Abby shook her head. “It’s just… complicated.”
“How so?” Meredith asked. “Either it was great or it wasn’t.”
Abby smiled, remembering the safety of being in Max’s house, of sitting on the floor reliving their favorite memories, of being in his arms.
In his bed.
“It definitely was,” she said.
“So why are you here with me?” Meredith asked. “Why aren’t you still in bed with Max, letting him feed you grapes or something?”
Abby sighed. “I just needed to get out of there, you know?”
“No, I don’t know,” Meredith said softly. “Tell me.”
Abby tried to order her thoughts into an explanation that made sense. “It was just so intense. I started to feel like I couldn’t breathe, like I wanted to run.”
“Sounds like you did run,” Meredith said.
Abby shook her head. “No, he understood. He gets me.”
“Are you sure you really want it?” Meredith asked. “That you really want him? Because you wouldn’t be the first person to change your mind about something once you get what you think you want. I mean, we’re in Vegas. Everyone wants stuff they don’t have and then wakes up hungover and broke, wondering why they wanted it in the first place.”
Abby laughed a little. “That’s not it. I guess I just need —“
She stopped talking when the waitress appeared with their food. She set everything down in front of them — a vegan omelet for Meredith and French toast with strawberries and a side of bacon for Abby — and refilled Abby’s coffee before retreating.
“What do you need?” Meredith prompted, cutting into the omelet.
“Some space,” Abby said. “It’s like I had this dream in the back of my head for all these years that I didn’t dare think about — the dream of being with Max — and then all of a sudden it’s true, and I kind of don’t know what to do with it. I’m a little freaked out.”
“Well, this isn’t exactly all of a sudden,” Meredith said. “It’s been a long time coming.”
“You’re right. It just feels sudden, I guess. I’m not sure I’m ready for it.”
“In what way?”
Abby took a bite of French toast as she thought about her answer. “I realized when I was in the car leaving Max’s that I’ve never really been intimate with someone.”
“That’s not true,” Meredith said. “There was that guy Peter last year. The one from marketing at the Mirage?”
Abby smiled. “I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about intimacy. Being really close to someone, letting them know me. Even sex has been…”
Meredith made a face. “That bad?”
“Let’s just call it perfunctory,” Abby said “And I’m not even saying it’s been their fault. I know I have… issues with it. I know it makes it harder for me to be really close to someone.”
Meredith pointed her fork at Abby. “That is not your fault. And trust me, any guy worth his salt would be patient until you got comfortable enough to be close.”
She thought about Max that morning. He’d been disappointed she wanted to leave, had asked her to stay at the house and wait while he ran an errand, had offered a movie and lunch and a night in with takeout.
She’d been in full-on flight mode, but he hadn’t been at all put off. He’d kissed her gently but passionately when he took her home, had told her to call him, that he was there if she needed him.
“I know,” Abby said. “I’m not trying to make excuses — for them or for me. I’m just trying to explain why I was freaking out a little. I couldn’t keep Max away like I usually do. I really let him in.”
“And now you’re scared.”
Abby swallowed, wiping a tear that clung to the corner of her eye. “Terrified.”
“Oh, Abby…” Meredith reached for her hand. “I don’t blame you for being scared. Loving someone is scary as fuck under the best of circumstances.”
“I’m kind of afraid I’m going to screw it up,” Abby said softly. “Maybe I’m just not capable of being all in, with Max or anyone.”
“I don’t believe that,” Meredith said. “And I don’t think you should tell yourself that, because it might become a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
Abby smiled. Meredith was big on the power of intention, the power of thought. “You’re right.”
“What about Max?” she asked. “Is he all in?”
I love you, I love you, I love you… I’ve always loved you Abby…
She drew in a breath. “I think so. Yeah.”
“Then it will be okay, because if he’s all in, he’s going to be patient. And let’s face it, no one knows you better than Max, not even Jason.”
The thought of Jason brought back their encounter in the parking lot at the Tangier the night before. She rested her head in her hands. “Oh god…”
Meredith froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. “What?”
“I haven’t even told you what happened with Jason.”
“Something happened with Jason?” Meredith asked.
Abby explained everything, starting with the business dinner and working her way to the unwanted kiss by her car. When she was done, Meredith was staring wide-eyed at her.
“No wonder you’re freaking out!”
“Right?” Abby said. “It was a lot, and then I had to hurry home and get ready for my date with Max, and I haven’t really had time to think about any of it.”
“Totally understandable that you’d need some space. Do you think Jason will apologize Monday? Like maybe he was just super drunk and will clear the air and that will be that?”
“I think I have to be the one to head off any awkwardness,” Abby said. “I’ll just have to talk to him, make sure he understands that I love him, that he’s one of my best friends in the world, but that’s all it will ever be.”
“How do you think he’ll feel when he finds out about you and Max?”
“I have no idea,” Abby said. “Shit.”
Abby hadn’t even gotten far enough to think about the inevitability of Jason discovering that she and Max were together.
And they were together. She knew it with a certainty she would have bet her life on. She could run, but she couldn’t hide from her feelings for Max.
From his feelings for her.
She didn’t want to. Not really. Already she was itching to see him, to sink into the safe haven of his body, to feel his arms wrap around her, a shelter against every storm, even the ones that still raged inside her.
Meredith sat back and finished her coffee. “Well, things sure got interesting fast!”
Abby smiled. “That’s a nice way of putting it.”
“It’s true,” Meredith said. “How would you put it?”
Abby sighed. “I don’t know. Right now, it kind of feels like everything’s a mess. I just want to get to the part where everything is under control.”
Meredith smiled. “Control is boring, Abby. Maybe it’s time to be out of control for a change.”
Sixteen
Max sat outside Abby’s house for a good ten minutes, the takeout he’d picked up slowly filling his car with the scent of Pad Thai and curry. He knew Abby was home, both because the lights were on and because they’d been texting throughout the day, but he still wasn’t sure she wanted his company.
Abby had always valued her time alone. It was one of the many things he loved about her — her fierce independence, the way she was so engaged with her own life that she didn’t need anyone else to be complete.
Except he suddenly wanted her to need him, or at the very least, to let him be there when she was struggling.
And she was struggling. He’d seen it in her face when he’d dropped her off that morning, heard it in the apologetic tone of her texts that said too little and more than enough all at once.
She wouldn’t ask him to come over. He already knew that. He’d toyed with the idea of asking her if she wanted company, but he worried it would be to
o easy for her to brush him off, to say she was fine.
She wasn’t like the other women he’d spent time with, however limited. Most of them would have welcomed his insistence on wining and dining them.
Hell, they probably would have just appreciated a second date.
This was different. He felt like he was approaching a wounded animal, one that had backed itself into a corner and was baring its teeth, its hackles up as it prepared to fight.
He didn’t want to make Abby feel threatened. To push too hard or force her into something she wasn’t ready for. But he did want her to know he was here, that he would always be here.
He forced himself to get out of the car before he could change his mind. He would drop off the food, see for himself that Abby was okay and tell her that he was sorry if he’d spooked her, that he was here if she needed him.
The house looked as warm and inviting from the outside as it was on the inside, landscape lights dotting the curved walkway leading to the small porch and front door.
He rang the bell, trying to name the feeling coursing through his veins. He could see Abby approaching from inside the house when he finally found it.
He was nervous. He was fucking nervous to bring dinner to the woman who had been his best friend his whole life.
Her face registered surprise even from the other side of the glass. She opened the door quickly when she realized it was him, her brow furrowed in worry.
“Max! Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine,” he said. “I thought I’d drop off dinner.”
She looked at the shopping bag of food in his hand. “You’re not staying?”
“I don’t want to impose…” He sighed. “Fuck. I just wanted to be sure you were okay.”
She smiled and opened the door wider. “Come in, silly.”
He felt silly as he stepped into the house. Like a teenager going over to a girl’s house, hoping for a kiss.
What the fuck.
“Let me take that.” She took the bag from his hand and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Come in.”
He followed her down the short front hall, through the living room, illuminated with the soft glow of two table lamps, that was open to the kitchen.
She took out two plates and he suddenly felt guilty. He really should have called. It wasn’t fair to impose himself on her like this.
He crossed the room to where she stood, pulling the food out of the bag and setting it on the counter. He positioned himself behind her, slid his arms around her waist, and kissed the bare skin where her T-shirt had slipped off her shoulder.
“I’m sorry to just show up,” he said. “I’m not trying to push.”
She turned in his arms, her body soft and smelling of something like home. Like long afternoons on the sofa watching old movies and home-cooked meals prepared in a warm kitchen. Like sleepy mornings waking up with the sun streaming into the bedroom.
She lay her head against his chest. “I might need to be pushed a little.”
“That’s not going to be easy for me.” He’d spent a lifetime learning not to push her, learning to let her lead the way, to tell him what she wanted to tell him and hold close the secrets she wasn’t ready to speak.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not very good at this.”
He tipped her face up to look at him. “At what?”
“This whole… intimacy thing.”
He smiled. “Intimacy thing?”
She laughed a little. “You know what I mean. I’m not used to being close to people.”
“You’ve been close to me all my life,” he said.
“Not as close as we were last night.” The smile she flashed made him feel better than any of the words she’d said so far.
“True,” he said. “But I know what you mean, and I want you to know that it’s okay. We have all the time in the world. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re not?”
He shook his head. “Except home to dream about you.”
“Not yet, you’re not,” she said, turning around to dish food onto the plates. “There’s no way you’re leaving me with all this food.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because I really was planning to leave the food and go.”
“I’m sure. The leftovers will all go bad in my fridge if you don’t help me eat everything.”
“If you insist,” he said.
“I do,” she said. “And I think you owe me at least one movie for this terrible imposition, too.”
She was obviously joking — about the imposition at least — and he was suddenly glad he’d come. Glad he’d taken the chance. Maybe Abby wasn’t the only one scared of opening up, of being exposed. He could tell himself he was a big man without a fear in the world, but the truth was, he was terrified of fucking things up with Abby — terrified of losing the one thing he hadn’t known he’d needed more than anything else in the world.
They carried their food to the sofa and argued good-naturedly over movie choices before compromising on the latest edition of an action adventure franchise featuring Tom Cruise.
They riffed on the cheesy dialog and predictable plot points while they ate, then set their food on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch. Abby reached for a blanket that had been pushed aside — along with a book, which made him think she’d been reading when he rang the bell — and Max pulled her into his arms.
She sighed as she sank into him and he had to resist doing the same. Who knew all those nights he’d spent wooing strange women and drinking and losing money, that this was what he’d really wanted — a quiet house, takeout, the TV, and most of all Abby, in his arms.
By the time the credits rolled, Abby’s breathing had evened out into the rhythmic inhale and exhale of sleep. He turned off the TV and looked down at her head against his shoulder.
The visit to Jason’s had been eating at him all day. He didn’t like swallowing his pride under any circumstance, and especially not with Jason. He wanted to turn his back on the whole thing, tell Nico Vitale and the Syndicate to go fuck themselves, that Jason Draper’s activities were none of his business.
But the feel of Abby in his arms was all the reminder he needed. Abby worked with Jason every day at the Tangier. She managed his money — money that might be illegally obtained, that might lead her to be implicated by the FBI. Worse, it was money that was tied to the Vegas Mob, and that connection alone was enough to put her at risk.
What would she say if she knew what he was doing? If she knew about the Syndicate and the allegations they’d made against Jason?
She would put a stop to all of it. She would demand Max stay away from the game, would confront Jason, alerting him to the fact that he was under scrutiny, not just by the Syndicate, but by the FBI. Jason would shut down the games and go underground with his illegal activities. It was anybody’s guess how long it would take them to get a line on him again, but the Mob wasn’t likely to let Jason out of their agreement. Jason would continue his business one way or another: Max just wouldn’t know how. Abby would continue working at the Tangier, in even more danger both because she’d alerted Jason to her knowledge and because they would have no way of knowing how Jason’s illegal enterprise had evolved.
None of that would work. It was better for him to stick to the plan.
He kissed the top of her head and relaxed into the couch, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. He was doing the right thing. It was safer for Abby not to know.
Seventeen
Abby tried to calm the butterflies in her stomach as she made her way through the casino Monday morning. She’d toyed with the idea of calling Jason yesterday to clear the air but had eventually decided it wasn’t a conversation that should be had on the phone. Better to have it at work where she could reassert her position as his employee, where she could continue to frame their relationship as friends and colleagues.
The casino floor was quieter than usual, the beeping of mac
hines and tick of the roulette wheels louder without the murmur of conversation near the tables and drunken laughter from the bars. Most of the conferences and trade shows booked in the hotel started on Monday or Tuesday, which meant the attendees trickled in at the beginning of the week, the gaming tables and machines slowly picking up speed as the week wore on.
She stepped into the elevator with two women wearing lanyards and badges that marked them as guests attending a book conference. A young couple joined them just before the doors closed, then retreated to the corner of the elevator where they proceeded to unabashedly make out.
Only in Vegas.
She thought of Max as the elevator rose, the drop of her stomach only a fraction of the feeling she had when she was with him. She’d wanted to invite him over on Saturday night, had wanted to see him if only to reassure herself that their night together hadn’t been a dream. That what was between them was real.
Then he’d appeared at her door as if manifested by her thoughts, and she’d been terrified all over again, by the way he looked at her and the way she felt like she was in a speeding car with no brakes. It had all seemed so domestic — the takeout and the movie and the sofa. She couldn’t help wondering if it was a downgrade for him, if he’d rather be out drinking or gambling or picking up a woman who was looking for more excitement than a book and a blanket on the sofa.
It wasn’t until they’d finished dinner and she’d settled back into the sofa, Max’s strong arm around her as she rested her head against his chest, the soft hammer of his heart under her ear, that she’d started to relax.
It had felt easy. It had felt right.
It was after midnight when she’d woken to find that he had carried her to bed and was tucking her in fully clothed. She’d reached for him, asking him to stay, and he laid next to her on top of the covers, holding her from behind, the big spoon to her little spoon.
They’d spent Sunday morning making breakfast and reading the news. When he’d kissed her goodbye, insisting he’d overstayed his welcome, she was surprised to find that she didn’t want him to go, that the space she’d so desperately needed after their first night together was comfortably filled with his presence.
King of Sin: Las Vegas Syndicate Book One Page 11
