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Dear Neighbor

Page 15

by River Laurent

Max walked confidently in that direction. I could hear soft music playing, and the sounds of laughter as our feet clicked on the polished wood floor.

  “Is that Maximus?” Millicent Fields asked, hurrying over to us, arms extended. “I haven’t seen you in, what, Christmas?” She instantly struck me as a very lovely person. She had a genuine, radiant smile and gave him an actual kiss on the cheek versus an air kiss. I’d only ever seen her at company functions, looking regal and demure, but in her home, she was the image of graciousness and warmth.

  “And you look as lovely as ever,” Max said suavely, giving her a hug.

  She ran a hand over her ice-blonde hair as if smoothing it back into place and smiled at him affectionately. Then she turned to me and pursed her lips, thinking. “I’m sure I’ve seen you before. We bumped into each other at the buffet table during the last holiday party, didn’t we?”

  I laughed, realizing she was right. “And I almost made you spill your chateaubriand all over your beautiful dress.”

  “But you didn’t,” she chuckled. “Mimi, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Alexander stood behind a bar at the other end of the room, mixing cocktails by a blazing fire. “Come on, you two. Let’s get you fixed up with some drink.” Millicent went to him, while Max and I followed behind her.

  “You’re doing amazing,” Max whispered.

  “I can’t believe she knew!”

  “She’s like that. Remembers everything. Mind like a steel trap.” Max smiled as he shook Alexander’s hand, and I did the same.

  It was bizarre, standing there in my boss’s house. And what a house. The ‘great room’, as the maid called it, was roughly the size of a basketball court. It was two stories, with a series of windows along the back wall stretching from floor to ceiling. I caught a glimpse of a pool and hot tub, just as Josh had mentioned, and beyond that was an expanse of water.

  Still, in spite of its size, it was a cozy room, comfortably furnished.

  I decided I liked Millicent’s taste in décor. Some people would have crammed antiques and paintings and other la-de-dah things in there, but not her. Overstuffed couches in cream and blue, plenty of pillows and throw blankets, flowers, and candles. I could imagine curling up by the fire with a good book.

  “You’re the first to arrive,” our host informed us.

  “Are you expecting many people this weekend?” Max asked.

  “Josh Williams, his fiancée and her parents,” Alexander replied. “It should be a great weekend.”

  My stomach dropped. Lillian’s parents, too? I prayed they didn’t know who I was.

  Millicent winked at me. “My husband has the habit of inviting all sorts of people out here at once. I wasn’t able to attend the engagement party last weekend, but when he came home, he informed me it would be a full house.”

  “I hope that’s all right,” I murmured, alarmed and unsure what else to say.

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong. If I didn’t love to entertain, I wouldn’t have a home like this.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But I’m sure you’d rather not hang out with a bunch of old people this weekend. He doesn’t take things like that into account.”

  I smiled and shook my head. “It’s a real pleasure being here with you. I was thrilled to be invited. You have such a beautiful home.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart. We’re very lucky.” Out of anybody else’s mouth, that would have come off like the most pathetic humblebrag ever. But from her, it sounded sincere. I liked her so darn much. She wasn’t the stereotypical dry, upper-crust WASP. I felt like we could sit and gossip like girlfriends.

  “What are you two talking about?” my boss asked before handing me a glass of straw-colored wine.

  “I was telling Mrs. Fields how lovely I think your home is,” I explained. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Of course, dear, of course.” He still looked like he had no idea who I was or why I was there. I chalked that up to him being an exuberant host. He tossed out invitations like he was giving out candy, without taking account of who he’d invited.

  The doorbell rang, and Max took my hand. Whether he did it to make me feel better or to carry out the whole “we’re so in love” thing, I didn’t know. Not that it even mattered. I was so grateful for him just then, even if he had gotten me into the mess I was in.

  “Hello, hello!” Lillian rushed over to Millicent, and the two of them gushed together about how nice it was to see each other. I did a quick once-over of the glowing mother-to-be in her skinny jeans and baggy sweater. Once again, she looked painstakingly casual. It was a gift, I was sure, looking so hip and so carefree at the same time. Like she’d just thrown her outfit together while piling her golden hair in a messy bun on top of her head.

  Her leather riding boots and the Birkin bag over one arm might have made me murderously jealous for a second or two, but my jealousy was tempered by the fact that she had to carry Josh’s little brat to full term, deliver it and bring it up. No bag or shoe could make up for that kind of crap on a cracker.

  Josh nodded at me then made small talk with Alexander and Lillian’s parents, Peter and Gretchen, who remembered me from the engagement party and smiled tightly at me. They were much more like what I’d expected Millicent to be like. I hoped we wouldn’t have to spend too much time together.

  Max must have sensed my hesitation. He slid an arm around my waist, leaning in as if nuzzling me. “You’re doing great,” he whispered.

  “Good thing, since we’ve been here for maybe fifteen minutes,” I whispered back.

  His breath stirred the hair at the nape of my neck as he chuckled, and I shivered with sudden goosebumps.

  "We could always spend the weekend in our room if that makes you feel any better," he murmured, his hand tightening around my waist.

  “And what would we do there? Play chess?”

  “Of course. That’s all I brought with me. Clean underwear and my chess set.”

  I giggled. “You’ll have to teach me.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll teach you.”

  I felt my skin reddening. “Are you a good teacher?”

  “I believe in repetition. Over and over until you get it right. I mean, we do have all weekend.”

  I was glad Millicent interrupted us since I wasn’t sure if I could continue our conversation without turning myself on right there in front of my boss and his guests. I’d never spent a weekend in the Hamptons, but I was willing to bet that wasn’t considered good form.

  “Now that we’re all here, I’ll let the chef know to get dinner finished. If you’d like to go upstairs and get settled, I’ll call you down when we’re ready to eat.”

  Oh. Upstairs. The one place I simultaneously most and least wanted to be.

  46

  Mimi

  The maid showed us to our room, which sat at the top of a wide, curving staircase and directly to the left. Several other doors lined the long hallway, all closed. She opened our door, and my heart pounded so hard I almost couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in my ears.

  Our bedroom.

  For the whole weekend.

  Well, we had more than enough space—roughly the size of my entire apartment. No wonder Max thought my place was small. A four-poster bed sat against one wall. I couldn’t look at it without blushing. There was a chaise lounge by the window. I wondered if Max would do the gentlemanly thing and offer to spend the night in it, or do the caveman thing and demand to share the bed. I almost hoped he’d demand.

  Okay, I did more than almost hope.

  I ran my hand over the beautiful antique dresser, then examined the lovely little vanity and velvet padded stool. The room was decorated in shades of cream and light gray, with touches of yellow here and there which brightened up all the dark wood in the floors and furniture. It reminded me of an English country hotel. I couldn’t imagine having entire rooms like that one, all set up just in case guests visited. I’d sleep in a different room each night just to say I got some
use out of them.

  Our bags had been placed along the wall, just as Max said they would.

  “It’s unnerving,” I said, shaking my head.

  “What is?”

  “Having servants walking around, doing things while you’re enjoying the wine and the fire.”

  He had started unpacking, pulling out socks and underwear. He stopped and looked at me strangely. “It’s not slavery, you know. They get paid very well for what they do. They chose this profession. Just like you chose yours.”

  “Okay. Don’t bite my head off.”

  “Then stop being such an inverted snob and pretending there is an insurmountable mountain of difference between you and me.”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “You didn’t. I just think you will enjoy your weekend better without that chip on your shoulder.”

  I bit my lip. He was right. Both Alexander and Millicent had shown me nothing but genuine hospitality. I should stop feeling so insecure and just have fun. “Hey. We didn’t talk about which drawers go to which person.”

  He frowned. “There’s an entire chest of drawers here. We can split them up three and three.”

  “I wanted the top drawers.”

  “Why?”

  “Just because,” I said airily.

  “You’re so strange.” But he let me have my way, taking the fourth drawer and working his way down. Then he glanced up at me. “Aren’t you unpacking?”

  I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “I’ll wait my turn.”

  He straightened up. “Why wait?”

  “You can get the shit-eating grin off your face anytime you want,” I said, folding my arms.

  “Are you afraid I’ll see your panties and lose all control?” he asked, taking one slow step toward me, then another.

  “No.” Yes.

  “Or do you want to make sure I don’t catch a glimpse of your sexy underwear?” He kept walking toward me, making me back away until he had me up against the bed.

  “I’m just afraid you couldn’t handle it,” I quipped. “Your poor heart might not be able to take all the excitement.” My false bravado slipped when I realized there was nowhere for me to go. I feinted left, then right, trying to get around him—but he was too fast for me. I squealed as he threw his arms around me, pinning my arms to my sides. We both laughed and fell onto the bed.

  He was right there, so close to me, and we were both horizontal. On a bed. I stopped laughing. So did he.

  “I can take the chaise longue if you want.”

  “Do you want to?” Please say no. Please say no. Please kiss me right now and say no.

  One corner of his mouth curled upward as his eyes fixed on mine. “Do you want me to?”

  I shook my head slowly. “Not when there’s all this bed to enjoy. But only if you think you can handle being so close to all this.” I waved my hands over my body.

  He growled, setting my heart racing again. “I can barely handle it right now. What do you think it’ll be like later on?”

  I would have answered, but I stopped breathing and I needed to be able to breathe if I wanted to speak.

  “Dinner’s ready!” someone called from outside the door.

  He groaned, and I laughed as the moment dissolved. What would have happened if one of the staff hadn’t made her announcement? I knew what would have happened. I was an adult, and it was time to stop pretending there was nothing between us. That our appearance that weekend was all fake because it wasn’t. I wasn’t nearly as unhappy to be there as I had pretended to be.

  “So much for timing,” he muttered, rolling away from me.

  Oh, boy. There was no missing the telltale bulge in his khakis. In a parallel universe I would be passing up on dinner and living on lovin’, but in my little world that would be rude and stupid. Though it would send a clear message to Josh, which would have almost made it worthwhile.

  The thought of Josh reminded me of something important. I got up quickly, sex the last thing on my mind. All right, maybe not the last, but not the first anymore. “We have to get our stories straight.”

  “On what?” Max sat up, still looking flustered and put out at being interrupted.

  “On when and how we met.” I gave him a very brief, very abridged version of the run-in with Josh. “He asked when you came into the picture.”

  “It’s none of his business.”

  “Yes, well, I still think we should agree on a time when we started dating. Somebody’s bound to ask just to make small talk,” I pointed out.

  “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with saying we’ve known each other for a long time but didn’t start officially dating until a few weeks ago.”

  “Works for me.” As long as it didn’t look like I was being just as slimy as Josh was.

  47

  Mimi

  As it turned out, I had no reason to worry that night. Lillian's wedding plans and questions about her unexpected pregnancy dominated the conversation at the dinner table, with her mother and Millicent asking question after question. I had nothing to contribute to the conversation, so I stayed silent.

  The men had their talk, too, all about football—college and pro. I was just as lost there, too. And so was Josh, from what I could tell. While Max laughed and joked with the other men about their teams—it seemed like his team was doing better than theirs, though I couldn’t keep track of all the names they dropped—Josh stayed quiet. I wondered what was bothering him, but it was a vague question in the back of my mind.

  Maybe it was the way Max rarely stopped touching me—his hand on my knee, occasionally picking up my hand to kiss the back of it. He’d lean in to kiss my cheek every so often, or rest his hand on the back of my neck. Even though I wasn’t part of his conversation, I was always on his mind.

  And I. Ate. It. Up.

  Was I being smug? Eh, maybe a little, but it wasn't every day when I had the most handsome man at the table all over me. I’d have to write a letter to Santa and tell him I’d understand if he didn’t bring me anything that year. Christmas had come early.

  “I think the two of you are just adorable,” Millicent murmured with a warm smile. She sat at the foot of the table, with me on her right. From the corner of my eye, I could see Lillian turn to stare at me. The spotlight was finally off her and she didn’t like it one bit.

  “Thanks. He’s just too much, isn’t he?” I deliberately gushed.

  She gave Max a fond look. “It’s so nice to see him looking happy for once. I’m glad he finally found the right girl.”

  Wow, somebody up there was trying to tempt me, weren’t they? I glanced over at Max, who was deep in conversation about the playoffs, then leaned in to whisper to Millicent “What’s the story there?”

  “Oh, you know men like him. Too busy to settle down.” She laughed it off, then went back to her conversation about flower arrangements or place settings or whatever the new topic was. My eyes fell on Lillian as I turned back to my food. She could try to hide how irritated the sight of Max and me made her, but she was a pretty poor actress. I didn’t let her know I noticed her, but wrapped an arm around Max’s ridiculously thick bicep and kissed his smooth-shaven cheek. I was already having a lot more fun than I ever imagined.

  “I thought they’d never let us go to bed,” Max said when we finally reached the bedroom.

  We’d sat around the table for three solid hours, then spent another two hours by the fire over drinks and decaf and even more talk of the Wedding of the Year. I felt like I had already attended it, only I didn’t even have a party favor to take home with me.

  I had caught myself yawning more than once, then started biting the side of my tongue to keep from offending anyone when a yawn sneaked up on me.

  I sat on the bed with a heavy sigh, tired in my bones. “No offense to them, but I thought older people went to bed earlier. Maybe I’m an old lady in a young woman’s body.”

  “Yeah, ya are.” He smirked at me from the
closet, where he was hanging up his blazer.

  “I’ve been in these shoes all day,” I murmured, kicking them off.

  “You and shoes,” he chuckled.

  “Stop being a pain in the ass.”

  He walked over to where I sat. A slow burn started in my toes and started working its way up my legs. I held my breath. What was he going to do? I watched, waiting, my heart racing so fast I thought it would explode. He had to hear it racing. How did he not hear it racing? I was surprised people in other rooms couldn’t hear it.

  When he sank to his knees, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Gently, he took one of my feet in his hands and, without saying a word, started massaging it. I prayed like I had never prayed before that it wasn’t sweaty, or worse, smelly. Talk about a mood killer. I watched him like a hawk, but he didn’t recoil in horror, or throw up in his mouth. So I figured I was good.

  And so was he. Oh, was he ever good at a foot massage. “Do you work part-time in a spa or something?” I whispered, closing my eyes.

  “No,” he murmured with a laugh.

  “A massage parlor?”

  “Not for a long time. I got tired of the happy ending stuff.”

  I giggled, even as fire blazed and crackled in my core. He sparked something deep inside me, something I didn’t want to ignore any longer.

  I let out a soft moan, and when he looked up and our eyes locked, I curled and uncurled one finger. Beckoning, inviting, wanting.

  He knelt between my legs, hands sliding up my legs as he straightened up. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him in closer while winding my arms around his neck. My nostrils filled with the scent of aftershave and soap and that heady smell that was Max. Was it really happening? Were we going to take that big leap together?

  Yes.

  48

  Mimi

  I opened my mouth to say something, no doubt something stupid, so it was a good thing that the man moved forward and covered it with a soul-searing kiss. It was so raw with brutal need that I just about managed to cling to his hard shoulders. My tongue was caught, stroked, and pulled into the warm cave of his mouth and sucked.

 

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