“There’s nothing to get through. You have a drug problem and brought me into your shit. I want a life. You’re not trying to move on. This was a temporary arrangement.”
Her face falls and lips start to tremble. I don’t feel bad, instead my mind wanders to a brunette sitting in god knows where reading lies Erica helped orchestrate.
“Erica, I’m done. You’re moving out. I’ll have a realtor call you tomorrow.” I get up to leave and hear the first plate hit the floor.
“You fucking bastard, I’m not leaving! I love you!”
I walk quickly to my room and lock the door. A series of crashes and bangs fill the house before the sobs start. It’s the same fake sobs I hear weekly. Erica has no idea, this time I’m serious. She’s gone.
“Think you can get me a new phone in the next hour and save everything on this one?” I ask the IT guy sitting in front of me. He stares at the phone like it has Ebola.
“I can try, sir.”
“Good and I need tracking on one of the numbers in there. Stella Sullivan. All her contact info is on my computer too. I want you to find her location by utilizing the IP address she is currently using to send emails to Dana.”
“Yes, sir.” He leaves and Dana comes in with several messages and a new cup of coffee.
“Have you heard from her?” I ask hoping the answer changed from two hours ago.
“No, honey. I haven’t. Have you looked over the emails I sent?”
“Yeah, and you’re right, she’s brilliant.”
Her sympathetic eyes stare into mine and I slam my hand down on the desk. “Damn it!”
“Maxwell, it’s Mason’s birthday party this weekend, what should I order for him?”
Mason is my middle brother and is a techie. “Get him the new iPhone 6 and a year’s subscription to whatever shit deals with online gaming.”
“Okay, now you want to talk?”
“No—I don’t know.” I look into Dana’s warm hazel eyes and tell her everything.
An hour later, IT calls and has a new phone and the IP address for me. He gives me the address for Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan in Alpharetta. I start to go there immediately, but Dana stops me.
“I think you need to handle Erica first. I have the realtor information and she already has several listings for you to look at. Why don’t you let me work on thawing Stella’s hurt—at least for a few days?”
“A few days! I’ve already haven’t seen her since last Wednesday. I need to see her, touch her, explain that it isn’t what she thinks.”
“I’ll send some flowers to her parents’ house and the office today. Laci’s at the office, I’ll call her and explain some of the situation. Maybe she’ll help get Stella to listen to you.” She pats my hand and leaves me alone.
I reluctantly agreed with Dana but my gut is screaming at me to go to her now. The longer she has to think about the lies Erica planted, the more she’ll pull back. It’s only an hour before I can’t take it anymore. Deciding I need to at least hear her voice, I call her. IT gave me a new number, which may be a saving grace. She won’t know it’s me.
I dial her and wait impatiently. By the third ring, I get nervous. Finally there’s a connection and the melodic sound of her voice, “Stella Sullivan.”
“Stella,” I groan.
“Max? What do you need? I sent everything to Dana.”
“Please listen to me, it isn’t what you think. She sabotaged me. Edward—”
“Stop it! Edward this, Erica that … I’m sick of it. Didn’t look like you were pushing her away when she was kissing you and pressed against your body! I’m not an idiot, Maxwell! Don‘t treat me like one.” The wounded emotion in her voice guts me.
“Listen to me! Really listen to me! I’ll explain everything tomorrow. After you see what I have to show you and hear me out, you can make your decision. But don’t cut me out of your life without giving me a chance. I’ve never lied to you, ever. You have to give me a chance, please?” The last word comes out hoarse and weak, but I can’t hide the desperation.
Silence fills the phone and she breathes heavily.
“You must be a miracle worker because my email is blowing up with messages from Laci. Apparently Dana got to her.”
I smile to myself and make a note to send Dana on a cruise if Stella agrees to meet with me.
“Fine! What time tomorrow?”
I give her the address and time, sighing in relief.
“Maxwell, I’m not sure what you expect out of this. You hurt me. Four days with no words and then a barrage of messages from Dana. I deserve more than that.”
Her continuous use of my formal name is not a good sign. “Yes, Bella, you do. And after you hear what I have to say, I hope you understand. I can’t lose you over this.”
The doorbell rings in her background and I hear her moving. She gasps when she opens the door.
“You didn’t!”
“Yes, I did. I know where you are but respect your space. I have to get my shit together today so tomorrow I can prove to you that I’m crazy about you.”
“Please don‘t say that.”
“It’s the truth, and tomorrow you can decide whether or not to believe it.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait.”
She hangs up and I sit back in my chair. Shit, this better go well. Because if it doesn’t, my alternate plan may piss her off.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I say to myself driving up to the meticulous high-rise. There’s a valet station, but I purposely find a spot with a meter across the street. If I need to run, no need to wait for my car.
Trying my best to be professional, I tell the doorman where I’m going and he inserts a key into the elevator, directing me to the twentieth floor. There’s only one door in the entire hallway. I knock hesitantly, willing myself to calm down.
There’s a sound inside that sounds like scraping and then the door flies open. Holy hell!
Max looks like he hasn’t slept in days, but he’s still beautiful. He’s wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that stretches over his tight chest, like it was made for his body. A thin black line peaks out from one of the sleeves, exposing his tattoo. Stubble from lack of shaving covers his jawline, which gives him a new level of sex appeal. I have to literally look away to keep from embarrassing myself.
“Stella,” he moans.
Instantly, I warm, my blood racing. My insides grow tight and my thighs reflex. His voice alone brings down my resolve. Our eyes meet and his are full of concern and sadness.
“Max, why are we here?”
“This is my house, you need to see some things.” He opens the door wider and motions for me to enter.
As soon as I do, a familiar scent of him fills the air, but also a stench. A terrible, nasty aroma of rotting food, and awful perfume.
He leads us into an open room that has floor to ceiling windows over-looking downtown. There is a casual living room that leads to a spacious kitchen. The living area is really non-descript. There’s minimal contemporary furniture filling the space, but it’s sterile and uninviting. The only thing that even remotely looks like Max lives here is a huge screen TV on the wall.
The kitchen, on the other hand, is a wreck, the beautiful granite countertops, covered in hardened food. The exquisite travertine tile, littered with broken dishes and more dried food. Wine glasses and other glassware, shattered all around.
Max watches me carefully as I take it all in. I try to ask what happened, but he hushes me and leads me down a hallway. We stop in front of a doorway and he looks at me cautiously while opening the door. It’s a gorgeous bedroom filled with Egyptian flare. Deep hues cover every surface including rich purple silks wrapped around the bedposts. Clothes draped across the wingback chairs and perfumes that fill the dresser, tell me this room belongs to a woman. I back out, uncomfortable with invading her space and Max leads me further down the hall to another door.
Without a word, he opens this door a
nd I feel a chill. The room is huge. Holding not only a full bedroom, but also a sitting area and a small office. It’s decorated in deep blues and greens with tan walls and sparse knick-knacks. There are a few personal pictures but mostly empty space. His bookshelves hold a handful of books, but nothing else.
I turn to him with wide eyes. “Is this your room?”
“Yes.”
“But it’s so … not you. Where are the pictures of your family? Your degrees? Your personal affects?”
“Destroyed,” he says softly.
“Destroyed?” I question.
“Yes.”
My heart lurches in my throat. This man, who has spent so much time in my home, is full of warmth and livelihood. His touch and energy bring me to life, yet, here in his home, I feel cold.
“Max—”
“Come, sit with me.” He takes me to the sitting area in front of a set of French doors leading to a small patio.
“I brought you here to see how I live, Stella. I close myself away in my own home for privacy. What you see in this room is the shell of what I wanted when I bought this place. I told you I made some crucial mistakes, and this is the consequence of one of them. I have no choice but to seclude myself in here when I’m home. Originally, I had paintings, personal photos, even a wall for my successes. But every time Erica was upset she destroyed them. One by one, I’ve let them all go and never replaced.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, trembling a little.
“Hopefully, you will once I explain. But promise me, promise me, you’ll listen to everything. It’s not a pretty story, but you need to know. Erica means nothing to me.”
I nod for him to continue. He reaches for my hand but I pull away. Not sure physical contact is a good idea. He sighs loudly and hangs his head, then begins to speak.
“Two years ago, I’d been CEO for about a year, and became reacquainted with Erica Hurst. We’d known each other as kids, but hadn’t seen each other much in ten years. She didn’t even come to dad’s funeral because she was jet-setting, trying to further her modeling career. Anyway, it was a gradual friendship and during that time, I believed she hated her father as much as I did. We had a casual relationship, at least I thought.
“I’m not a good man, Stella, and sex was sex. I wasn’t exclusive to her and she found out. When she did, she became unbearable. Her actions were irresponsible and erratic. She hounded me, even putting some critical business relationships in jeopardy. I cut her off completely, and she went crazy. Edward confronted me one day asking what I was doing about making things right. In my mind, there was nothing there; I only slept with her a few times. Edward is a prick but I was honest. I wanted nothing to do with her. He respected that.
“Then one night, I got a call. She was high and drunk, apparently took a shitload of pills and was in intensive care. When I got to the hospital, Edward and his wife were livid with me. He told me to suck up my shit and take responsibility for leading her on. I was angry and scared. I saw my mom go through the death of my dad and the look in Rita Hurst’s eyes haunted me. Even though Edward was a bastard, I couldn’t allow myself to be the cause of Erica dying.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper.
“Yeah, well even though I knew she was sick, I took her in anyway. I offered the best counseling and a place to stay. Since the day she walked in the front doors, she’s had her own room. I never made the mistake of giving her a reason to think we were more. But she’s convinced herself she loves me. She steps in every chance she gets to infiltrate my life. Showing up at charity events, popping into the office on special presentation days, following me on business trips. You name it, I’ve had to deal with it. Every time I threaten her with moving her out, she gets sick again. Throwing up, crying, pitching a fit–like a spoiled child. I know she’s doing it to make me feel guilty, but the thought of her in that hospital bed, clinging to life, fills my head and I give in.
“Even though we live together, I only see her occasionally. I think she thinks staying out all night makes me jealous, but I relish the time alone in my house. I’ve become so numb and so accustomed; it’s normal to me. What you saw in the kitchen is the result of me finally having enough balls to tell her she’s moving out. She didn’t handle it too well.”
“For the love of God, Max! She sounds crazy. Are you safe here?” I blurt out, thinking about the dishes and glassware covering the kitchen floor.
“Why you have a place for me to stay?” he jokes, raising an eyebrow at me.
“I’m serious, Max.”
“Of course I’m safe. She’s unstable and unpredictable, but my room and my things are protected. As you can see, there’s not much here anymore. I don’t always come home. I stay at my mom’s some weekends and then the corporate apartment too. Erica’s not only irrational, but also a junkie. She’s been arrested twice for possession but her dad’s money and status keeps her out of jail with a short stint in a dry out facility and a few thousand dollars to charities. Cocaine, weed, pills, she likes it all. The times she’s been in rehab were the most peaceful times I can remember in this place.”
“Wow, that sucks. How are you going to handle it?”
“Handle what?”
“Getting her out of here?”
“Easy, she fucked up royally last weekend and I’m sick of her shit. She’s gone. I’ve hired a realtor to help find her a place and told Edward she’s out.”
“Why, Max? Why did I see you all over the tabloids with her?” My voice cracks a little and his face softens.
“She did it on purpose. Edward told her we had business in New York, which was legit, but she knew something was up with me. She’s been asking around. Since I was out late every night with you and never in the office, she got curious. She showed up on the plane and said she had a few agencies she was talking to in New York. I ignored her, as always. I was blindsided by hotel arrangements, but still stayed away. It was her that arranged for the press to be at the hotel that night. She had a huge problem with me being named an eligible bachelor.”
I smirk, which turns into a snort and can’t help but laugh. He looks at me like I’m crazy until my giggling is under control.
“Sorry, go on. Tell me exactly how I saw the two of you looking cozy and her lips against yours.”
“It was a lucky shot. Edward invited her to the business dinner. She was drunk beyond belief, on something, and completely out of control. I had to get her out of the dinner event before Hurst & McCoy’s reputation was ruined. I grabbed a cab, with full intentions of getting her to bed and leaving that night. All I could think about was you. When we got to the hotel, she was almost comatose. Completely out of it. I had to hold onto her to get her into the hotel and right when a photographer popped out, she lifted up to kiss me. I was shocked and fucking pissed. I threw her in her room and left. I didn’t see her again until we got on the plane on Sunday. You have to know, she means nothing to me.”
“Max, my heart breaks for you, but why didn’t I hear from you?”
He gets up and goes to his desk. There’s a baggie on it and he brings to me. When I start to open it, the stench hits me immediately so I throw it back to him.
“Yeah, that’s what cocaine vomit smells like. The phone died on contact. I didn‘t get any of your texts until my IT guy got my new phone set up. My whole trip I was surrounded by fucking Edward, Erica, or business meetings. Every time I went to call Dana, even Edward stepped in and said his assistant would handle it. I was going out of my skin to talk to you, but knew you wanted to keep things quiet. I couldn‘t take the chance either of those assholes would get wind of us and sabotage it.”
“I want to believe you, Max, but you wounded me. One text and then no response? You’re the CEO and President of a multi-billion dollar company. You couldn‘t make a phone call?”
“Stella, please believe me when I say, I wanted to. There was very little privacy. Even when we came by to get my clothes, Edward followed me up here. I was able to send that text q
uickly with intentions of calling you that night. But Erica ruined my phone. Then when I had a few minutes to myself, I was too pissed to call. There was so much to explain and I didn’t want to do it over the phone. I was enraged, and then had to turn into a powerful businessman. Edward set me up with this group in New York, I had to be on my game.
“You have to know, I thought of you every minute I wasn’t in the heat of business. You consume me, so much so, I took the risk of bringing you here today.”
The look of pleading on his face touches me. I believe him. He’s thirty-three years old and carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. My anger fades but I remember what he just said.
“Where is crazy lady today?” I look around hoping he locked his door.
“Tuesday is her spa day. I knew we were safe. You needed to see, there is no Maxwell McCoy and Erica Hurst. It’s all a facade she keeps re-creating. I’m a one-woman man, and I need to know if that woman still wants me?”
I deflate, “Oh, Max. I was devastated on Sunday. The pictures, the lack of communication, the insecurity. I became a woman I never thought I would.”
He moves instantly, coming to kneel at my feet. “Bella, you have nothing to be insecure about. I’m crazy about you. We have a lot to learn about one another, but I feel better about getting this shit with Erica out in the open. Please give me another chance.”
“Okay.” My heart guides my words, not my head. The smile on his face is like a hit to my soul.
He doesn’t give me a chance to say another word as his mouth takes mine and he pulls me into him. The kiss is wild and heated. Tongues curling and thrashing at each other. Mouths fused together, breathing in each other and trying to make up for five days. He gently lowers us both to the ground, lying partially on top of me. My body responds by wrapping my legs around his hip and squeezing tight. He groans and I smile throughout the kiss, loving his reaction. We stay like this for minutes soaking in the taste of each other and holding tight when I finally have to pull away for air.
Laying my forehead against his, I stare into the deep blue eyes that have the power to own me.
Smokescreen Page 6
