A minor dig for the delay, reminding me he was a powerful man, a sought-after attorney. I was lucky to have him on my side.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t take your call sooner. I had a list of things to do, and I knew talking with you would be emotional.” I wanted to be behind closed doors where no one could see and speculate.
“Yes, I understand that quite well. It isn’t that you don’t have my sympathy, Miss Wood. It’s just that I want to win this lawsuit for you, and when I phone, you should realize I’m not calling to speak about the weather.”
“I do. Again, I apologize.” My head started to pound. “Is there something I might be able to help you with now, even at this late hour?”
My own dig. It felt like I’d been awake for twenty-four hours. I was too tired to do the time-zone math, but that might actually be the case.
“Marc Jensen, the lead attorney on Samuel’s team, contacted my office this morning. His client, your stepfather, is countersuing for defamation of character.”
“How much?” My stomach felt like it nosedived twenty-one stories out the penthouse window to the pavement.
“Ten million.” The exact amount I’d received for the deal I’d cut with Valentine. It wasn’t a coincidence, since Samuel didn’t like that I was working for his rival.
I staggered backward. The matching number was disturbing since I hadn’t made a formal announcement, nor had Valentine’s people. The list of those who knew the details outside of my inner circle was very small.
“Is that a typical tactic for this kind of case?” I asked, reaching for the back of a nearby chair but finding Max instead. I took the arm he offered and let him guide me to a seat.
“Typically, the accused does everything in their power to settle out of court. They just want the charges to disappear.”
As I listened to Hart, Max took a seat opposite me at the round mahogany dining table and Olivia took one beside me. Both wore mirroring expressions of concern as Hart continued.
“Samuel seemed to be following the expected pattern before. But now he’s done a complete turnaround, and that disturbs me. I wonder if you might have any idea why he’s assumed such an antagonistic stance.”
“I don’t know, exactly, beyond that he’s usually antagonistic toward anyone who crosses him.” My pale face was reflected in the shiny surface of the glossy table, revealing shadows of the scared young girl who still quaked inside, knowing she had angered him. “I told you all he said when he called me the other night. I guess that was the night before last, actually.”
I couldn’t focus. My thoughts were spinning.
Now the penthouse at the Intercontinental Hotel for this weekend seemed like too extravagant of a splurge. And what about the lease I’d just signed on the LA condo?
Olivia wanted me out of the Beverly Hills Hotel. I wanted out of it too, and she said the condominium was bargain priced for a location so close to the studio where I would be filming the next several months. But maybe I should have looked harder for something farther away and potentially cheaper.
Hart pulled in a breath. “Well, if there’s nothing more you can think of that I should know . . .”
“Only that he means what he says.”
“I’m aware of his reputation. But I think it’s time he experiences firsthand that my reputation is equally formidable.” He guffawed. “Proceed as Ms. Avalon has been directing you. My gut tells me he’s worried, and with good reason. The Besille segment aired today. Did you see it?”
“No.” My gut didn’t speak to me the way Hart’s did. It was too tense, but my brain was adamant about me not watching it.
“He didn’t anticipate you taking preemptive action. I believe he expected you to back down. His accusations directly on the heels of your emotional appeal make him seem callous and cruel. He’s made our case for us before the trial, attacking you when you appeared most vulnerable. It was the right call, getting out in front of the story. You outmaneuvered him.”
My eyes widened.
“Don’t count on him underestimating you again.”
“I won’t.” I knew Samuel would be coming at me with no warning whatsoever the next time.
“Good. If he attempts to contact you again . . .”
“I’ll refer him immediately to you.”
“Just so. I will keep you apprised as the situation warrants through your agent. Good evening, Miss Wood. And congratulations on your new film.”
“Thank you,” I said, but he’d already rung off.
“Samuel’s on the defensive,” Olivia said.
I nodded.
“That’s fantastic.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.” I glanced at Max to see if he had an opinion. He didn’t appear to be listening. His gaze was unfocused, and his brow was furrowed.
“You have to celebrate your victories.” Olivia tapped my clasped hands.
As victories went, it was a minor one. “He’s countersuing me now for the exact amount of the Valentine deal.”
“Of course he is.” She shook her head. “It pisses him off that you brokered a lucrative deal like that without him.”
A pissed-off Samuel was dangerous. Likely to lash out swiftly where he knew he could hurt me the most. Was that what Max was worried about?
“I think it’s a good thing we came out on top, considering we were scrambling only a few days ago. You did well today, on the interview and with everything else I threw at you. You’ve earned some rest.”
“What time is our flight back tomorrow?”
“Seven in the evening.”
“And how many obligations do I have before we head to the airport?” I braced internally.
“None.”
“None as in zero?” My brows rose.
Olivia smiled, an occurrence nearly as rare for her as it was with my serious bodyguard. “It’s late.”
She stood and moved behind me, then leaned down and pressed a kiss into my hair.
“Take the day off. You have to hit the ground running when we get back to LA. Preproduction begins for you, something the others who already signed on to the project have already completed. All I ask for your free time is that you avoid being photographed. I’d prefer not to have any visual evidence of you, or you and Mr. Cash, doing anything that I’ll have to rework in the next news cycle.”
“Free time sounds so good.” My weariness receded like the water retreating from the shore. Nearly an entire day in New York with Max. I could think of a hundred things I wanted to do.
“Do you hear me, Mr. Cash?” She rapped her knuckles on the table in front of him.
He turned away from his contemplation of the darkened corner of the room and gave her an apologetic look. “What? I’m sorry. I got lost in my own thoughts for a moment.”
“I’m giving Hollie time off. And since you go wherever she goes, you get the time off by default.”
His darkened demeanor brightened. “That’s great.”
“If you go outside the hotel—what am I saying? I know you’ll go out. This is New York. You can’t come all the way here and not at least do a little exploring, no matter how wrapped up you are in each other. But you’ll need to be discreet. There are paparazzi outside. Take the back exit. Wear hats, jackets, sunglasses. It’s cold, so it won’t look unusual if you remain bundled up.”
“Will do.” I was looking so forward to it.
“I’ll see you to the door.”
Max unfolded his long frame from the chair and followed her while I stared at his backside. I wasn’t going to miss that opportunity.
They exchanged a few hushed words, then Olivia was gone. Max turned around and moved toward me, his long strides sure and his expression soft for the first time today.
My Max was back. I smiled, stood, and met him in the middle of the room.
Twin grooves deepening in his cheeks, he pulled me into him. “I missed seeing your smile.”
“I missed you.”
“I’ve been beside you all day,
shug.”
“Not like this.” I reached up and pressed my hand to his cheek. His skin, as I suspected it would be given the hour, was rough with stubble.
“No. Not like this. The moments are too few like this.”
“We have tomorrow,” I reminded him, warmth filling my weary frame as he angled his head to press his face deeper into my hand.
“Until three.”
“Only three?” I frowned, trying not to pout.
“A car’s coming to pick us up. We need to head to the airport before afternoon traffic starts.”
I nodded. That made sense.
“You did better than well today, Hollie.”
I shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about work.” I brought my other hand up and swept both my thumbs across his high cheekbones. “Just the two of us. It feels like Christmas is already here.”
His gaze darkening, he reached up and removed my hands from his cheeks, then brought them to his lips instead. The flutters began before he even pressed his mouth to my skin.
“Max . . .” I exhaled, feeling so much. My spine tingled from the touch of his lips and the intensity of his focused regard.
“Yes. I’m right here.” Grooves appeared.
“Let’s, um, go to bed.”
His eyes flared. “Three more days until that has more meaning.”
“Yes,” I whispered. There was no longer any question about the next step for us.
“Come.” His voice a deep delicious rumble, he kept one of my hands and drew me along with him toward the bedroom. “If you like the view in here, I think you’re going to love the one over the garden tub.”
For once, I woke before Max did. The approaching dawn transformed the darkness inside the lavishly appointed bedroom from black to grainy gray, but the greater transformation was what sleep did to my bodyguard’s face.
Relaxed, he appeared to be closer to my age. The worry lines that often marred his forehead were gone. I wondered yet again what put them there. His grandmother’s death and the circumstances surrounding it, I imagined.
Losses had a way of carving themselves indelibly into your psyche, as I well knew. But I also knew it helped to talk about it with someone who understood. I had Fanny. Or I did for now.
My brow dipped. He had no family. No close friends. He hadn’t even mentioned a former girlfriend. I was relieved by that, but it was unusual.
Who did Max have but me?
His eyes suddenly popped open, and I got caught in twin blue headlights.
I blushed. “Good morning.”
He glanced at the bedside clock, then at me. “It’s early. How long have you been up?”
“A while.”
“Were you watching me sleep?”
“Yes.” I leaned over him to touch his face like I’d been dying to do. “You’re so peaceful when you’re resting.” I traced a lock of his golden hair, sweeping it from his often-brooding brow.
“I sleep well with you,” he said as I studied him, marveling at the silky texture of his hair and the contrasting roughness of his beard.
“You haven’t the past few nights. You’ve been wide awake before I cracked open my eyes.”
The crease reappeared, along with the shadows. My skimming fingers stilled along the tightened edge of his jaw.
“The danger in LA seems far away here.”
“It does,” I said.
“It only seems that way, though.” The shadows in his eyes darkened. The tension within him was palpable, a tightening beneath my arm and under my palm.
He removed my hand from his face and lifted my arm. Unsure, I sat back, my legs tucked under me. My frown matched his as I watched him get out of bed.
“Did I do something wrong?” I experienced that bad kind of sizzling, sparking feeling inside my chest.
“No, ma’am. Hollie. Shug.”
In profile to me, I could see that he was visibly troubled before he turned completely away.
“Max.” I came up on my knees and made my way to the edge of the bed. “What just happened? Surely, you don’t think you have to singlehandedly protect me from every evil.”
But as I made the statement, I wondered if that was the way he felt. Even before we declared our feelings to each other, I had the sense that he took on more burdens for the people in his care than he should.
“You do, though, don’t you?” I slipped off the bed, stood, and placed my hand on his shoulder. His skin was smooth, but the muscles were knotted beneath it. “You can’t take on that responsibility. At the end of the day, bad things happen that are beyond anyone’s ability to control.”
Max turned around so swiftly, I stumbled back. The hem of his 2 ROWS BACK T-shirt swirled around my thighs.
“That’s advice you should follow yourself, Hollie.”
My eyes widened. I rewound my statement inside my head and swallowed my protest.
“You and I are more alike than different.” He wore his impenetrable serious expression.
“I’m not going to disagree. I wasn’t trying to upset you or make you defensive.” I dropped my chin and my hair slid forward, curtaining my regret. “I was only trying to help. Watching you sleep, I realized we’ve both had losses, and I wished that maybe you would share some of yours with me. But I can see that the wall around you isn’t meant to be scaled. By me or anyone else.”
Hurt tears stung my eyes. Apparently, I’d misread where he wanted this to go. I was out of my element with him on so many levels.
“You don’t have to share. Let’s get dressed.” My voice was as sluggish as my weighted movements. “We should do something fun.”
Yet I lacked enthusiasm, and my feet dragged as I moved toward the attached bath and the ridiculous two-person tub that would never be used by us. I got snagged by the upper arm just before my toes met the tile floor.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he turned me to face him, his expression no longer hard, but sad.
“Sorry for what?”
“For being the way I am. For worrying the way I do. I took that worry out on you.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you really do.”
I cocked my head to the side. His words and the somber way he spoke them sounded eerily similar to mine when I’d been talking about Samuel and recalling the horrors of a night that I had yet to reveal entirely to anyone.
“Is there something in your past as bad as what happened to me with Samuel?” I took a risk pushing, not knowing if Max would share or even if there was anything. It probably would just make him retreat from me further.
“Hollie. Fucking hell.”
I flinched. I made a conscious effort not to use profanity. Another tribute to my mother like the Shakespeare, the yoga, and the attention to maintaining an expanded vocabulary.
“Pardon my language, shug. It’s just that when I convince myself that I’m the more mature one, you go and say something like that. You see things more clearly than a lot of people, see me in a way most don’t.”
“But you’re not going to share what’s bothering you?”
He sighed. The solid steel shield over his gaze shimmered. “Can I have some more time to consider?”
“Absolutely.” But I was hurt that he hesitated, and my spine stiffened.
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” I lifted my chin.
“Pull away. Assume that it’s personal. Assume my feelings for you are less than they are.”
He captured my chin between his finger and thumb, gently bringing my face into view and searching my eyes.
“If I could tell you everything right now, I would. But I’m not ready to lay myself bare to the bone. Not yet. Time, shug, it might not heal all wounds. But it does give us the benefit of distance from the more hurtful things, and hopefully some detachment from the worst of them.”
We were building a foundation, but until it was more solid, this was his gentle way of saying he didn’t yet trust me with his darker truths. M
y reticence to reveal all with him ran along similar lines.
“All right.” I forced a smile. Part of gaining his trust was showing him I wouldn’t push. “Let’s go out. I don’t know about you, but I could use some fresh coffee.”
“Coffee sounds great.” Looking relieved, he released me.
I took a step back, keeping my smile in place until I turned away from him. I knew I was doing the right thing, but I couldn’t stop the doubts that careened around inside me.
Were his secrets as dire as mine? If they were, would there ever be an easier time for him to share them?
I gave Max a curious look. “I can’t believe you’ve never been to New York before.”
“Never had the desire.”
“The theater. The people. The sights and history. The energy.” I loved it. My mother and I had come many times together.
“I can see that you like it. That it holds a lot of good memories for you, and that makes me like it.”
“C’mon.” I reached across the cracked Formica-topped table and took one of his hands. “You can’t be unaffected. You have to admit the Empire State Building and Rockefeller Center are pretty cool.”
“Cool as in they were freezing. Your skin is still ice cold.” He sandwiched my hands between his and then lowered his head to blow warmth into the cocoon he’d created.
My scalp and toes tingling, I melted as if my insides were smoldering embers that his breath stoked to flames.
“Better?” He peered at me, a long, heated moment.
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Good.” He released my hands and picked up his menu. “So, what’s good here?”
“Everything.” I looked directly at him. “Everything’s good.”
His lips curved, and he gave me an arch look.
“Hey,” I said. “That’s my signature brow move.”
“I know.” His dimples appeared. “But I don’t think you have it patented. And anyway, I don’t think you can pull off the sex appeal in your current outfit.”
“No?” I pursed my lips in an affected pout.
They were black. My eyebrows too. My makeup foundation was pasty white, my interpretation of nerdy goth. I had a fake diamond piercing on my nose. A Jack Skellington beanie covered all my strawberry-blond hair, and like my jacket and gloves, were The Nightmare Before Christmas paraphernalia the Disney store had been able to send over on short notice.
High Tide Page 12
