest of the world faded away. I had never in my life felt as present as I did when I was with him.

I knew what all these things meant. I was falling for him. As a matter of fact, there was a chance I had already fallen, and that scared the hell out of me. Now would be the perfect moment to tell him how I felt. Here, in the warm glow of the Christmas tree, with hearts as full as our bellies, was the perfect time. But I couldn’t do it.

Not yet.

Instead I said, “I’m proud of you, Max.”

He cocked his head to the side as he tucked some of my hair behind my ear.

Heat burned my cheeks as I smiled and looked down and played mindlessly with one of the buttons of his dark red shirt. “You’re a changed man. I’m sorry I was so hard on you when we first ran into each other at the fundraiser. I thought you would be the same Max you used to be. I was mistaken. You’re so much more than that.”

The smile he gave me wasn’t the same one I’d seen on his face all day. There was something sad in it. But it was gone as soon as it appeared and he placed two fingers under my chin, lifting my face and guiding me to him to kiss my lips and the tip of my nose.

My stomach tightened with anxiety. I was pretty sure I’d said the wrong thing. His sad smile had been brief, but I’d seen it, and something was bothering him. Afraid to make things worse I kept my mouth shut, except to take one more opportunity to whisper, “Merry Christmas Max.”

He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Merry Christmas, Laura.”

Chapter 35

Max

There were three missed calls from Laura on my cell phone at ten-thirty at night on New Year’s Eve.

She’d invited me to a party with some of her colleagues at the foundation, along with some of her other friends. Apparently there would be some people there from school who I might know. When she invited me the day after Christmas, I told her I’d go. But every day since then I’d wondered if it was the right move to make.

Her words to me on Keith’s couch on Christmas Day had been stuck in my head ever since. She thought I was a changed man. She thought I was someone good. Someone who belonged in her life. And I could see in her eyes that she was falling.

Just like I was.

On her third call she left me a voicemail. As I stood in front of my living room window looking out at the city lights I lifted the phone to my ear. Her voice filled the speaker and in the background I could hear music and laughter. The party sounded fun.

“Max! Where are you? I’m excited to see you. The party is well under way and people are looking forward to meeting you. You’re not going to believe it. They brought in live entertainment and a DJ. Please get here before midnight. I want you to be the person beside me when we roll into twenty-nineteen. Call me!”

I deleted the voicemail with a sigh.

I’d told her I would go, and therefore I needed to be there. I couldn’t no show on her. That would be a real dick move.

So I called my driver and had him pick me up half an hour later, giving me time to change into a black on black suit and a pair of sleek dress shoes. I slicked my hair back, grumbled to myself about how I should have shaved my thickening stubble, and left the penthouse with a chip on my shoulder.

The drive to the party was somber. My driver was quiet. He could probably sense the storm brewing in me and knew better than to ask questions. He dropped me off at the curb outside the house of the party’s host, and told me he’d be back whenever I needed a ride home. I thanked him, got out of the car, and stood on the sidewalk looking up at the house as he drove away.

It was a typical modern LA home with sharp angles and big windows. A massive palm tree in the front yard was wrapped with white twinkle lights all the way up the curved trunk. Up on the roof, which was a massive patio, I could hear music and laughter. Lights danced around up there and I knew that was where Laura would be.

I walked up to the front door and let myself in without knocking.

The place was packed. People were all over the place; on the stairs, in the doorways, in front of the massive floor to ceiling brick fireplace in the middle of the grand foyer. I made my way up the stairs and cut a path down the hall to the second set of stairs that led up to the roof.

I emerged topside and was instantly bombarded with noise. People bumped into me with their drinks in hand as they tried to squeeze by me to get to the door. I ignored their apologies as I spotted Laura standing off to the side by the railing talking to a young woman. They were smiling, but Laura kept checking her phone.

She’d been waiting on me for two hours.

Guilt tickled my gut as I crossed the dance floor and approached her.

She spotted me when I was just a couple feet away. Her face lit up and a beautiful smile spread across her lips. She hurried over and gave me a great big hug, and then stood back to look me over. “Wow, Max. You look great. I’m so happy you made it.”

I adjusted my suit jacket and nodded, looking around. “This is bigger than I was expecting.”

“Me too. You remember Ella?” Laura gestured to the young woman standing beside her.

Ella’s big green doe eyes and heart shaped lips were familiar. She gave me a warm smile and tucked a strand of light brown hair behind her ear. “Nice to see you again, Max. It’s been a long time.”

“You too, Ella. You both look beautiful.”

Laura was ravishing. Her dress was a modest length, just to above the knees, and had long sleeves. The neckline was wide, exposing a lot of chest, and the back was open and plunged all the way down, revealing her sexy back dimples. The fabric was black and covered in glitter. Every movement she made was dazzling.

“Thank you,” Laura smiled. “Do you want a drink? It’s an open bar.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You’re sure? It’s New Year’s Eve!”

“I said, I’m good.”

Laura blinked and took a half a step backward. “Um. Okay. Is everything alright, Max?”

“It’s fine. Where’s that DJ you were talking about?”

Laura looked around the rooftop. She peered over toward the stage in the corner where the DJ booth was set up and frowned. “I’m not sure. He was here a minute ago. Maybe he needed a bathroom break or something. He’s been playing for the last hour or so.”

“Playing?” I chuckled. “Come on, it’s not hard being a DJ. I thought this party was supposed to be off the hook.”

Laura glanced at Ella, who gave her a small shrug.

“What was that look for?” I asked.

Laura licked her lips. Then she handed Ella her drink. “Ella, can you excuse me for a minute?”

Ella, her lips drawn in a frown, nodded. “Um. Sure. I’m going to go mingle.” Ella continuously looked back over her shoulder at us as she slipped away to join the rest of the party goers.

Laura took my hand and guided me away from the crowd. We stood by the railing and she rested one hand atop it, leaning into it casually as she peered up into my face. “Are you okay, Max? Did I do something?”

“What would you have done?” I asked. I could feel how abrasive I was being, and it made my skin crawl, but the words just spilled out of me and once they were out I couldn’t cram them back in.

Laura looked away from me and down to the street below. She was thinking. Was she trying to answer her own question? She wouldn’t find an answer. She hadn’t done anything. When she finally looked back up at me my heart ached. I could see hurt written all over her features. And confusion. “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“Don’t understand what?”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?” I pressed.

“Like—” she broke off and shook her head.

“Like what, Laura? What were you going to say?”

She met my eye and held my gaze. Her jaw tightened with determination. “Like how you used to be. Immature. Mean.”

I laughed. She nearly recoiled. “I never stopped being those things, Laura. You just wanted me to be different from the guy you used to know, so you blurred the edges a little. I’m the same guy I’ve always been, Laura. I hate to break it to you.”

“But you’re not. You’ve grown. Changed. We both have. It’s only natural for us to—”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m the same guy. When you came back into my life I started acting how you wanted me to act. I became who you wanted me to be. You always need something to fix, Laura. Whether that’s the kids you work with or the guy you’re dating, you’re obsessed with always having a project. I’m done with pretending to be someone I’m not.”

“Max—”

“The only reason you’re with me is so you can slap a pretty bow on me once you’ve made me into what you want.”

“Max. That’s not true and you know it. Are you drunk?”

“No. I haven’t had a single drink.”

“Can we go home so we can talk about this? I’m confused. I don’t understand what happened. Everything was fine—”

“No, it wasn’t. I just let you think it was.”

Her bottom lip trembled. Her eyes grew glassy. But then she shook her head as if to shake away her emotions and she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry that my actions came across as me trying to change you. It wasn’t my intention. I think—I think maybe I misread things. I didn’t want to put you in this position, Max. I care about you and—”

“No. You don’t. You care about the guy you wish I was.”

“That’s not true,” she whispered. This time she couldn’t stop the tremble of her bottom lip, or the tear that escaped. She wiped it away hurriedly like she could pretend it hadn’t happened.

I wanted her to yell at me. God knew I deserved it. I deserved to have her scream at me, to hit me, to tell me how much of a worthless piece of shit I was. But she wouldn’t crack. She wouldn’t even bend. Her kindness extended too far for that.

Laura took a shaky breath and turned away from me to brace herself against the railing. “What does this mean, Max? Did you come here tonight to end things between us?”

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

She didn’t look at me as she wiped more tears from her cheeks. “I don’t know anymore.”

Someone announced that it was ten minutes to midnight. Laura hung her head and her hair fell all around her face, blocking her from my view in a curtain of blonde.

My heart screamed at me to apologize. To tell her the truth—that I was scared I would never be enough for her and that she deserved so much more. But my brain told me to walk away. Leave her to be loved by someone better than Max Miller.

And that is what I did. Without a word I turned and walked away. I don’t know if she heard me leave, but I didn’t look back. I locked eyes with Ella when I reached the door to go back inside.

I think she saw my wall crumble when I wrenched the door open and shouldered someone out of my way. I had to get the hell out of there before I broke.

Chapter 36

Laura

I hadn’t showered when Ella came to my door on New Year’s Day. She arrived at four in the afternoon, and when I opened the door her eyes roamed up and down the length of my body, and she winced. “Wow. You weren’t lying when you said you were having a bad day,” she said as I stepped aside to let her in.

I closed and locked the door behind her and then we walked down the hall into my kitchen, where she put down the red canvas bag she’d been carrying.

I sighed. “I know. I’m a mess.”

“Is that last night’s make up on your face?”

I nodded.

Ella let out a horrified gasp. “Oh, girl. No. We have to fix that. Come on. You go upstairs and have a hot shower. Take your time. I’ll meet you back down here and I’ll fix us something to eat.”

“I’m fine in my PJ’s and—”

Ella shook her head firmly. “I said go upstairs and shower.”

Had I not felt so broken and hollow I might have laughed. But I was broken. I was hollow. And I couldn’t even muster a smile. So I said, “Yes ma’am,” before dragging my feet to the stairs. I went up and locked myself in the bathroom. Turning on the hot water, I stripped out of my pajamas and got in the shower.

The water pelted my skin and it felt really good. I scrubbed myself clean and emerged feeling a little more like myself. I toweled off, slapped on some deodorant and moisturizer, then went down the hall to my bedroom to put on a pair of sweats and a black tee.

Then I went back down and joined Ella.

She was just sliding a pan into my stove when I entered the kitchen. She closed the door and straightened up. “Feel a bit better?”

I nodded and slid onto a bar stool at my island. “Yes. You were right. Thanks.”

Ella opened my fridge. “I wasn’t sure what sort of afternoon this was going to be, so I brought over some bubbly,” she pulled out a bottle of champagne. “I also grabbed soda if you were hung over and didn’t want to go near the booze.”

“Champagne please.”

Ella popped the cork and poured us each a glass. She slid me mine and I took a sip. It was the first thing I’d put in my body all day, save for the glass of water I drank when I first woke up.

“What are you making?” I asked, nodding at my stove.

“Brie and baguette with jalapeno jelly and crushed pecans. Your favorite.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“Stop it. No I’m not. You deserve all the love and care in the world, Laura. I’m sorry about last night. I wish there was something I could do to fix it,” she said.

I tried to smile and failed. Every time I thought about Max and how he had treated me last night I got emotional. My throat started to ache, and then burn, and before I knew it I was in tears. And I wasn’t a crier. I was the polar opposite of a crier in fact. I held onto my emotions tighter than I held on to the hem of my skirt in a windstorm.

Just talking about him now was already making my throat hurt. “It’s alright, Ella. Just having you here helps.”

“Have you heard from him?”

I shook my head.

“Do you want to?”

I took a big gulp of champagne. “I don’t know.”

Ella leaned on the counter across from me. One thing I really appreciated about my best friend was that she knew the difference between sympathy and pity. “Are you surprised that you feel this bad?”

Her question caught me a little off guard, and when I thought about it for a minute, I nodded. “Yes. I mean. I never really thought about how I’d feel if things ended between us because, well, I didn’t think they were going to, I guess. But I never would have expected to feel like this. Like he kicked me in the stomach and then stole everything that brought me joy and ran off with it all.”

“You’re in love with him, Laura.”

I looked up sharply. “What?”

“You are. Girl, I know you better than anyone else. I could see it all over you. You fell for him. Hard. Maybe it was because you guys knew each other so well from back in the day and it was easy for you to go back to that place. Regardless, your feelings were very real. You’re going to have to accept that you’re not going to bounce back right away.”

“Great.”

Ella chuckled. “I know that’s not what you want to hear. But the sooner you accept that, the better.

“I’m just so confused,” I whispered, burying my face in my hands. The waterworks were about to start up again and I desperately didn’t want that to happen. Once they started it would be nearly impossible to stop.

“I know, babe.”

“Why would he do that to me? Why would he wait until New Year’s Eve of all nights, and then be a total ass about the whole thing? He hadn’t acted like that once since we started seeing each other again. I wasn’t making it all up in my head. I swear I wasn’t. He was different. And—and now I feel terrible for making him feel like I was forcing him to be that way.”

“You can’t force anyone to be any way,” Ella said.

“Here we go. Wise old wizard Ella to the rescue.”

My best friend smiled at me. “You didn’t force Max to be someone else. If he interpreted that, it’s on him, not you.”

I sighed. “I just don’t know what made him snap like that. I keep going over everything in my mind trying to figure out where it all went wrong, and nothing makes sense.”

“Max is under a lot of pressure, Laura. He always has been. And he deals with it differently than some people. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and the only way he knows how to protect himself from hurt is to keep people at arm’s length. Am I wrong?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. She wasn’t wrong. Max had been like that for as long as I’d known him. I knew a lot of it was tied up in the fact that his dad walked out on him and his family. He had abandonment and trust issues from that. Maybe things were harder for him now that he’d lost his mother, too. “You’re not wrong, Ella.”

“I didn’t think so. Maybe he just panicked? Maybe things were moving too fast between you two and he got cold feet?”

“But he seemed so happy—we were both so happy. I wasn’t imagining it. I swear.”

“I don’t think you were either, babe.”

“Then why would he just—” I broke off and shook my head as the tears came.

Ella walked around the counter and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Just let it out, Laura. You need to let it out.”

I buried my face in my hands when the first sob came. Ella held on to me and I leaned into her as I let the grief and confusion wash over me. I let it all consume me and swallow me up. Ella didn’t say a word. She waited until the crying wound down and I was able to get myself back under control.

I wiped at my eyes and sniffled. Ella grabbed me tissues from the box on one of the end tables in my living room and brought it over to me.

“Thank you,” I said, after blowing my nose.

“Feel a bit better?”

I shrugged. “A bit.”

The timer on the stove went off and Ella hurried over to it. She pulled on my oven mitts, opened the door, and pulled out the tray of cheese and bread. It smelled heavenly. I inhaled a deep breath as she set it on the stove and pulled the mitts off. She turned off the stove and grabbed plates down from my cupboard. “I was thinking we could watch a stupid movie and stuff ourselves full of cheese and carbs. Then we’ll figure out what to do from there.”

“Sounds perfect.”

I slid off my stool and grabbed one of my wooden cutting boards. Ella brought the pan of cheese and bread out into the living room behind me. We put the hot tray on top of the wooden cutting board on my coffee table, and we both took the pillows off my couch to sit on while we ate. We chose a goofy comedy and didn’t pay much attention to it while we ate and talked.

For a while I was able to forget about how heartbroken I was. The movie and Ella were a good distraction. I was almost feeling normal when the movie ended. Then the sadness crept back in.

Ella put her hand on my knee. “It’s okay, babe. It will get better.”

I nodded. “I just wish he’d let me in. Let me help him.”

“You can’t help everyone. No matter how much you want to.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

I bit my bottom lip.

Ella chuckled softly. “Max is a grown ass man. If he wasn’t ready to be loved by a woman like you, that’s not your problem, your doing, or yours to fix. It’s his. But I don’t for one second think he’s a bad guy. I think he’s lost. And I think he’s afraid of getting you mixed up in his mess.”

“I wanted to be part of that mess.”

Ella shrugged. “Maybe it’s not over.”

I sighed. “All I wanted was to show him a new way to see things. To see people. I wanted to show him how to let the joy in. And I thought he was finally getting to a place where he could do that. How could I have misread all the signs?”

“Laura. Stop it. There probably weren’t any signs to read.”

I didn’t say anything, but I knew that wasn’t true. The first sign had been on Christmas night, when I told him he’d changed. That’s when it all started to unravel. I was sure of it.

I stood up. “I’m getting some Christmas cookies out of the freezer so I can eat my feelings.”

“Bring me some,” Ella said. “You’ll need help eating them all.”

“Damn straight I will.”

Chapter 37

Max

I was flipping through a contract for a new client I’d been in contact with for the last two months. They’d finally decided they wanted to use Nova Corp for their security software and I needed to have it all signed by the end of the day. My brain was pounding against the inside of my skull and I was in no mood to be going through such a thick document.

I’d been in no mood for anything for the last week, actually. Ever since I left Laura on that rooftop.

The guilt was crippling. As was my anger, shame and embarrassment. I’d behaved like the ass that I was, and in the process had hurt the girl I was in love with.

I tried to convince myself that it was for the best. Laura would be better off without me in her life.

But, as the days passed, that thought seemed to make less and less sense. Maybe that was because my own sadness was distorting how I felt about the whole thing. I had to stick to my guns and trust that I made the right call.

The five intern kids had been on my case all week about where Laura was. I hadn’t heard from her and had no idea if she still planned on coming in to check on them. I assumed that if she did want to pop by it wouldn’t be for a while still. I’d hurt her so badly she would never want to set foot in this office.

So, when they asked where she was, I gave them weak hollow answers and said things like, ‘She’ll be here when she’s here,’ and ‘It’s only been a few days.’ Their suspicion was evident though, so I avoided them by spending my days in my office rather than out on the floor.

It was three in the afternoon on the fifth of January when Casey came and knocked on my door. She let herself in and came to sit in front of me as I flipped through the contract. She sat down with her knees pressed together and waited for me to look up at her, like she needed permission to speak.

“What’s up?” I asked.

She crossed her legs. “I just wanted to come and check in on you.”

“Check in on me?”

“Yes. You’ve been a bit out of sorts since the holidays and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I smirked. “I don’t pay you to be my mother, Casey. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine.”

“I’m not coming to you as your employee, Max. I’m concerned for you as a friend.”

“You don’t need to be.”

“So you keep saying.”

“Then why aren’t you listening?”

Casey sighed and folded her arms. “Why are you being so evasive?”

“I’m not being evasive.”

“Yes, you are. Where’s Laura? What happened between you two? Things were great before Christmas and then all of a sudden she’s not coming around anymore and you lock yourself in your office every day. I’m not stupid, Max. I can see right through you.”

“Then you’ve already put all the pieces of the puzzle back together, Casey. What do you want? A gold star?”

“Fuck you too, Max.”

I blinked at her.

She pointed a finger at me. “Listen. Just because things aren’t going well for you does not mean you get to push me around. Now put your damn pen down and look at me while I’m talking to you.”

I put the pen down and flipped the contract closed.

Casey bristled under my gaze. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry for acting so rude.”

“Good.”

She clearly wanted more from me, but I didn’t know what else there was to say. So I came clean. “Laura and I broke up on New Year’s.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because things weren’t working out, so I ended it. It’s personal.”

“Fair enough,” she said. But she was looking at me like she didn’t believe me—like she was analyzing me for a crack in the foundation she could squeeze through. “I only hope you didn’t sabotage the best thing that’s happened to you in years.”

I rubbed my forehead and shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know what else you want me to say here, Casey. I ended things. They weren’t working. I had my own reasons and I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll be alright. You don’t have to treat me like a heartbroken teenage boy.”

“And you don’t have to push everyone away who’s trying to cheer you up.”

“Fine. I won’t.”

Casey stood up. “Good,” she nodded.

“Anything else?”

“No.” Casey moved toward the door.

“Oh, Casey?”

“Yes?” She said, turning back to me. Her eyes were lit up like she thought I might actually come clean and confide in her. It was almost cute.

But I wasn’t coming clean. I was being her boss. “For future reference, don’t ever say ‘fuck you’ to me again, alright? I’m your friend, yes, but I’m also your boss. And that behavior can’t be tolerated.”

She turned bright pink. “I understand. Sorry.”

“We’ll scratch it from the record.”

She bit her bottom lip before twisting the door handle and slipping out of my office. She was still a bright shade of pink when she went and sat down at her desk. I called her desk phone. She answered on the second ring. “Yes?” She wouldn’t look up at me through my office window.

“Thanks for giving me a kick in the ass. I needed the tough love.”

She smiled and finally lifted her gaze to me. “That’s what I’m here for. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

We got off the phone and I went back to flipping through the thirty-five page contract in front of me. I initialed all the necessary points and finally slapped my signature at the end. Then I went out and handed it to Casey to scan into the computer and email back to the client.

While I was out of my office I made a point to wander around. I ducked into the kitchen where I grabbed myself a bottle of water from the fridge and made small talk with the few employees who were in there. I asked them about their holidays and they asked about mine. I kept my answers short and positive. They didn’t all need to know everything had fallen apart for me and Laura on New Year’s. That was our business.

After catching up with some people in the break room, I did a lap of the office and chatted everyone up to boost morale. People were sluggish after the holidays and the start of a new year was always a bit tedious at Nova Corp. We had to do a lot of maintenance work on the software for existing clients, so a lot of the excitement of writing code was eliminated while we went in and updated old lines and completed updates to meet the requests of the clients.

This would last until February.

I was making my way back down the hall and heading to my office when Casey called my name and nodded at a young woman standing in front of her desk with a manila envelope.

It was Ella.

I walked over to her. “Ella. Hi. Is everything alright?”

She nodded and handed me the envelope. “Yes. Just fine. How are you?”

“Alright.”

“These are from Laura. They’re the forms for you to fill out for the kids. Reference forms for potential future employers. This way the kids can start looking for new work and you can bring in other kids to keep the program running. That is, of course, if you plan to keep it going,” she added sourly.

I opened the envelope and pulled one of the sheets of paper halfway out to scan it. It looked straight forward enough, but I could probably write a better reference than what this step by step sheet demanded. I wasn’t going to tell Ella that. She already seemed pissed at me. I slid the paper back into the envelope and ignored her snide comment. “How is Laura doing?”

Casey was sitting at her desk looking back and forth between us. I could hear her bouncing her foot anxiously and willed her to stop.

“She’s struggling,” Ella said.

I nodded.

“You hurt her pretty badly, Max. And ruined a really good thing.”

“I never wanted to hurt her,” I said, but Ella didn’t look convinced. Her expression was as sour as her tone. I sighed. “She’s better off without me anyway.”

Ella rolled her eyes. “That’s just a bullshit excuse and you know it. We all know it. Hell, I’m sure this girl knows it, too. What’s your name?”

Casey, who Ella was gesturing at, stammered, “My name is Casey.”

Ella nodded. “Yeah. Casey knows it. Don’t you?”

“Uh, I don’t think I should get involved,” Casey said.

Ella looked back up at me. “I barely know you, Max, but I know your type. It’s easier for you to hide behind this mean guy exterior you’ve not so expertly crafted than be vulnerable with a woman who is in love with you.”

Casey sucked in a breath.

I barely heard her. My ears were still ringing with that four letter word that had just fallen from Ella’s lips.

“In love?” I asked.

Ella’s eyes widened as she realized what she’d just said. “Shit. Forget I said anything. Just fill out the reference forms and give them to the kids. They’ll bring them to Laura. Okay?”

I nodded. “Alright.”

“See you around, Max,” she said, and then she hurried out the glass doors to the elevator.

Casey and I stared after her until she got on the elevator and disappeared. Then I looked down at my receptionist, who was looking up at me with a cheeky and all knowing smile.

“Shut up,” I said, trying to sound grumpier than I was. My heart was fluttering. My cheeks were straining to stop me from smiling.

“I didn’t say anything,” Casey giggled.

“You thought it.”

“So did you,” she said with a wink.

Chapter 38

Laura

I planted my hands on my hips and looked at the disaster of my living room.

Loose papers were scattered all over the place. Some were pages from my calendar for the New Year. Others were sheets detailing leftover gifts from the Christmas Eve Dinner that I had to do an inventory count on and find somewhere to store. There were forms to sign for the start of the year for my foundation too, and I just couldn’t seem to find the motivation to get any of it done.

I blew a loose strand of hair out of my face and let out a groan, tipping my head back to the ceiling. “Come on, Laura. You can’t pine away over him forever. You have to get shit done.”

But I didn’t want to get shit done. I wanted to spend the day moping around my place feeling sorry for myself like I’d been doing. Ella had been coming over almost every day to check on me, and despite her best efforts, she’d been unable to pry me from the couch or my bed.

I was committed to the horizontal position.

Max had done a number on me. My heart and mind had been blown to smithereens and I had no idea how to pick myself up and start over. I didn’t want to start over. I thought I’d found something that was going to last a long time—maybe even forever.

In hindsight, I knew how idealistic that line of thinking was. Max was unpredictable at best. I should have seen his jumping ship coming from a mile away. But I hadn’t. I’d believed him when he told me he was glad I was back in his life.

I’d fallen for it—hook, line, and sinker. Like a sucker.

I padded across my living room floor and into the kitchen. My socks were bunched up around my ankles and I didn’t bother fixing them. I was wearing loose cotton shorts and a baggy sweater that I hadn’t washed all week. I was a fucking mess.

At least I’d managed to shower this morning. That was my one victory of the day and my nod to Ella’s tireless efforts on my behalf. After all she’d done, the least I could do is not smell bad.

I filled a cup with water and drank the whole thing. Then I refilled it and walked around my kitchen aimlessly. I was about to head upstairs and get back in bed when someone knocked on my door.

I stopped and hung my head. I couldn’t see Ella right now. She’d give me shit for my socks and my sweater and my hair. She’d ask if I’d eaten. She’d make me a sandwich, even if I told her I had. I didn’t have the energy for any of that.

“Go away!” I called, knowing full well she would not.

She knocked again.

“Ugh,” I groaned, dragging my feet to the front door. I unlocked it. “Ella, I can’t do this today. I just want to go to—” I stopped when my eyes fell upon the person on my doorstep. “Max?”

Max was standing before me. He was dressed in blue jeans and a white button up. His leather belt matched his shoes, and he had a black leather jacket thrown on top. He looked good with his hair slicked back. His stubble was short but thick and nicely trimmed.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. I tried to sound angry but I couldn’t muster the energy for it. Instead I sounded weak and tired.

He slid his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“About?”

“Everything.”

“My place is a mess. I’m a mess.”

“I don’t care,” he said simply.

“Fine,” I said, stepping aside and opening my door. “Come on in. Welcome to the shit show.”

Max slid past me and waited as I closed and locked the door. I turned back to him, suddenly self-conscious of what I was wearing and how I looked, forget about my place. He looked me in the eye. “I owe you an apology.”

“Really? I can’t imagine what for.” There was the anger I’d been trying to muster only seconds earlier.

He didn’t back down. “For how I treated you at the party, and how I walked out. I should have just told you what was bothering me when you asked, rather than acting like a child. I fucked up, Laura. And I’m sorry that I hurt you. That wasn’t what I wanted. I thought I was doing right by you.”

“Somehow you thought ripping my heart out and stomping all over it was doing right by me?” I asked incredulously.

“I know how it sounds.”

“Yeah, it sounds mental, Max.”

“I know.”

I sighed and rubbed at my temples. “Why did you come here to tell me this? It doesn’t make me feel better.”

Max surprised me by stepping toward me and grabbing my hands in his. He squeezed firmly. “I have more to say.”

I stared into his bright green eyes. His beautiful eyes. Then I swallowed. Being this close to him was torture. “Say it then.”

“I was scared. That’s why I said all those things. I was scared that things between us were real, and the thing about caring for someone this much is that it hurts too fucking bad to lose them. I didn’t—I couldn’t wrap my head around taking that chance. But it’s worth it for you, Laura. It’s always been worth it for you. I’ll risk it all. I’ll suffer all the pain in the world if it means I can be with you. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since that night in the damn library where you helped my pathetic ass find a textbook. And I’m sorry it took me such a long damn time to say it.”

“You’re in l-love with me?”

Max nodded and lifted my hands up to his lips. He kissed my knuckles. “I am.”

My brain stuttered to a halt. He loved me? Those were the words I’d been hoping to hear from him on New Year’s Eve when everything had gone terribly wrong instead. And now here he was, being honest with me and more vulnerable than he’d ever been in all the time I’d known him.

Some women may have turned him down. Some might have held onto the anger and grief he’d caused them.

But I was in love with him, too. And I’d missed him terribly. And all I’d wanted for this whole past week was to have him back in my life.

And here he was.

He let go of my hands. “I understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, Laura. I can’t take back what I said but I—”

“Shut up,” I said, then threw my arms around his shoulders and pressed my lips to his.

Max remained motionless for a millisecond. Then he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off my feet. I giggled, and his chest rumbled as he laughed, and he set me down on the kitchen island.

I held his face in my hands and kissed him desperately while he sunk his fingers into my hair and pushed it off my face. He pulled away and looked into my eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he said again.

“Hush. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I have you back.”

“I’ll never hurt you again.”

“Max.”

“Yes?”

My smile was so big it hurt my cheeks. “I love you, too.”

He devoured me with more kisses and pushed me down on my back on the counter. He pushed things out of my way, knocking loose papers and my purse to the ground. I didn’t give a damn. He slid his hands up the inside of my sweater and ran them up my stomach.

His palms on my bare flesh felt magical. He cupped my breasts as our kiss deepened. I moaned into his mouth and lifted one knee. Max pushed my sweater up and over my head. My hair got caught up in the tag and we had to break our kiss so he could untangle me. Both of us laughed, already out of breath, and while he pulled my hair free from the tag I began unbuttoning his white shirt.

When my hair was free he shrugged out of his leather jacket and let it fall to the ground. I got his last button undone. His chiseled torso filled my vision as he leaned over me. I traced every muscled ridge of his stomach with my trembling fingertips.

Max kissed my breasts and rolled his tongue over my nipples. I moaned and arched my back. He ran his tongue down the middle of my stomach until he reached the waistband of my shorts. Then he tore them off.

I yelped with surprise. He balled them up and threw them over his shoulder. He left my socks on. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him back to me for more kisses.

It turned out that neither of us could wait much longer. He began undoing his jeans after pulling out a condom. I teased him about being prepared to have sex even though we weren’t together when he’d come over here.

He put a finger across my lips. “Hush, pretty girl.”

I parted my lips and drew his finger into my mouth. He watched with fascination as I sucked his finger. I smiled, amused by the fixation of his gaze. His cock hardened immediately, I could feel it pressed against the back of my thigh.

Max ran his other hand between my legs. I flinched when he grazed my pussy and he chuckled. His finger was still in my mouth when he swirled the finger of his other hand around my clit. It felt so fucking good.

I moaned softly around his finger in my mouth.

Then he entered me, pushing two thick digits into my wet pussy.

“Oh God,” I mumbled, my voice muffled by his finger in my mouth.

He pulled his finger away from my mouth and plunged his hand into my hair, holding me down as he fucked me with his fingers.

I writhed under his grasp but he held fast as he fucked me until I came.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Max grated.

“Me neither.”

He opened the condom wrapper and rolled it on. I propped myself up on my elbows and watched as he eased the tip of his cock into my pussy. He gave it to me nice and slow, letting my body adjust to his thickness, and then once I had all of his length inside me he worked me over with short deep thrusts.

“Fuck,” I whispered, letting my head fall back and closing my eyes. It felt so good. And so right.

Max fucked me on my back until we knocked more things off the counter. Then he pulled out, lifted me up, and sat me down on one of my barstools. I looked back over my shoulder at him as he grabbed me by the hips and pulled my ass over the edge of the stool.

“I’m going to fall off,” I giggled, reaching in front of me to grip the edge of the counter.

“I won’t let you fall,” he said. His voice was thick and hoarse with need. He took his cock and bent at the knees to slide himself back inside me.

This angle was delicious. He buried himself deep, and I let out a gasp of pleasure and hung my head. “Holy shit.”

“You like that, baby?” He cooed, resting his chin on my shoulder.

I nodded. I couldn’t speak. The pressure was too much.

“Tell me how much you like it,” he growled.

I sighed as my body melted against him. I was incapable of answering, which seemed to please him because he chuckled in my ear before nipping at it with his teeth.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said.

I whimpered.

“And your pussy feels so good.”

I arched my back and craned my neck to look at him. He slid a hand under my chin as he fucked me and held my face like that, forcing me to look up at him. Then he kissed me upside down while he drove his cock into my soaking wet pussy.

And I came just like that.

The explosion of wetness pushed Max over the edge. He groaned into my mouth and grabbed my ass with his free hand. I tightened my grip on the counter as his cock swelled inside me with his release, and then when his thrusts slowed I let go and took a shuddering breath as our lips parted.

He pulled out of me.

I was afraid to get off the stool for fear of falling over. My knees were weak and my legs trembled. Surely they would give out if I tried to walk.

Chapter 39

Max

Laura looked fine as hell sitting on the stool. Her ass hung off the edge, and so did her pussy, and I’d been able to get just the right angle to bury myself inside her. She was breathless as she sat up a bit straighter and brushed her hair off her face.

Her cheeks were flushed when she looked over at me and gave me a sweet smile.

I scooped her up in my arms and carried her over to the sofa. She had her arms hooked around my shoulders, so I sat down with her straddling my lap. She planted a couple kisses on my lips and hugged me, crushing her breasts against my chest.

I wrapped my arms around her in a big hug. It felt good to hold her like this—like everything was right in the world again.

When we parted she shifted back a bit. Her bare ass on my thighs was going to make my cock hard again in minutes. She had no idea just how sexy she was and how powerless I was to resist her.

“I want to make it up to you,” I told her.

She cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I want to make up for my behavior.”

“No need, Max. You told me the truth. That’s all I needed. Honestly. It’s all good. I have you back and what matters to me the most.”

I shook my head. “No. I can do more. I’m going to start networking my connections so I can push to find a paid internship for some of your kids at other companies.”

Laura’s eyes widened a bit. “They don’t have any experience.”

“It doesn’t matter. They can learn, and the companies I have in mind have the tools and the finances to take the time to teach them. A lot of very important people owe me favors, Laura. I want to cash them in for those kids. I want to help.”

“Max—I don’t know how to thank you for that.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s the least I can do. If we’re going to do this thing, I want to be there for you and what you’re passionate about. I want to make a difference for these kids, too. It’s—it’s actually felt good helping out.”

Laura smiled and pressed her hands flat to my chest. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been so attracted to you before.”

I chuckled and she ran a finger up my chest. I caught her wrist in one hand. “Good to know what gets you all riled up, pretty girl.”

Her cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink and she tried to pull away.

I held her in place and ran my other hand up her thigh. “Where do you think you’re going? I’m not through with you yet.”

“Oh?”

“Not even close.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“We’ll see. I have a question for you first.”

Laura arched an eyebrow. “Ask away.”

“I’m going to Keith’s for dinner tonight. I’d love it if you came with me. We can start this thing off on the right foot, you and me. As a couple. What do you say?”

Laura smiled. It was the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen on her. “I would like that very much.”

“Good,” I said, inching my hand further up her thigh until I reached the groove of her hip. Then I ran it down the curve to the inside of her thigh. She bit her bottom lip as she stared into my eyes. “But first I want to make you come again. And again. And again.”

Laura rolled her hips toward my hand. “You do that and you might have to carry me over there. That might be a little embarrassing.”

“For you,” I chuckled, running my fingers up her wet slit. Her lips were coated in her own come. My cock twitched. I wished I’d gone to take the rubber off. I considered getting up now, but Laura was looking at me with lust in her eyes and I couldn’t walk away without giving her what she wanted first.

“Max?” She cooed.

“Yes?”

She leaned in and pressed her lips to the side of my neck. She worked her way up to my ear, where she swirled her tongue around my earlobe and then pinched it between her teeth. Her breath on my neck had my cock rock hard in seconds. “Don’t be gentle.”

“Never,” I growled, sliding two fingers inside her.

Laura moaned in my ear. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. She rolled her hips in a circle and then back and forth, riding my fingers. Watching her was a sight to behold. Her lean muscles flexed as she closed her eyes and looked to the ceiling. I bowed my head and kissed her chest and tits, taking them in my mouth one at a time and flicking my tongue over her nipples.

She sighed with pleasure as I pressed my thumb down on her clit.

“Yes!” She cried.

I wrapped my arm around her and held her in place as I fucked her hard. She shrieked and tensed in my arms as her orgasm rocked her. Her muscles trembled and her nails dug into my back as she came all over my fingers.

When she was done she expressed her gratitude in kisses. “Go take that fucking thing off,” she said breathlessly. “When you come back I’m going to taste you.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. She slid off my lap and I padded to her bathroom to wash up. When I returned to the living room she was lying on her back on the sofa with her head hanging off the side. I approached and she opened her mouth wide.

I slid my cock along her tongue.

Laura moaned around my girth. I reached down and stroked her throat as I fucked her mouth. She reached up and gripped my hips, drawing me closer to her so she could take more of me. She was a rock star, and as I fucked her I reached down, pushed her legs apart, and stroked her clit. She was even wetter than before.

I slid my fingers back inside her. She took the full length of my cock in her mouth and held it. I thrust my hips, rocking gently back and forth, and she took it all. Her moan was muffled when she came again, and I knew that my new obsession was going to be making her come every damn night for the rest of my life.

Well, for the nights she’d let me.

I drove us to Keith’s house in my Huayra. Laura held my hand the whole way and gazed out the passenger window. She’d braided her hair back off of her face, claiming she had ‘sex hair’ and couldn’t show up to see my family looking like that. I didn’t know what she was talking about. I thought she looked beautiful.

She’d slapped on a bit of lip gloss and mascara and a pair of little gold hoop earrings, and then got dressed in a pair of black leggings—which made her ass look absolutely phenomenal— and a loose red sweater with a high collar. The black ankle boots she wore were covered in elegant gold buckles and dressed up the outfit.

I couldn’t believe she was my woman.

Parking the car in the driveway, I walked around to her door to open it for her, much to her protest. Then I offered her my arm and we walked up to the front door. I knocked.

Hayden opened the door. When his eyes fell upon Laura his lips stretched in a grin. “Well, hello you two. Come on in.”

“It smells amazing in here,” Laura said, as she unzipped her boots and stepped out of them. She tucked them off to the side.

“My dad is making a new recipe. Crockpot orange chicken.”

“Oh?” Laura said, arching an eyebrow. “Well, if it tastes anything like how it smells, it’ll be a hit.”

“My mouth has been watering all afternoon,” Hayden said. Then he jabbed me in the shoulder with a solid punch.

“Ouch,” I growled, rubbing the aching spot on my shoulder. “What the hell was that for?”

Hayden grinned and glanced at Laura then back to me. “Nothing.”

Laura took my hand and we followed Hayden down the hall to the kitchen. Keith was peering into the crockpot on the counter. He looked up when we came in and smiled. “Laura! Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you too, Keith.”

“I hope you’re hungry. There’s a lot of food and I don’t think my freezer can handle any more leftovers after the holidays.”

“I’m starving actually,” Laura said.

Just then Catherine emerged from the other side of the kitchen. Grabbing some plates from the cupboard, she paused and whispered as she walked by. “I bet the two of you worked up quite the appetite.”

“What?” Laura asked. Her tone gave us away completely—so did the way her cheeks turned ten shades brighter than her sweater.

Catherine snickered and covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

Laura pressed herself into my side and I wrapped an arm around her.

Catherine waved her hand at us, dismissing any reason to be embarrassed. Then she went about getting silverware and glasses. Keith shooed us all out of the kitchen so he could finish preparing everything, and the four of us lingered on the outskirts, talking about our weeks back at work and the start of the New Year. Nobody asked what had happened between us.

I was grateful that.

When we gathered back in the kitchen to fill up our plates, I watched Laura. She was smiling as she watched Hayden and his dad horse around in front of the stove. She caught my eye and I pulled her to my side and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Welcome to the family.”

Epilogue

Laura

One Year Later

I wrung my hands and paced the pavement on the street around the corner from the children’s home.

My children’s home.

This day had been a long time coming. All of the last year had been dedicated to making this dream come true, and I couldn’t have imagined it would ever happen so quickly. But, with Max by my side, things had moved along like a dream.

His abundance of cash helped things along, of course.

He promoted his assistant Casey to be his partner at Nova Corp. She’d been a bit overwhelmed at first, but when he explained that there was no one who knew both the company and him better than she did, she came around to the idea. She didn’t have to do anything in terms of software, but she managed the people and the clients freeing Max up to help me with the children’s home and the new Employment Placement program I’d started.

Max’s paid internship for my kids had been well received by those people who owed him favors in the business world. Each company he reached out to, to a total of thirty six, added five new internship positions to their roster, and within three months there were more open jobs than I had kids.

So we opened it up to other foundations like mine.

Everything was moving along better than I could have hoped. And, with that peace of mind, I’d been able to dedicate almost all of my time and energy to opening Laura’s Haven—my children’s home.

“Laura, quit pacing, you’re stressing me out,” Ella scolded. She was leaning up against the car and watching me walk back and forth. “He’ll be here on time. He’s always on time.”

“I know. I know. He’s just cutting it really close.”

“What else is new?”

I groaned and continued pacing. Ella reached out and grabbed my arm. She took me by the shoulders and made me face her. “Take a deep breath, babe. This is your day, okay? If Max is three minutes late we will wait for him. We’re on nobody’s time but yours. You hear me? Soak it all in. You’ve been working so hard for this. We all have.”

I closed my hands over hers. “Thank you. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Everyone is here. Your Mom and Dad. Your kids. Max’s family. Hell, when I looked they had the whole street closed down.”

“Oh God,” I breathed, covering my eyes with my hands as nerves swirled in my gut.

Ella laughed at me. “It will be fine. Oh, look! Here he comes!”

I let my hands fall from my face and looked down the sidewalk. Max was jogging toward us with a box tucked under his arm. He was out of breath when he reached my side, but he slapped a smile on his face, slicked his hair back, and wrapped an arm around me. Then he pushed the box into my hands. “Whew. Okay. We’re good. You ready to do this thing?”

I swallowed. “I think so.”

“You think so? You’re gonna need to do better than that. This is it. This is your big shiny moment. So I’ll ask you again. Are you ready to do this thing?”

I nodded and lost myself in his eyes. His gaze was reassuring. It let me forget about the massive crowd gathered outside the children’s home waiting for me to go out there and cut the ribbon—something Max and I had been talking about since we first started seeing each other.

I clutched the box in my hand even tighter. “I’m ready.”

Max grinned and offered me his arm. I looped mine through it. He offered Ella his other arm and she did the same thing. Then he lifted his chin. “Let’s do this, ladies.”

We walked across the street and down the block. We took one more turn and found ourselves confronted with a mob of people and reporters. Cameras flashed as soon as they spotted us, and Max escorted us up the stairs to the front doors of the children’s home.

The building was beautiful.

Great big bay windows lined the second, third, and fourth floors where all the bedrooms were. There were no more than four kids to a room, all of the same age and gender. There were play rooms and entertainment rooms. Study rooms. A library. A movie theater. A gym. Outside around the back there was a playground, basketball court, and open yard. The cafeteria was modern and inviting, with a fireplace and big round tables.

It was everything I could have dreamed it to be and more.

All because of Max.

I clung to his arm as we walked up the steps. At the top, we turned to face the crowd. Max nudged me forward.

Clutching the box under my arm, I swallowed as I gazed out over the crowd. In the front row were faces I recognized—my parents, smiling from ear to ear, snapping pictures with their phones. Ella’s parents. Max’s family—Catherine, Hayden and Keith. Almost all of the people who had attended my annual fundraiser in December were there, too. Some of the kids had been going around collecting donations.

I cleared my throat and stepped up to the microphone at the podium. I needed to say something. Anything.

“Um. Hello everyone,” I said. My voice echoed over the crowd. It reverberated back to me and I winced. “I’m sorry. I’m really nervous. I have been looking forward to this for so long. I can’t believe the day is finally here that I get to open my children’s home,” I said, and then I laughed. Well, sort of laughed. It was half a laugh and half a sob. It had been an emotional day. People in the crowd laughed with me and the positive vibes in the air calmed my nerves. I took a steadying breath. “You have all made this possible. You should be proud of yourselves for contributing to something so massive, and so desperately needed. I appreciate each and every one of you, and I can’t wait to show you what a good investment in our youth Laura’s Haven will be. I want to keep this short and sweet so we can cut the damn ribbon already, but there’s one more person I have to thank. Max, will you come up here for a second?”

I heard Max resist behind me, but Ella must have pushed him forward, because suddenly he stumbled up beside me and gave the crowd a nervous smile. They all chuckled. More news reporters snapped pictures.

I looked at Max when I spoke, not the crowd. “Max. This dream of mine was way bigger than I thought. I had no idea how much work was going to be involved. I was a little idealistic and naïve to say the least, but then you knew that. My five year plan would have turned into a fifteen year plan once I ever got started on my own, but you somehow made all of this come together in a year. Your all-in commitment to getting this done matters to me so much more than making my dream come true. You have saved the kids who will live here now and in the future from having to live on the street or in unsafe homes. A decade’s worth of kids I would never have reached because it would have taken too long. I want to dedicate Laura’s Haven to you. So, in your honor, I have actually registered this children’s home under a different name.”

There were murmurs in the crowd at this unexpected news. Max arched an eyebrow, looking perplexed.

I grinned. “Everyone. Please give a round of applause for the man who made this happen. Let’s cut the ribbon and declare The Miller House officially open!”

The crowd roared. Max’s eyes widened as I turned away from the podium and climbed up the remaining steps to the front door, which was blocked off by an oversized red velvet ribbon.

I pulled the box Max had run home to get out from under my arm and opened the lid. Lifting out the beautiful pair of silver scissors he had given me at Christmas last year, I said, “Come on, Max. Will you do this with me?”

The crowd was still cheering behind me and there was no way anyone could hear a word we were saying.

Max stepped in beside me and closed his hand over mine on the handle of the scissors. He stopped me before we cut through the ribbon. “Are you sure you want to call it The Miller House? You don’t need to do that, Laura. This is your dream.”

I smiled as tears blurred my vision. “I am positive. You are my dream, Max. Everything else comes second. We did this together. It’s ours, not mine. Now, let’s see if these scissors will cut this thing!”

Max and I sliced through the ribbon like butter. It fell apart, the two ends fluttering gently to the sides of the door. Then we threw our arms up in the air as the crowd continued to cheer. Ella ran up the stairs and gave us both a big hug, and she and I fell apart in a mess of tears and joyful laughter.

At nine that night, Max and I were still at The Miller House. I was sitting at the desk in my personal office sorting through all the donations while he organized my filing cabinets.

“Max,” I called him over. He came and looked over my shoulder as I showed him the total we had raised in donations over the last couple of months and today. “I think we have enough to cover operation costs for the first year. At least, I’m pretty sure this is enough.”

“If it’s not we’ll dip into my account,” he said simply.

“Have I told you today how amazing you are?” I asked.

He smiled sheepishly. “A few times, but I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

I stood up and looped my arms around his neck. “Then I’ll keep saying it. Because you are amazing, Max Miller. How did I get so lucky? I have everything I could ever want.”

“Everything, huh?” He asked, giving me a sweet peck on the tip of my nose.

I nodded.

“You’re sure?”

Suddenly suspicious, I narrowed my eyes. “Why do I feel like you’re up to something?”

Max’s smile gave him away. He was definitely hiding something. He ducked out from under my arms.

“I thought there was something else that would make today just a little bit better.”

“We’ve set the bar pretty high as far as great days go. How could it possibly get any better?”

Max took my hand in his, then dropped to one knee.

I clapped my free hand over my mouth. “Oh my God.”

“Laura Marie Wessex,” Max said, running his thumb over my knuckles as he knelt before me, “I have a question I’ve been wanting to ask you for a long time.”

Tears burned the corners of my eyes and I blinked them away furiously so I could see the man I loved on his knees before me. I wanted to capture this moment in my memory forever.

“This past year has been the best of my life. And that’s saying a lot, because I didn’t think I could ever feel real happiness again. I didn’t believe I deserved it. But you lit a fire in me that had burned out a long time ago. You made me a better man—the man I was too weak to be on my own. I love you so much it makes me dizzy. I wake up in the mornings and watch you sleep and wonder how the hell I ever got so lucky. All I want, Laura, is to spend the rest of my life making you smile. And laugh. I want to remind you every day how special you are. I want to give you everything in this world and more. And I want to grow old with you. So, with all that being said,” he paused and reached his free hand into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a purple velvet box. He extended it to me and with a flick of his thumb popped it open.

The ring inside was stunning. The main diamond was set in a halo of smaller diamond and cut in a circle. The white gold band was encrusted with diamonds that stretched all the way around. It was so bright, I believed it would sparkle in the dark.

“Oh Max,” I whispered. My whole body was shaking.

He took the ring out of the box and lifted my left hand. “Laura Wessex, will you marry me?”

I nodded. “Yes. Yes. Absolutely. Yes!”

Max slid the ring on my finger.

Shrieking with joy, I dropped to my knees in front of him and threw my arms around him, planting wet kisses all over his face. “I love you.”

“I love you too, pretty girl,” he said, before holding me tight and burying his face in my shoulder.

I squeezed my eyes closed and committed the moment to memory.

The way he held me so tightly and how strong his arms were. The way he smelled, like pine and sandalwood. The way he took a deep shuddering breath trying to keep his own emotions in check and stroked my hair with one hand.

The way he pulled back just long enough to kiss my cheek before hugging me tightly again.

The boy I’d loved when I was just a girl had become the brand new man I loved now that I was a woman. And soon, he would become my husband.

I nuzzled my cheek against his neck and whispered, “We have to go home. No sex in the children’s home.”

Max threw his head back and laughed. I laughed too, but mostly I just watched him. Because there was no better sight in the world.

The End

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About the Author

Hey there. I'm Weston.

I'm a former firefighter/EMS guy who's picked up the proverbial pen and started writing bad boy romance stories. I co-write with my sister, Ali Parker as we travel the United States for the next two years.

You're going to find Billionaires, Bad Boys, Mafia and loads of sexiness. Something for everyone, hopefully. I'd love to connect with you. Check out the links below and come find me.

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The Parker’s Wicked Playground

Brand New Man

Copyright © 2019 by Weston & Ali Parker

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

The novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and plot are all either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons – living or dead – is purely coincidental.

First Edition.

Editor: Lori Hawkins

Cover Designer: Ryn Katryn Digital Art