A Baby for the Beast

by Chance Carter

  I eased myself out of bed and started gathering things around me, feeling a bit like I was in a dream.

  “Why are we going? Is everything okay?”

  Max didn’t look at me. He stormed to the bathroom and I heard him slamming the cupboard doors as he retrieved his toiletries.

  “We’re being kicked out.”

  He said it with such finality that I didn’t want to press him any further. He was clearly stressed out, and if we were being kicked out, then I’d have the long plane ride home to question him on the details.

  I started numbly gathering my things, piling them into my suitcase with only a little more finesse than Max. It was the middle of the night, and packing was already a pain in the ass. Repacking in a hurry was even worse, so I didn’t bother to fold anything.

  Also, based on his choppy, rushed movements, I wasn’t sure I had time. He was acting like someone might bang on the door any moment and eject us from the room by force. It was scary, but I swallowed down my trepidation and hurried onto the deck to gather everything we’d left out there.

  It felt like only a minute later that the two suitcases were standing, packed, in the middle of the room. The last thing I had to do was change out of my pajamas and into something a little more travel appropriate, so I put on a pair of jeans and a tank top. I was already sweating. The night air felt like you could cut through it with a knife, and I didn’t look forward to going outside.

  “Are we going to another hotel?” I asked hopefully, even though I already knew the answer.

  Max shook his head. “Got everything?”

  “Yes.”

  He grabbed the handle of his suitcase and stormed out the door. I grabbed mine and hurried after him.

  There was already a car waiting for us at the front of the hotel when we got downstairs. I didn’t know if he’d called it or if it had been called for him. What could have possibly gone wrong? Why were we being kicked out? It didn’t make any sense. Things had seemed so positive only a few hours before, and I’d been sure that Baldric was about to reveal his intent to sell to Max.

  Max pulled out his phone as soon as we were in the cab and started making phone calls, arranging for his private plane to be readied, and snapping at the person on the other line that he knew it was last minute. Normally I would be the one making these kinds of arrangements, but Max seemed like he needed something to do. Not to mention the fact that only his personal brand of authority was going to get the crew up and jumping at this hour.

  We were almost at the airport when Max finally finished his calls. He also phoned Jeremy, and told him that Baldric’s lawyers would probably be in touch with him soon, but not to say anything until Max was home and they could talk properly. This piqued my interest even further.

  Max still hadn’t said a word to me about why this was happening. In fact, he had barely even looked at me. He was so involved in whatever was going on in his own mind that I began to wonder if he’d notice if I didn’t end up on the plane with him. It was frustrating, and more than mildly hurtful. He had to know how confusing this was for me, right? It was cruel to not at least try to explain why I was being rushed off on an international flight in the middle of the night.

  I waited until we were buckled in for take-off before I posed the question. He was seated opposite me in the luxurious leather recliner seats, staring out at the tarmac with a jaw so tight it looked like it had been wired shut.

  “Max,” I said.

  He grunted to acknowledge he’d heard me, but said nothing else.

  That infuriated me even more.

  “Max. Look at me.”

  He shifted his eyes to meet mine. The intensity of those baby blues, rage swirling around the irises, startled me. I’d never seen him so angry.

  “What happened?”

  Max chewed the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Tough shit.”

  His eyes flashed. For a second I thought he was going to stand up and storm over to the other side of the aircraft.

  Why was he acting like such a dick? This wasn’t like him. Max was many things, but cruel wasn’t one of them. He had his asshole moments, sure, but I’d never seen him so cold. It was driving me insane, filling me with worries and doubts that normally wouldn’t even faze me. Now I was self-conscious, and I didn’t like feeling that way where he was concerned. It was hard enough that I had such strong feelings for him in the first place, feelings I worried he didn’t reciprocate.

  When Max didn’t speak as quickly as I wanted, I continued. “You just dragged me out of bed and made me pack so fast I thought that an anvil was about to drop on us. You’ve told me nothing except that we got kicked out, but I think at this point I deserve a little more than that. Don’t you?

  “Baldric is a dick. That’s why we got kicked out.” He turned to look out the window.

  I kicked his shin. “Elaborate.”

  He turned his gaze back to me, licking his lower lip. My stomach quivered at the glass-cut rage on his face. He looked fearsome, like a vengeful god on the attack. I wasn’t afraid of him by any means, but I wouldn’t want to double cross Max either. It was poignant how much different he looked now versus his normal, easy smile and mischievous eyes. I wanted to comfort him but I also wanted to smack him. I figured I was better off staying in my seat, just in case.

  “Baldric was ready to accept my offer,” he explained. “But he wanted something from me that I wasn’t willing to give.”

  “And what was that?”

  “You.” He spoke in almost a whisper, the rage and pain evident in his face.

  The word hung in the air between us as the plane began rolling down the tarmac. I was suddenly very happy we were leaving, and couldn’t wait for this plane to take us as far away from that lecherous pig as possible. Who throws a woman into a business deal? It was sick.

  “So he kicked you out because you wouldn’t let him sleep with me?” I asked.

  Not that even Max’s permission would have gotten me naked in front of that perv. Did he not realize that I had a choice in the matter too? I’d never felt so much like livestock in my life.

  Max turned to look out the window again. “No.” His voice was quiet, stronger though, but still laden with stress. “He kicked us out because I broke his nose.”

  My gaze instantly slid down to Max’s hands, gripping the edge of the armrests. The knuckles on his right hand were pink and puffy.

  “You’ve got a real penchant for breaking noses, eh?” I said, trying to lighten the mood a little. “Maybe you could try aiming for the jaw next time. A swift uppercut perhaps.”

  Max’s mouth remained in a firm line and he still wouldn’t look at me.

  An announcement from the pilot informed us to prepare for lift off. I looked out the window too, since apparently my conversation with Max was dead in the water.

  Was he mad at me? I understood how much he’d wanted this deal, but it hardly seemed fair for him to be upset with me just because Baldric was a piece of garbage.

  Maybe he was upset that I was there in the first place. Maybe none of this would have happened if I hadn’t gone out to meet him that day in the lobby with those drinks. If I’d just kept to myself and not put myself in Baldric’s path, he could have been the owner of a set of paradisiacal hotels by now.

  The plane lifted into the air and my stomach flopped. I badly wanted to talk to Max, but I didn’t know what to say. I certainly wasn’t going to apologize. Even if he thought it was my fault that the deal had gone awry, it wasn’t. I refused to feel guilty for existing. I wanted him to tell me he wasn’t upset with me, but couldn’t gather the nerve to ask. I was too afraid of what he’d say. I couldn’t stand hearing from his lips how he blamed me for losing him this deal, especially not with how emotionally charged the air in the cabin was.

  I decided to wait. It was due to be a long, quiet flight. A stressful flight. I hoped that Max would say something to me before we lan
ded at JFK.

  Somehow I doubted he would.

  Chapter 26

  Max

  Even after several hours of sitting, my blood still felt thick and hot in my veins. My fists ached, too—not because of the damage they’d already done, but because of the damage they still longed to inflict.

  I knew I was being a dick, but I needed to cool off before I tried to speak to Emma. She deserved better than me giving her the silent treatment, especially when she’d done nothing wrong, but she also deserved better than to have me go off on a rage fit because I didn’t take the time to sort out this anger.

  I’d had a lot of anger problems as a kid. My dad always joked that I’d inherited my mother’s fiery temper, which was something I was so adamant to overcome that I spent the better part of my teenage years struggling to balance my hormones and frustrations until I reached a state where I could be cool and collected even in high stress situations. Now my calm demeanor was one of my best attributes when it came to business, and it was something I prided myself on.

  This was the second time in the past year that I’d let my anger get the better of me. It was also the second time that I felt no remorse for doing so. The commonality between these occurrences was Emma, and where she was concerned I didn’t care if I came off as a hothead. The thought of anybody touching her made me spitting mad. Furious.

  This was a scary thought, considering we were never supposed to be that serious. I knew what I was getting into when I suggested we take our relationship to another level, but I’d had girlfriends before without wanting to rip out the throat of every man who so much as looked at her the wrong way.

  I knew she was upset with me, but decided I would approach the topic once we were back in New York. I’d take her home with me, apologize for being an asshole, and then make love to her until she forgot all about it. This thought and this thought alone helped calm me down on the long flight. By the time we landed, I was ready to put my plan into action.

  Too bad I made the mistake of turning my phone on once we landed.

  I swore under my breath at the sheer volume of missed calls and voicemails I had from my mother. It didn’t matter that it was five in the morning, Paulina made it clear that she needed to speak with me the moment I was back stateside.

  I called her as we disembarked, holding the phone away from my ear in anticipation of her shrill tone.

  “Maximilian Augustus Westfield! What the fucking hell do you think you’re doing?” she answered. Not giving me a chance to answer, Paulina continued. “Come over to my apartment immediately.”

  “I just got home,” I replied. “I’m not coming over right now.”

  “So help me God, Maximilian, if you don’t come over right now I’m going to have a heart attack. I’ll carve into the floor with my last dying breath that you were the one who killed me, then spend the rest of my miserable existence haunting the ever loving shit out of you. Do you understand?”

  I gritted my teeth. “Fine. I’ll see you soon.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to argue with my mother, and she wasn’t in the mood to be argued with. Besides, it might be nice to have a little screaming match with her. It would certainly help unload some of the anger still rushing through my veins.

  I instructed the driver to take us to Emma’s first. She stared out the window, not even trying to initiate a conversation.

  “Emma,” I said softly.

  She refused to look at me. “Just take me home, Max.”

  What was I expecting after not talking to her for the entire plane ride and being a jerk when I did speak? I wanted to sort things out with Emma before I even tried to fix anything else, but I knew that wouldn’t work. There wasn’t enough time in this car ride to fix what I’d damaged on the plane, and I owed it to my mother to go over there like I promised. Her threat had only been a threat, but sometimes I did worry about the stress she put on her heart with all the silly ways she got overexcited.

  We stopped in front of Emma’s apartment building and I leaned across the backseat toward her. She promptly got out and slammed the door in my face.

  My mother was approximately three gins deep by the time I made it to her door.

  I could tell because her eyes weren’t yet glazed over, but they couldn’t focus on one spot too well either. Another tumbler, presumably her fourth, was gripped tightly in her free hand.

  “I’m surprised you actually came.”

  I walked past her into the apartment, slipping out of my suit jacket and hanging it over the back of one of the stools at her breakfast bar. I didn’t know how long I was going to be here, but I expected it was better to get comfortable.

  “Even a demon wouldn’t dare ignore your summons, Mother.”

  She closed the door with a slam and sneered at me. “Always such a smart ass. Just like your father. Of course, he wielded his wit like a weapon in the board room, whereas your main objective in life appears to be vexing me.”

  I bristled at that. Paulina seemed incapable of measuring my devotion to the company, and preferred to use her presumption as law. If it didn’t appear to her that I was playing my part, she automatically assumed it must be true. I didn’t know if she’d always been this way, or if it had simply evolved out of not trusting my father enough to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  Paulina stalked over to the living room and practically fell onto the sofa. It wheezed with the sudden weight. I joined her, sitting on the opposite divan and settling in for what was sure to be an unpleasant chat.

  “My main objective in life is to run Goodman-Westfield to the best of my abilities,” I told her. “Since you have few shares and even less participation in the business, I suggest you remember that before you start making assumptions.”

  She guffawed, tipping more of the clear liquid down her throat. “If yesterday’s incident was you running the company to the best of your ability, I don’t want to see you on an off day.”

  I tensed, even though I’d been expecting this. “That was a unique situation.”

  “Unique in what way?” She flung her hands into the air in exasperation. “You assaulted an influential player in an industry we’re trying to get into.”

  “He deserved it.”

  “Excuse me?” Paulina inched forward, leaning toward me so that I could almost smell the spirits on her breath. “What excuse could you possibly have for punching Baldric Hammond? Every time I answer my phone it’s someone asking me about it, so I’d love to have something to tell them.”

  We both knew she wouldn’t be telling anyone anything. I doubted the incident would attract much attention outside of the business world, especially since I found it unlikely that Baldric would want others to know about it. We had lawyers and publicists to deal with these kinds of things. It was nice to know that it would all being taken care of while I continued to work on things that mattered. Maybe I should hit people more often. It felt good.

  “He insulted me.”

  Paulina raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “He insulted you.”

  “Yes.”

  She laughed bitterly. “What are you? A child? A man insults you and your first reaction is to attack him and thus tarnish our company’s reputation?”

  Technically I had only tarnished my own reputation, and I doubted it would stick for long. The wealthy had done far worse. Punching one idiot who undoubtedly deserved it was hardly going to end with me being ostracized for life. I was sure I’d fulfilled a lot of other people’s fantasies by taking a shot at the guy, and we might even form positive relationships with Baldric’s rivals in the aftermath.

  That being said, it was unfortunate that obtaining those hotels was out of the question. Paulina was right to be upset about that missed opportunity.

  “He was being a creep. He wanted me to give him Emma for the night,” I explained. “I only did what any man would do in my situation.”

  “You’re not any man!” Paulina wailed suddenly.

  I flinched.

&
nbsp; “You are the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation! You command a work force of thousands, and all of those people look to you for guidance and support.” She took a breath, so on a roll that she didn’t even notice the liquid slashing out of her glass with every exultation. “You need to be better than any man. I just don’t understand, Maximilian. You’ve never been reckless like this before. What has changed?”

  I leaned back into the cushions, contemplating how much I was willing to reveal to defuse my mother, and how much of what I had to reveal would only ramp her up more.

  I had completely fallen for Emma. I couldn’t deny it anymore after the sickness that engulfed me following Baldric’s request. I felt things for Emma that I’d never felt for anyone. I just wasn’t sure if I was willing to admit this to anyone yet.

  Paulina waited for my response expectantly, fingers tapping out a staccato rhythm on the side of the glass. She wasn’t a patient lady, and as time continued to drag on, she started beating it out faster.

  “Baldric wasn’t worth my time or energy,” I said finally. “Hitting him felt good. I won’t apologize for that.”

  “Is that what you’re going to say to the investors?” she asked snidely.

  I exhaled through my teeth. “That’s what I’m telling you. As my mother.”

  This seemed to catch her off guard. Though it was never in question that she was my mother, it wasn’t often that it felt like that was the role we shared. Most of the time I was just happy to keep her off my back and well hydrated.

  “I’m disappointed in you.”

  The words cut deeper than I thought they would. I’d heard enough. Rising to my feet, I stood over my mother and stared down at her with a sad smile.

  “Some things are more important than business,” I said.

  Paulina looked like she was about to faint. Her pale cheeks turned ashen, eyes widening in their sockets.

  I ignored her expression of horror and strolled to the door, opening it halfway and turning to toss a final phrase at her.

  “If you don’t like it, you can get in line.”