by Lizzie Shane
“He isn’t going to bail.”
“You didn’t see how awful my father was. I wouldn’t want to have to put up with someone treating me like that at holidays. Let alone at the wedding! This is the man who’s supposed to walk me down the aisle. What if he gets to the altar and refuses to give me away? What if he decides to take the speak now option rather than holding his peace?”
“He won’t. Once he gets to know Josh, he’ll love him. Everyone likes Josh. He’s a prince among men.”
“Sure, but how’s he going to get to know him? He’s already on a plane back to Switzerland and God only knows when he’ll be back—and by ‘God’ I mean my father since he seems to think he’s the Almighty.”
“Maybe next time he’s back you can get together with Josh and Max. You said Max is good at smoothing things over with your father.”
“He is. That’s true. When he isn’t off banging models he refuses to bring home to meet my mother.”
Parv cringed—even though there hadn’t been any banging, she was hardly model material and she’d already met his mother. “Maybe he isn’t doing that anymore. Maybe he’s matured.” She remembered his words the night before with aching detail. “Maybe he’s thinking about settling down with someone special.”
Sidney groaned. “Oh God, not this again. Parv, do me a favor and don’t get all starry-eyed about my brother. The last thing I need right now is to be stuck in the middle when my brother and his fifteen second attention span break your heart.”
Parv winced, reliving the accidental kiss that she could not tell Sidney about, even if she desperately wanted to ask what it meant. And why Max would have hidden from his sister the fact that he was with her—which was impossible since Sidney was the sister in question.
This was why Sidney didn’t want them getting together. It blurred all sorts of lines that didn’t need to be blurred.
But if Max wanted to be with her…
She wasn’t going to say no. No matter how much Sidney might want to keep things easy between them. Some things were worth the complication.
That was what she told herself on Saturday, when she told Sidney everything was fine and got of the phone as quickly as possible. By the time Monday had rolled around and she still hadn’t seen or heard from Max, her rational side had managed to overrule her heart—reminding her that Max wasn’t known for his relationship longevity. For all she knew, he’d already lost interest. Or he regretted the kiss as much as she feared.
The more she thought about it, the more she couldn’t remember how it had started. She thought it had just sort of happened, but what if she’d leaned in and made the connection without realizing it and he’d just been too much of a gentleman to push her away? What if the accidental kiss had really been her accidentally throwing herself at him?
Was he avoiding her because he felt so awkward about the fact that she’d made a pass at him and he didn’t know how to let her down easy? If he’d wanted to kiss her, wouldn’t he have at least called by now? They were in the habit of talking almost every day. Or at least texting. And suddenly all she heard were crickets—and not the kind that came as a text notification.
By Monday afternoon, she was convinced she’d thrown herself at him and completely destroyed their friendship. Things were going to be strained between them now. This was exactly what Sidney had feared. One little accidental kiss could ruin everything—Parv didn’t even want to think about how much worse it would have been if she’d accidentally slept with him.
Though at least then she would have the memory of sleeping with him—and if the memory of the kiss was anything to go by, that might have been worth it.
But no. She’d stupidly fallen in love with him—or convinced herself that she had because he was a good friend with the body of a Greek god and she’d let herself over-rely on him because she was feeling lonely and lost. And then when she believed it was true love, she’d taken him to a family gathering designed to brainwash her into thinking romantically and then attacked him at the end of the night, ruining everything.
She needed distance. It was good that he’d been avoiding her for two days. She was never going to learn to stand on her own two feet if he was always there to support her. And she was a strong, independent woman. She was going to stand herself back up, damn it.
So she left the shop in Madison’s capable hands and walked down the block, ringing the bell over the door of Lacey’s Cakes.
Lacey stepped out of the back when she heard the bell, cleaning icing off her hands with the towel tucked into her apron, and stopped, frowning when she saw Parv in her lobby. Lacey had none of the delicacy of her name. A large, middle-aged Germanic woman with a perpetual glower, she aimed it at Parv now. “Can I help you?” she asked skeptically.
Lacey was on the town council that had denied all of Parv’s requests to extend Common Grounds’ hours. She was also Parv’s primary competitor for sweet treats on Main Street. Parv had always thought Lacey should have recused herself from those votes because of a potential conflict of interest, but Lacey hadn’t shared her opinion—and their relationship had been strained at best ever since.
But Lacey’s Cakes was also the best bakery in Eden and the only other one within walking distance of her place—which was a necessity considering how frequently the Jetta had taken to breaking down lately.
Parv straightened her spine and bit the bullet. “I’m sure you’ve heard Common Grounds is closing.”
“I have,” Lacey admitted—and at least she didn’t look pleased. Parv wasn’t sure she could have gone on if Lacey had done a victory lap.
“I was wondering if you needed some extra help over the holidays.”
Lacey frowned. “Look, I know your counter girls are good, but I don’t need someone on the cash register full time. What I need during the holiday rush is another baker.”
“I know. I wasn’t asking for Madison and Anna.” The two of them had both sworn to her that they already had jobs lined up for the winter semester. “I was asking for me.”
Lacey’s grumpy expression didn’t budge, but she did take a moment to consider it. “You wouldn’t be allowed to change any of my recipes,” she said finally. “I don’t want creativity. I want a worker bee.”
“I can do that.”
Lacey eyed her, speculative through her perma-glower. “It would be part time. And only fifteen dollars an hour.”
Parv resisted the urge to point out that after running a failing small business the money Lacey could pay her would actually be a raise. “I can work with that.”
“And just for the holidays. I don’t need help year round and I’m not going to keep you on for charity.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
Lacey continued to eye her. “Okay,” she said finally. “But you’ll have to sign a non-compete and if I catch you trying to poach any of my customers, I’ll fire your ass in a second and make sure no one else in Eden will ever hire you.”
“I’m not going to have a business, so I don’t know what I would do with your customers if I could poach them. Though you might be able to pick up some of mine if you consider letting me make one or two of their favorites.”
“I’ll consider it,” Lacey allowed grudgingly. “When can you start?”
“November sixteenth?” It was the day after her lease expired on Common Grounds. She would need to jump right in to keep herself from wallowing in depression anyway. And she would need the money if she wanted to keep eating and paying her rent.
Lacey nodded. “All right. The sixteenth.”
Parv wasn’t overly optimistic about the work environment at Lacey’s Cakes, but Lacey did know her stuff. Her wedding cakes were works of art and Parv would be able to learn from her, if nothing else. And make some money without the stress of worrying about paying her employees or covering her overhead.
She crossed back to Common Grounds and Madison looked up from the milk she was frothing when Parv joined her behind the counter. “Your friend was just her
e.”
“My friend?”
“The cute, flirty one. Max. You just missed him.”
“Story of my life. Did he leave a message?”
“Nope. Just took his Americano to go.” Madison eyed her, her baby blues concerned. “You okay, boss?”
“I’m great.” For a woman who’d just realized her accidental kiss was never going to be repeated. He hadn’t even said he’d be back or he’d see her soon. And apparently he’d flirted with Madison. Her love life just kept getting better and better.
Chapter Twenty
Max made himself wait two days before he dropped by Common Grounds after The Kiss.
Then he had to wait another two days while she wasn’t there when he dropped in for his coffee each morning, so it was Wednesday morning—during the busy morning rush which she was handling by herself—when he finally saw her for the first time since that night.
He’d given her space to think about things and decided he was going to take his cues from her. He hadn’t planned on kissing her, but once it had happened he wasn’t going to regret it. But he also wasn’t going to push it if it wasn’t something she wanted to repeat. He’d never really done the relationship thing—but he hadn’t been lying when he said he might want that for himself. Someday. And Parv was the kind of person he would want it with. He’d give it a try, if that was what she wanted—because chances to be with a girl like her didn’t come along every day—and Max was smart enough not to let good opportunities pass him by.
But when he walked into Common Grounds on Wednesday and she looked up at him, her expression frazzled and distant, he felt a distinct thud of disappointment when she didn’t smile. “Max. What can I get you?”
No mention of the kiss. No smile. No wink. Not even a glimmer in the back of her eyes saying she remembered kissing him on Friday night.
Shit.
She regretted the kiss. He’d thought she’d wanted it as much as he had—that she’d leaned in at the exact same moment so it was impossible to tell which one of them had initiated it. But what if that had been wishful thinking on his part? Or what if it had been an impulse, a whim—one she’d been regretting ever since?
“Americano,” he said through the dredge of disappointment. “Busy today.”
She nodded, her attention on her hands as she prepared drinks. He didn’t say anything until she’d handed off drinks to two other customers and he was the only one hovering near the counter waiting. This was her place of business. She was doing her job. Maybe he wasn’t reading distance so much as professionalism.
But when it was just him at the counter, she still didn’t look up. Still didn’t smile. The awkwardness remained.
He searched for some way to bring up the kiss without bringing up the kiss. “Did your niece get back down to LA okay?”
“She did.” Parv finally looked up, but her expression stayed blankly professional. “I really appreciate you being my plus one on Friday. I owe you one.”
Her plus one. Not her date. And owing him one didn’t exactly sound like a romantic overture. He shrugged. “It was nothing.”
“Maybe.” Was that relief in her eyes? “But thanks for coming with me anyway. Always a relief to have an ally at those things.”
“Any time.”
“Hopefully I won’t have to bother you again.”
Well. That was clear. He’d obviously read the situation wrong. He hadn’t dated anyone in a while—too busy with his business—and his rusty radar was probably reading all the signals wrong. He’d misinterpreted her interest. Okay then.
He grabbed his Americano, sliding over a bill to pay for it. “See you round, Parv.”
“See ya, Max.”
* * * * *
Parv held it together as she watched Max leave. She held it together through the morning rush, busy hands keeping her tangled up feelings from rising up to the top of her thoughts.
But then the afternoon lull hit and she was alone in Common Grounds, reliving his words.
It was nothing.
She leaned against the counter, breathing through emotions she couldn’t quite identify. It was over. That was good. Anything with Max would have been too complicated. And it never would have lasted. And it would have hurt like a bitch when it ended.
Better to end it now. Before it took a hold of her heart. She’d had the fantasy—for about two-point-two seconds. Now she could move on with reality. A reality in which she and Max were friends and nothing more. And where her person was still out there, waiting for her to find him.
* * * * *
“I was wondering why you’d been such a grumpy bastard lately, but now I get it.”
Max looked up from his computer, frowning at Candy where she leaned against his doorjamb, dressed like something out of a Raymond Chandler novel today. “I’ve been a grumpy bastard?”
“Just for a couple weeks.”
Since he’d kissed Parv and she’d put distance between them—she hadn’t dropped by his house once since her niece’s engagement party. No more cake pop deliveries. And he’d only seen her a couple of brief, rigidly awkward times at Common Grounds when he’d gone in to get his morning coffee.
Candy approached and lifted her cell phone, flashing the screen at Max too quickly for him to see what she was showing him. “Makes sense now.”
Parv was on her phone? “What is that?”
“The news just broke. About your dad.”
Panic spiked. Was his father okay? Was he sick? Dying? Was that why his parents had gotten divorced? But that didn’t make any sense. And why wouldn’t they have told him? Though the answer to that was obvious—his parents had always excelled at keeping things from their children in the name of protecting them.
“What about my father?”
Candy paled, her sympathetic expression falling into horror. “I thought you knew already.”
“What happened to my father, Candy?”
“Nothing.” She handed him the phone with the article brought up on the screen. “He got married.”
It made so much sense Max felt like an idiot for feeling even a faint shimmer of surprise. “Of course he did.”
She was twenty-five, the article said. Younger than Sidney. His administrative assistant. His six month pregnant administrative assistant.
What a cliché. He’d been banging his secretary.
But the photo that accompanied the article made something angry clench in Max’s stomach. His father looked smugly self-satisifed as he gazed at his blushing—and visibly pregnant—bride. So freaking proud of himself.
In a small ceremony with only family and close friends present…
No. No family could have been present. He hadn’t known. Sidney hadn’t known.
Had his mother known?
“I have to go out.”
“Sure,” Candy said, moving out of his way as he grabbed his keys and the suit jacket he’d thrown over the back of his chair. “We’ll hold down the fort here.”
“I know you will.”
Candy could run Elite Protection without him if it came to it. And today she would have to. He had to see his mother.
* * * * *
Sidney’s shiny new SUV was already in the driveway when Max pulled up. She must have seen the news as well—and if she’d been at the Once Upon a Bride office rather than filming her drive would have taken half the time his had. He’d had an hour to work up a dozen questions and replay all the possible answers in his mind, not calling, wanting to read his mother’s face when he asked her.
He’d tried calling his father from the car—getting voicemail on every number he tried until he resorted to calling the Titacorp offices and was transferred through three different receptionists before being informed that Mr. Dewitt was unavailable as he was currently on his honeymoon.
His honeymoon. The man who hadn’t even taken the time to fly home for birthdays or graduations had whisked his new wife off to some Mediterranean villa for the week.
“Why w
ould you keep something like that from us?” Sidney was demanding—not quietly—when Max let himself in through the front door, in no mood to knock.
“It was your father’s choice.”
Max followed the sound of their voices into the living room, stopping in the archway opening. “So you did know.”
“About Claudine?” His mother turned toward him, taking his arrival in stride. “Yes. I knew. But it wasn’t my place to tell you. Your father had his reasons for wanting to keep it quiet and even if I disagreed with his choice, I had to respect his decision.”
“He violated the prenup,” Max reminded her. “You could have gone after him for millions.”
“My lifestyle is perfectly comfortable without your father’s money,” Marguerite said, in what had to be the understatement of the century as she stood in the vaulted living room of her three million dollar mansion.
“Why aren’t you angry?” Sidney demanded. “He cheated on you.”
“I know. I’ve known for almost three years. And I think he genuinely loves her. Isn’t that better than cheating for cheating’s sake? He wasn’t trying to hurt me. I’m not sure I ever entered into his decision to be with her.”
“You’re his wife,” Max snapped. “Don’t you think you should have entered into the decision?”
“Oh God,” Sidney groaned. “She was twenty-two when he started sleeping with her?”
“Our relationship hasn’t been exclusive for years,” Marguerite said, calm and cool as if she was facing her board. “Did you think it had been? We only see each other two or three times a year. Even old people have needs.”
Max cringed. He’d thought more about his parents’ sex life in the last two hours than he’d planned to for his entire life. “Why didn’t you tell us this was why you were getting divorced? Don’t you think we had a right to know?”
“This wasn’t why we decided to get divorced. The divorce was my choice. Your father viewed his relationship with Claudine as a separate matter. I think he should have told you, but it wasn’t my decision. And quite frankly it doesn’t concern me anymore. I’m sorry that you’re upset, but it wasn’t my call. I recommend you speak to your father. I have a business to run.” She pivoted on her heel and marched back to her home office—from which she worked most days so her commute didn’t cut into her productive hours.
