by Lizzie Shane
The chime came again after he’d inched forward two car lengths.
What else do you want?
Was she flirting with him? His heartbeat accelerated. Then the chime came again.
What do you get the man who has everything?
He didn’t have everything. He didn’t have her.
Holy shit. He was in love with Parvati. When the hell had that happened? And how had it taken him so long to realize it?
Max typed again, trying not to scare her off, but needing her so badly his heart pounded with it. I expect at least a cake.
His pulse drummed in his ears as he waited for her reply, driving north past the accident and into the regular evening congestion. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it felt like fifty before the chime came again.
Max held his phone in one hand, the urge to sneak a peek at the text killing him as he waited for the next stoppage. Why did the damn traffic have to flow so smoothly now? Finally, he pulled off into a turn-out, unable to wait any longer.
Deal. I’m at work now. Do you have plans later or should I bring your cake to your place after we close?
His heart drummed in his ears. My place is perfect.
Now he just had to keep from killing himself with his impatience to get home to her.
* * * * *
Max cleaned—not that he’d been home enough lately to get the house dirty. And he did have a cleaning service come in once a week to do the dusting and vacuuming, but he needed something to do with his hands while he was waiting for Parv.
He was nervous.
Max Dewitt didn’t do nervous—even when he was jumping out of a plane or negotiating a three-million dollar deal—but Parv changed the rules.
She’d seemed to want to keep things on a Just Friends level lately, but she’d had a crush on him once. He could work with that. Max knew how to be persuasive. But Parv had always seen right through his bullshit. The usual game wouldn’t work with her. Not that he wanted it to. He didn’t want games. Not with her.
When the doorbell finally rang, he was ready to jump out of his skin. He threw open the door and there she was—the smile on her face easing the crazy agitation in his chest.
Her hair was loose around her shoulders in dark waves, though there was a kink in it just below her ears, like it had been yanked back in a tight ponytail all day and just released as she was walking up the driveway. Her eyes were dark and smiling, and there was a smudge of flour on the side of her neck that made his thumb itch to rub it away.
It had been too long since she’d been here. No wonder he’d been going crazy.
“Happy Birthday!” She brandished the cake, one of the fancy, sugary confections from Lacey’s Cakes, and brushed past him into the house. “Can I just say how weird it is to have a boss who insists I have to ring up my employee purchases through her? I had to go through the most ridiculous song and dance to get a cake that I baked for you.”
“You don’t like working for Lacey?”
“I don’t hate it.” She made her way to the kitchen, setting down the cake and making herself at home, getting out serving plates and a knife. “Actually, it’s pretty great. I just wish I actually had job security. She decided to keep me on after the holidays because I was ‘an efficient addition to the business’ but she cut my hours back and she keeps reminding me it’s only temporary. Sometimes she looks at me and I wonder if she thinks I’m planning some elaborate Cake Coupe D’état. As if I would go to all the trouble of closing Common Grounds just to mess with the competition.”
“A baker with a persecution complex?”
“Don’t let the icing fool you. It’s a cut-throat business.” She mimed cutting her throat with the giant cake knife, grinning ear to ear, and then sliced mercilessly into the cake.
“Hey. Don’t I get to blow out the candles?”
“I didn’t bring candles. And the boy who has everything doesn’t get to make additional wishes. That’s just greedy.”
He wasn’t going to get a better opening than that. Max looked into the bottomless depth of her eyes. “I do still have one thing I would wish for—”
Her cell phone buzzed, ruining the moment and breaking the eye contact as she fished it out of a pocket and flicked a thumb across the screen to shut it up—but not before he saw the contact photo of the person calling her. He didn’t recognize the name, but the photo was of Parv and a man he didn’t know, their faces mashed close together, grinning goofily.
“Who’s that?”
Parv looked up and smiled—and his hopes dropped to his stomach before she even said the words. “It’s my boyfriend.”
Shit.
* * * * *
Parv wasn’t prepared for the long beat of silence that met her announcement. She and Max were just friends, right? She hadn’t even seen him in almost two months. After the disappearing act he’d pulled, he couldn’t expect her to be waiting for him, still pining for him…could he?
He almost looked disappointed. Definitely taken aback. And suddenly she wished she’d asked what he would have wished for. Had it been her?
Tripping on the heels of that thought was the guilty reminder that it didn’t matter what Max wanted. She was with Parker now.
“We met online, but he’s so different from the others,” she said, filling up the space between them with details as a barrier. “He asked me out for jellybeans.”
“Jellybeans?”
She blushed, feeling oddly defensive of the little moment that had become part of her and Parker’s story. “He said everyone goes out for coffee and we should be different. It was cute.”
And it had made her feel like she was special, not just another face in the online crowd. Parker was good at that.
She’d been too hung up on Max. She should be grateful to him for pulling a Houdini on her because if she’d been seeing him every day she may never have let herself give Parker a real chance.
“What’s his name?”
“Parker. I know. Parvati and Parker. It’s awful how cute it is. Sidney calls him Perfect Parker. I think she’s mostly relieved I’ve found someone and I’ll finally stop whining about being alone all the time.” She plated up a slice of cake.
“I’m sure that isn’t true.” He pulled open a drawer, grabbing forks for them both as she sliced another piece.
“I know. I know she’s happy for me. But the last person we all dubbed Mr. Perfect didn’t really live up to the title so I guess it makes me nervous.” The Mr. Perfect on Sidney’s season of the reality show had turned out to be far from it.
“What’s his last name?”
“For the background check? It’s Simmons. And you won’t find anything. He’s perfectly, boringly normal. That’s the best thing about him.”
“That he’s boring?” Max frowned as they took their cake to the breakfast bar.
“That he’s a nice, normal guy. I get enough of an insecurity complex in my family. I don’t need it in my relationship.” And Parker had understood that. “He’s in middle management at a home goods store. And he likes that I just make cakes for a living.”
“I like that too,” Max mumbled around a mouthful of the cake in question. “This is incredible.”
“I don’t expect you to get it. You’re a super achiever like everyone in my family and you date super models.”
“Models, maybe. I haven’t reached super level yet.”
“My point is I’m dating in my league and I like it.”
“That’s bullshit.” He pointed his fork at her. “You’re amazing. Anyone who thinks he’s out of your league is a dumbass who doesn’t deserve you.”
“You don’t get it. I can be myself with Parker. I don’t have to worry about making a good impression or living up to expectations. From the very first day we met, I was able to just be honest with him. To just be me. You have no idea how freeing that is.”
“You can’t be yourself with me?”
She rested her hand on his arm. “Of cour
se I can. But you’ve known me forever and I still sometimes worry that you’re going to judge me as a failure. And I’m not trying to date you. When you’re in a couple with someone, you reflect on each other more than just friends do. So people are more sensitive to the flaws in their partner.”
“Is this guy saying you’re flawed?”
“No. That’s my point. He likes me just the way I am.” She smiled, patting his arm one last time before lifting her hand and picking up her fork. “You don’t have to protect me from him, Max.”
“I’m still running a background check.”
“I would expect nothing less. But don’t be surprised when you don’t find anything. He’s honest with me.”
“So you think.”
“Why would he lie about being a store manager?”
His dark expression didn’t lighten. “People lie for all sorts of reasons. Do you have his fingerprints?”
Parv laughed and leaned over to hug Max from the side, though his muscles remained rigid as she squeezed. “I’ve missed you, Maximus. Where’ve you been all this time?”
She didn’t know why Max had suddenly decided to reenter her life, but she couldn’t deny she was glad he had—even if it did make her relationship with Parker feel a little more complicated. Though it shouldn’t. The two things had nothing to do with one another.
“Working,” Max replied. “After my father married his twenty-something secretary and she had his baby, I sort of lost my center for a while there. Work was the only thing that made sense.”
Parv cocked her head to the side, studying Max’s profile over a forkful of cake. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, but why did that hit you so hard? You guys never had what most people would consider a normal relationship with your father.”
“You aren’t a jerk. I actually asked myself the same question.” He shoved his empty plate away, spinning his fork on one tine. “Why was I letting anything he did bother me if I’d always been determined to prove I could succeed without his help?”
“And? Did you figure it out?”
“It’s the lying. The hiding. Why couldn’t he just tell us? I could accept him being the distant father we only saw a couple times a year. I could accept that my parents weren’t really that invested in the idea of parenting from the start. I made my peace with all that a long time ago. But the idea that he’s had this secret life and he never saw fit to even mention it to Sidney or me—that just pisses me off. Especially when he’s making this big show about how I’m his legacy at the separation proceedings. Who does that?”
“Have you talked to him since you found out?”
“No. He calls sometimes, but I don’t know what to say to him. I guess I’ll see him at Sidney’s wedding.”
“That’s months from now. Do you want this hanging over you that entire time?”
Max stood, gathering up their dishes and carrying them to the sink. “It isn’t hanging over me. I’m good.”
“Which is why you’re working yourself to death?”
“I had lunch with my mother today,” Max said, rinsing the plates as Parv moved to put the leftover cake away. “She made me see the error of my overworking ways. I’m here with you, aren’t I? You can keep me from working myself into an early grave.”
“Then it’s a good thing I brought my guaranteed de-stress film masterpiece.” She grabbed her oversized purse where she’d dropped it on the island and fished out the DVD. ”Inigo Montoya and the Dread Pirate Roberts?”
Max grinned. “Don’t you have that movie memorized? You and Sidney must have watched it every weekend in middle school.”
“Because it’s just that good. And memorization enhances the experience. Come on, birthday boy. I defy you not to be cheered up by The Princess Bride.”
His gaze went pensive. “How did you know I needed to be cheered up?”
“When are you going to figure it out?” She grinned. “I know you, Max Dewitt.”
* * * * *
By the time Westley and Buttercup had ridden off into the sunset on their matching white horses, Parvati was out cold, sprawled out on his couch with her head lolling on his thigh. Max absently rubbed a lock of her hair between his thumb and fingers, turning over in his mind what a bitch timing could be.
He’d missed his window—but maybe he wasn’t in love with her after all because he didn’t feel heartbroken. He felt…relieved. Relieved that they could be friends again, without the complications of more. This was good. It didn’t need to be about sex. He’d missed her, and if sex got involved he would invariably screw it up and then he’d be missing her all over again. This time for good.
No. It was better this way.
He shook her shoulder gently as the credits rolled and she stirred, twisting to blink sleepily up at him. She’d never been much of a night owl. Funny, the things he hadn’t even realized he knew about her.
“Early morning at the bakery?” he asked.
She scrubbed at her eyes, grimacing. “Always. Did I miss the Pit of Despair?”
“I think you missed everything from the Fire Swamp on.”
She shoved at his thigh, leveraging herself into a sitting position at his side. “Sorry. Not much of a birthday party.”
“Best birthday I’ve had in years. And I have cake for breakfast.”
“How do you have abs like yours if you have cake for breakfast?”
“Are you supposed to be noticing my abs? Won’t Perfect Parker object?”
“I think a cake-to-ab ratio question is fair game.”
Max shrugged. “I work out.”
She groaned. “Like it’s nothing. Like anyone can eat cake for breakfast and have abs of steel. You know, sometimes I hate you.”
“You’ve said that before. Luckily, I never seem to believe you.”
She looked at him—and something of the way he wanted her must have shown on his face because her own open, easy expression shuttered for a moment and she stood. “I should get home.”
Max rose, walking her out without protest. When they got to the door, he held it open for her. “Hey, Parv?”
She paused on the threshold, looking back at him.
“If this Parker ever hurts you, I’ll kill him slowly.”
She seemed to realize he wasn’t joking because her eyes softened as she turned back to face him. “You don’t have to worry about that. He would never touch me.”
“There are other ways people can be hurt.”
“I know. But he isn’t like that. Parker will never cheat on me.”
“How can you be so sure? You’ve known this guy, what? A couple months?”
“Only a few weeks actually. But I know.” She hesitated, then leaned in confiding, “His last couple girlfriends cheated on him. He knows what it feels like. He’s been hurt too badly by women who used him, so I know he would never do that to me. My heart is safe with him, Max. He could really be my guy.”
He took a moment to process that one, nodding slowly. “Then I’m happy for you.”
And the craziest thing was that he really was happy for her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Parker’s background check came back so squeaky clean Max had Candy dig deeper—twice—just to be sure. Not that he wanted to find something. He just needed to know that Parvati was in good hands.
Part of him was relieved that Parker Simmons seemed to be the nice, boring guy that Parv thought he was. But another part—a part he wasn’t proud of—couldn’t help the bitter spike of frustration that there were no skeletons in his closet that Max could use to drive so-called-Perfect Parker away.
Not that he would have done that.
Okay, yes, he would have done it. But it would have been for Parvati’s own good. He was looking out for her. As a friend, damn it.
At least they were back on speaking terms. He may have missed his window, but he hadn’t completely screwed up their friendship.
He still wanted to meet this Parker, to get a read on him personally, but Parv didn
’t seem to be in any hurry to make that happen and he wasn’t going to push. But he was going to be ready with an unmarked grave if Perfect Parker ever laid a finger on her.
* * * * *
The letter arrived on a Saturday morning, hand-delivered by her landlady.
“Here it is!” Carolina announced cheerfully as she handed over the envelope. “The official notice.”
Parv frowned as she accepted the bulging white packet. “Official notice?”
Carolina’s face fell. “Oh no. Antonio said he would call you.”
Dread congealed. “Call me about what?”
“We’re moving. It started to feel wasteful, keeping the house in Eden when all the kids are in college and we’re spending most of the year on the boat anyway. You know better than anyone how rarely we’re here.”
“I do,” Parv admitted numbly, her thoughts racing ahead to the inevitable.
“We hadn’t really considered selling until a buyer approached us with a cash offer and it just seemed perfect. I’m so sorry. Antonio was supposed to contact you about this weeks ago.”
“The new buyers…”
“Want to use the mother-in-law apartment. I can talk to them about letting you stay on for a month or two—until you can find something else. I’m going to kill Antonio.”
Parv muttered something vaguely understanding, barely aware of her surroundings. She hadn’t had a formal lease agreement with Carolina and Antonio in years. They were casual and month-to-month—which she’d thought was convenient if she ever got on Marrying Mister Perfect or fell madly in love with a tycoon and decided to run away to Monte Carlo with him, but in retrospect just meant she wasn’t protected against a situation like this one. “How long do I have?”
“We close in three weeks. You’ll need to be out by March first, unless we can negotiate an extension.”
Three weeks.
She started to call Max as soon as Carolina retreated back to the main house, standing in her lovely little apartment with the sobering realization that she would never be able to afford anything half this nice…and she wasn’t sure she could meet the income requirements to get an apartment on her own. She might have to sublet a room in someone else’s place. At thirty. When her friends were getting married and buying houses, she was reverting back to a college mode of living.
