by Gina Gordon
I expected him to laugh at my joke, but he didn’t. Instead he reached across the table. “What’s this?” He pulled the bucket list from between the pages of my textbook. “The color matches your eyes.”
“Give that back.” I swiped my hand at his, but he pulled the sheet of paper away too quickly. Panic seized my brain and body.
“What is this?”
I breathed heavily. Being a lawyer was a search for the truth, for justice—I found it hard to lie. Under any circumstance. And I wasn’t going to start now. “It’s a bucket list.”
“A bucket list?” His eyes worked from side to side as he read the items. “Are you dying?” he asked.
“No!” The response was a little louder than I’d anticipated, but it was an awful question.
His face scrunched up in confusion. “Then what are you doing with a bucket list?”
I swiped again and this time I connected. I grabbed the paper out of his grip. “It’s none of your business.”
There were a lot of personal things on that list. Things I didn’t want a total stranger knowing I hadn’t done, like having a really good laugh.
“Have you completed any of the items?”
“If you haven’t noticed…” I pointed to the table with all my studying accessories. “I’m a little busy.”
Just then a smile spread across his face.
God, he needed to stop doing that.
“What if I offered to help you cross off one of those items tomorrow?”
I cocked my head. This should be good.
“Go out with me tomorrow night.” He lifted his hand and traced a checkmark in the air as he said, “Item number one…check.”
“What?” My eyes scanned the list. Although I had it memorized, I needed to double check.
Go out with someone you’d never give the time of day.
“You’re…crazy.”
No he wasn’t. He was exactly right.
Loosen up, girlie. You’ve only been given one life. Live it.
I tensed at the sound of Gram’s voice in my head.
Just then my favorite barista came by to collect my empty cup. I was barely acknowledged. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from my guest. I felt jealousy tighten in my stomach, a feeling I was not used to. Maybe she wasn’t my favorite anymore. More important than the loss of my best barista, was his statement. Had I judged him wrong?
She left the table without even the slightest acknowledgment from Max. Instead, his eyes stayed perfectly fixed on me. I swallowed hard. I wasn’t blind to his presence either—the masculine lines of his face, his totally kissable lips. Heat bloomed inside my body, in places I hadn’t properly acknowledged in a very long time. Was I wrong for wanting to feel the softness of his lips against mine, against my skin, against every inch of my body?
The sexual attraction to him was nothing I’d ever felt before—beginning as a slow ache between my thighs upon first sight and now an outright burn.
Down, girl.
I fisted my hands on my lap, under the table and out of sight. I couldn’t let him see just what kind of effect he had on me.
He reached over and grabbed the list again. “Go out with someone you wouldn’t give the time of day.” He grinned. “I believe that’s me.”
He seemed way too happy to be not my type. But I couldn’t go out with him. Could I?
He leaned across the table and my nipples hardened at his infiltration of my personal space. “I bet you do everything you’re supposed to.” He cocked his head to the left. “Don’t you?”
As a matter of fact, I did. But damn him for thinking he knew me.
He dipped his head as if making a point to shield his forthcoming words from others. I swallowed hard.
“You may not think I’m nice. You may not think I’m sexy. But as for completing your life…” His piercing gaze met mine and I knew that with only a little more coaxing, I could be another one of his anonymous panty donors. “How do you know if you don’t give it a try?”
I scoffed. “I’ve never tried bull testicles, but I know they can’t be good.”
The grin never left his face as he pulled away. “Then it’s settled.” He slapped his palm on the table. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at ten.” He pointed behind him. “I’ll get your address from Jade. It was nice meeting you, Everly Parker.”
He extracted himself from the booth.
“I can’t…wait…” I reached out as if to grab him, but my hand fisted around air. Like a ghost, he had waltzed in and out of my life, somehow managing to shake my focus.
I’ve had my head down and nose in a book for the last three years and nothing has distracted me—except Max Levin. The blinders I’ve had in place to keep out the rest of the world had somehow been knocked off and I had no idea what to do with myself.
I sucked in a large breath. I admired his retreating form, especially that tight backside, which I wanted to feel against my palms. The farther away he got, the harder my body ached to touch him.
I looked up to the ceiling. I wasn’t one for believing in the supernatural, or even fate. I believed you made your own fate.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that Max Levin had been sent to help me with my bucket list problem.
Well played, Gram. Well played.
Chapter 3
Max
To say I was shocked that Everly had been challenged to go out with me was the understatement of the year. Well, not me exactly, but someone like me.
I had given her the dictionary definition of the guy she wouldn’t give the time of day. But it surprised the hell out of me when she called me on it, like she could actually see through the persona I had set in place years ago, the one people wanted me to be.
So it was no surprise that when I needed an out, I took it. The bright blue paper—the one that had matched her eyes—caught my attention. I had to look at it.
It wasn’t at all what I was expecting. A bucket list. My heart sank the moment she confirmed my suspicion. I wasn’t equipped with handling death. Not again. Luckily, that wasn’t the case.
I knew the moment I read the first item I was going to offer my services. In the most PG-13 way, of course. This date had nothing to do with sex. A shockingly true statement, and one I had never uttered before. It wasn’t because I didn’t find her attractive. On the contrary. Her innocence, blind ambition, and utter distaste for everything I stood for was the exact opposite of every woman I had ever pursued and exactly what drew me to her.
I’ve seen thousands of women naked. I’ve had more than my fair share of them in my bed, but never anyone like Everly Parker. The decision to keep my dick in check for once wasn’t going to be easy to uphold. Especially since the sight of her had caused the first stirrings inside my pants in I couldn’t remember how long.
Despite that, I knew Everly Parker wasn’t going to have sex with me. And maybe that’s exactly what I needed.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked the screen. It was Bryce Camden—the owner of the Concord Hotel. I lived in the penthouse. It was the third time he’d called in as many days, but I wasn’t in the mood so I ignored his call again. Which was unusual.
When I walked through the White Lace office, all heads turned to look at me. It’s not an arrogant statement; it’s simple fact—from the receptionist, to the security guards on duty, to the young kid who handled the mail. I was legend in this building simply because I was the son of Hirsh and Ellie Levin.
I’ll admit. It might have gotten to my head a little. How could it not? I was raised in a very liberal household, where sex was for pleasure and love was sacred and very much separate from the sins of the flesh.
My whole life had been built upon three things: making money, finding love, and seeking pleasure.
I lived by those ideals, but I preferred money and pleasure. Love, while my parents were in deep, was just something I couldn’t wrap my head around.
I made a shitload of money in porn and I used that money t
o find pleasure. I didn’t drive the wrong car. I didn’t date the wrong woman. I didn’t waste my time taking four years of college classes.
Maybe Everly was right. Maybe I did get everything I wanted.
“Max!” Just outside my office, I was cornered by Tara Cummings. She slipped her arm through mine and rested her head on my biceps, her blond hair tickling my skin. “Have you seen your dad today? I wanted to thank him for co-signing my car loan.”
My father the savior. Most of the actors we hired were young and ambitious, working their way through the sex trade in order to put themselves through school, or put food on the table for their children. He was always helping with loans or investments, anything he could do to make them achieve their goal sooner. But there were also the actors with haunted and traumatic pasts, those who fell into drugs or abusive relationships. My father wanted nothing more than to keep his employees safe, which meant getting involved in matters that he shouldn’t. Like putting girls into rehab or arranging for ex-boyfriends to disappear with a bag full of cash, having given their promise to never return. Some of the girls even lived with us on more than one occasion throughout my life.
Regardless of their situation, my father doing his damnedest to get them out of the industry was bad for our bottom line.
I stepped away, putting some distance between us, but she slithered even closer. “I just got here, Tara. Haven’t seen him.”
She pulled me to a stop, her brown eyes sparkling with the same look I’d seen a thousand times. The look I had never indulged. Not once. There was only one rule in this office: Don’t date the talent. “Maybe I could thank you instead.”
This woman had been making me work hard to keep that rule in place since I’d hired her a year ago. She was beautiful—her bright, kind smile her most positive attribute—but I couldn’t get involved. More importantly, I didn’t want to.
I gave her a half-smile. “I couldn’t possibly take the credit.”
She frowned, her shoulders dropping. The butterfly tattoo on her shoulder caught my attention. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to brighten your day?”
I knew exactly what was going to brighten my day, but I had a long way to go before seeing Everly this evening. A quickie in my office wasn’t going to suppress my excitement.
“I’m sure.” I patted her hand and pried it from my forearm.
With one last knowing look, she winked. “I’ll see you later, then.”
With a bounce in her step and a shake of her breasts, she walked away into one of the many lounges we had set up for the actors.
I shook my head, making my way toward my office. White Lace headquarters was simple, understated. We didn’t need a big space since we always filmed on location. With the exception of the movie posters that littered the walls, you’d think this was just another humdrum office.
I rapped my knuckles on my assistant’s desk and said a quiet, “Good morning.”
Barbara was a middle-aged woman, actually the mother of one of our former actors. Without looking up from her desk, she thrust a folder at me. “Budget reports from the feature.” She finally looked up. “We’re over.”
I cursed under my breath.
“I printed off the new communications campaign.” She knew I hated reviewing things on the computer. For some reason my brain analyzed more carefully in hard copy.
“Heavy focus on social media this time.” One of her eyebrows quirked up at me. Barb had been my assistant since I’d started working for my father full-time four years ago. She kept me organized and on track. I needed her…and she knew it.
“Good. It’s what I asked for.” Our subscription sales for the website were through the roof and I wanted to leverage that online community.
She handed me another folder. “Casting list for tomorrow.” She cocked her head. “Don’t some of these girls take the hint? I see the same names all the time.”
I laughed. “Apparently they don’t.”
I looked down at the casting list, also recognizing a couple of names. A few women had been trying for the last year to score a role in one of our productions, but they just didn’t have it. No matter how much collagen or Botox was pumped into their flesh, they didn’t have that…something. That spark I had a knack for picking out.
My father and I were a good team. I had an uncanny ability to sniff out the next big star. Signing unknowns and turning them into household names was the reason women were chomping at the bit to work here. On top of the excellent working conditions. My father and I worked hard to help them build a brand and create a following.
How did I get this talent? Who knows. Sometimes I think it’s comes naturally. Growing up in a house full of porn stars coming and going, maybe it was inevitable I’d be able to instinctively find the ones who had star quality.
I hid myself in my office, and an hour later Barb stuck her head in. I knew it was her without her even saying a word; her short, red hair was unmistakable from the corner of my eye. “I picked up your tuxedo from the dry cleaners and got your tickets for the gala. You’re all set for Thursday.”
I groaned. I’d forgotten about Thursday. I had received my obligatory invite to the annual gala for Phoenix House, a non-profit that ran six women’s shelters in the city. It was an organization close to my mother’s heart. She had spent a lot of her time and money helping hundreds of women looking for a fresh start. She’d even arranged to have an in-house career counselor on staff, working full-time, ensuring that every woman had the opportunity to make something of themselves. “Thanks, Barb. I had forgotten about it.”
She walked into my office and hung the tux on the coatrack to the right of my desk.
“There are two tickets.” She patted the envelope she’d stapled to the plastic.
“I told you I only need one.” I never brought a date to the gala. The women I dated all had a certain…look, and I’d be damned if I was going to subject them to curious stares and sneers.
“I don’t like you going into the lion’s den without backup.” She crossed her arms over her chest, feet shoulder-width apart, giving me her best motherly stare.
And I appreciated it. She was the closest thing to a mother I’d had in a long time.
“You want to come with me, Barb?”
“Honey, you don’t want to bring an old lady like me as your date.” She winked and approached, placing her hand against my cheek in a nurturing gesture. “You need to find yourself a nice girl, Max. One who isn’t trying to date you so she can get her cooch in a movie.”
I laughed. Despite her age and motherly instincts, Barb was nowhere near appropriate.
“Which is exactly why I go solo. I don’t need to perpetuate the stereotype these people already have of me.”
Showing up with a big-breasted bombshell was only going to make them laugh harder behind my back. Even though the wives that hung off the arms of some of these business tycoons who also donated looked like porn stars themselves.
“You know what those people are like. Why would I bring a woman there to deal with that?”
I never really understood why my mother wasted her time with a charity that for the most part believed our money was laundered, even extorted.
This year wouldn’t be any different. The partygoers would be a bunch of stuffy old men and women, boasting about European vacations and golf memberships, and never about the people they were supposed to be helping. They were only there for the pat on the back.
“Well, then, maybe you should bring a nice girl instead of the floozies you usually date.”
A nice girl? Where was I going to find—
Immediately, Everly popped into my head.
“Fuck.” I ran my fingers through my hair and held on tight, relishing the pull to my scalp. “Do I have to go?”
“You know the rules.” She had walked to the opposite side of my desk and now leaned against one of the leather chairs facing me. “Someone from the company has to, and your father isn’t that person.�
� My mother had left strict instructions, more of a goodbye letter than a will, dictating from beyond the grave what she wanted to accomplish. My father wouldn’t be caught dead at one of these events. So it was all left to me.
Around three o’clock, I got an email from Stella, letting me know both she and Jade wanted to come in for testing. Normally before I offered a contract, I arranged for a paid audition to test out their skills. As funny as some may think, sex is a skill. One that was developed and crafted over time. Greatness came with confidence, and first-timers were never that confident.
Now that the escorts had confirmed, I needed to break the good news to my father.
“Dad.” I knocked on his door, and smiled when I saw him hunched over his desk, his nose two inches away from the computer screen. He’d forgotten his glasses again.
“Maximillion!” he bellowed from behind his large oak desk.
I cringed. I hated when he called me by my given name. What the hell were my parents thinking when they chose it? I wasn’t some pretentious, rich douche who came from old money. My family’s money was very new and very tainted. At least according to most of the population.
Dad’s office wasn’t fancy. Gray walls and steel furniture. If it had been any other porn executive I’d know the steel was utilitarian—easy cleanup after contract meetings with aspiring starlets. But not my dad. While I knew he was a man who had needs, I was pretty sure he hadn’t been with any woman since my mother had passed. Unfathomable, considering his occupation. Temptation was around every corner. In every room. On every television and computer screen.
“Did we have a meeting?” He looked at the calendar on his desk and frowned. It was bare save for his computer, a tray with various papers, and a picture of my mother. Many people had an opinion of Hirsh Levin. Sinner. Blasphemer. Peddler of flesh. But to those who knew him, he was saintly, kind, and generous. And for me, loyal. Despite being surrounded by twenty-something porn stars he still went home every night to the same woman, despite her having sex with five other men that same week. Even when she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer. Even when she was too sick to smile. He still came home.
