Who Gets to Marry Max?

by Neesa Hart

  Sidney nodded. “Of course.”

  “Meet me in the gazebo,” he prompted with a quick look at his watch, “in, say, ten minutes?”

  MAX GRABBED his brother’s sleeve in a tight-fingered grip. “I need to see you.”

  Greg glanced nervously at his watch. “Now? I, uh, have an appointment.”

  “Now.” He jerked Greg into the library where a weeping Lauren Fitzwater, her scowling father, and her simpering mother were grating Max’s already too-tight nerves. Greg assessed the small group with a slight wince. “Hello, Lauren.”

  She raised tear-filled eyes to his. “Greg.”

  Edward swore as he lurched from his chair. “You bastard.” He would have stalked forward, but Max quelled him by shoving Greg into a chair. Edward started to pace. Lauren continued to cry.

  Max reached for the shredded remains of his formidable calm. “All right. Lauren, you start.”

  She hiccuped. “I thought—I thought everything was going so well.” Her sodden gaze found Greg’s. “This wasn’t my idea, you know.”

  To his credit, Greg had the decency to squirm. “I know.”

  Edward glared at him. “We had an agreement.”

  “Daddy—”

  He held up a hand to interrupt his daughter. “Let me handle this, Lauren.”

  Max gritted his teeth. “Calm down, Edward.”

  The older man faced him with a dark scowl on his already flushed features. “Calm down? You’re as bad as he is. You’re pushing them because you want Fitzwater Electronics.”

  Max refused to take the bait. “I have tried to persuade Greg that I think he’s fortunate to have a woman like Lauren in his life. It’s got nothing to do with business.”

  Edward gasped. Lauren shot Max a watery smile. “Thanks.”

  He nodded. “It’s true.” His gaze swung to her father. “And you know it. Fitzwater is ripe for takeover. If I didn’t do it, someone else would.”

  If possible, Edward’s face turned redder. His wife held out a beseeching hand. “Darling, sit down. Please.”

  Edward stalked toward Max. “You greedy son of a bitch.”

  Max lost his slender hold on his patience. Greg, he noted, kept glancing out the window with a wistful expression Max recognized as his preflight look. “Sit down, Edward,” he commanded.

  With a stunned expression on his face, the older man dropped into his chair. Max cleared his throat. “Now. I want all of you to shut up and let Lauren tell me what’s going on.”

  Edward sputtered, “But she—”

  “Shut up, Edward.” He glanced at Lauren. “What happened?”

  She looked nervous, but, he noticed to his great relief, calmer. She raised her gaze to his. “I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t mean to make a scene.”

  “I doubt it’s your fault,” Max said quietly. His brother shot him a mutinous look. “What’s going on?”

  “Greg—” she glanced at him, “Greg thinks maybe we should wait a while longer before we announce our engagement.”

  Max’s eyebrows lifted. “I wasn’t aware there was an engagement.”

  Edward’s breath came out in a hiss. “You son of a—”

  “Darling, please.” His wife laid a hand on his sleeve. “Let Lauren finish.”

  Lauren was still looking at Greg. Greg was still gazing out the window. “We hadn’t told anyone. He asked me a month ago.”

  A wave of relief crashed through Max. He struggled to suppress a triumphant smile and merely nodded. “And you said yes.”

  “Yes. I did.”

  “Why?”

  Greg jerked his gaze from the window. The look he gave Max was glacial. “Thanks for your support.”

  Max shrugged. “I was curious, not critical.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  Lauren brushed a hand over her silk dress. “Because,” she said quietly, “fool that I am, I’m in love with your brother.”

  Greg finally looked at her. “Lauren.”

  She nodded. “It’s true, Greg. I know you thought I was doing it for Daddy. I wasn’t.” She looked at her father. “I wouldn’t.”

  His brother, Max noted, had paled. Lauren drew a shuddering breath. “I did it because I’m in love with you.” Her voice faltered on the last. “But if you’ve changed your mind—”

  “I haven’t changed my mind,” he asserted.

  Max impaled him with a sharp look. “Are you sure?”

  Greg swallowed. “I’m sure.”

  Edward growled. “Then what the hell was going on out there, just now?”

  All eyes turned to Greg. He tugged at his collar. “I don’t know. It’s the pressure.” He looked at Max. “You’re pushing too hard.”

  Max said nothing. Greg hesitated, then looked away. “Everyone at this party knows we’re supposed to announce our engagement before tomorrow night. And everyone also knows that when we do, Fitzwater Electronics and Loden Enterprises will be well on their way to a merger.” He shrugged. “I don’t like flaunting my life in front of spectators.”

  Max snorted. “It’s never stopped you before.”

  “This is different,” his brother snapped. “It’s personal.”

  “I’m glad you realize that,” Max said.

  Greg frowned at him. “You can’t make all my choices for me, Max. You don’t get to run my life.”

  “No,” he said slowly, “but you certainly enjoy your access to the family finances.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Do I need to?”

  Lauren gasped. “Max, please.”

  He looked at her. “Don’t worry, Lauren. I’m not going to cut him off and leave you hanging.”

  Edward swore again. Lauren looked stung. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Wrestling with an unexpected burst of guilt, he waved his hand in an agitated motion. “This is pointless. All I want to know is, can we expect another scene like this before tomorrow night, or not?”

  Greg’s mouth twitched in an unpleasant smirk. “You mean, are we going to give in and let you have your way?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  Lauren stood. “Please, both of you. Stop it. If Greg wants to wait, we’ll wait.”

  “How long?” Max pressed.

  “As long as he needs,” Lauren said quietly.

  Max looked at Greg. “Give her a timetable.”

  His brother’s eyes glittered. “Max—”

  “Do it,” he said quietly. Too quietly.

  Greg’s jaw visibly clenched. “You can’t—”

  “Do it.” He bit out each word with careful precision.

  Greg hesitated a second longer, then finally shot Max a resentful look. “Fine. We’ll do it tomorrow night. After dinner.”

  “Greg—” Lauren held out her hand.

  Greg shook his head. “It’s all right, Lauren. If you want to marry into this family, you might as well learn this now. Everything’s easier when Max gets his way.” He levered out of his chair and stalked from the room.

  Lauren whispered a soft apology and hurried after him. Edward Fitzwater looked at Max with a slightly menacing expression, while his wife studied the beadwork on her handbag. Max fought with a rare burst of conscience. He felt like a jerk, he realized. And it was disturbing the hell out of him. “Anything else you wanted, Edward?” He couldn’t keep the edge from his voice.

  The older man glared at him. “Has anyone ever told you how much of a bastard you are?”

  “Plenty of times.”

  “Edward—” his wife reached for his hand. “It’s all right. Lauren wouldn’t agree if she weren’t happy with Greg’s decision.”

  Edward looked unconvinced. “You have no principles at all, do you?”

  Max didn’t bother to respond. He had no answer. “If we’re through, I’d like to get back to my party.”

  With a grunt, Edward stood. “I’m sure you would.” He reached for his wife’s hand. “I think we’ll r
etire. Good night.”

  Max waited until they’d closed the library door behind them to exhale the tight breath that squeezed his lungs. “Damn,” he whispered, not entirely sure why his head suddenly pounded and his stomach felt knotted. He’d gotten what he wanted. He should have felt better.

  With a sharp flick of his wrist, he switched off the lamp on his desk, throwing the room into near darkness. He could more clearly see the terrace now, where his guests milled about in blissful ignorance of his turmoil. Music filtered into the room, and in the soft glow of the Chinese lanterns, he saw Greg—his white jacket visible even in the shadows—making his way to the gazebo.

  Max felt his fingers clench into a fist. He watched Greg’s retreating figure for long seconds, then, for the first time in his life, deliberately looked the other way.

  Chapter Five

  The following morning, Max stood on Philip Grant’s front porch and knocked on the door. Gertie jerked it open. Her face registered a mild surprise. “Mr. Loden.”

  Max peered past her into the dim interior. “How’s Philip?”

  She held up a warning hand, then slipped outside to join Max on the porch.

  “Resting,” the older woman said. “He had a bad night.”

  “Is he worse?”

  “I think he’s a little better this morning. His fever might have broken.”

  “How long can it take for the flu to run its course?”

  “Days,” Gertie assured him. “There’s a strain going around that knocks people out for a week.”

  Max’s eyes drifted shut on a sigh of frustration. He was mind-numbingly exhausted. As if that confrontation with his brother hadn’t been enough to shred his nerves, now he had a situation at one of his plants to deal with. His attorney had called last night to give him the news—one of Loden Enterprises’ manufacturing facilities had suffered an explosion. Max probably had a few dead, or at least seriously injured employees. He was still waiting for a report. He focused bleary eyes on Gertie. “Is he awake? I want to see him.”

  Gertie wavered. “I’m sure he’d love to visit with you, but I wouldn’t stay long. Sam and Elena came by this morning to assure him everything’s all right at home.” She looked at Max. “You can imagine how worried he is about not being with you this weekend.”

  “Everything’s under control,” Max assured her. “Sidney’s taking very good care of me.” Thank God, he thought. Without Philip on hand, Max didn’t think he’d have felt secure leaving the estate—no matter how good the reason—with anyone but Sidney in charge. The company and the employees needed him, but, as usual, he felt pulled in too many directions. Realizing that Gertie was still looking at him from beneath raised eyebrows, he concluded, “Sidney’s very good at what she does.”

  Gertie’s gaze visibly warmed. “I’m sure she is.” She pushed open the door. “He’s resting on the sofa.”

  The darkened room felt stifling. Max had to suppress the urge to pull back the curtains and lighten the place up. Wrapped in a cotton throw, Philip lay on the sofa looking exhausted and pale—a shadow of the vibrant man he knew. He strode forward to sit in the chair by the couch. “How are you feeling, Philip?”

  His eyes fluttered open. “Better than I look, I assure you.”

  The quip cheered him. “I’m glad.”

  “Did you bring Sidney?”

  “I didn’t tell her I was coming. She’s at the estate.”

  Philip nodded. “Good. She’s needed there.” He struggled to sit up, but Max placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Don’t,” he told him, “that’s an order.”

  Philip gave him a weak smile. “As if that ever worked. I’m not very good at taking orders.”

  “Humor me,” Max muttered.

  Philip coughed. “How are things at the estate?”

  “Fine. Sidney’s showing her mettle. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Next thing I know—” a painfully dry cough squeezed from his chest “—she’ll be taking my job.”

  “Not likely.” He watched Philip through narrowed eyes. “No one could replace you, old man, and you know it.”

  “That’s the way I like it.”

  Max’s nod was short. “I don’t doubt it.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Other than to see you?”

  Philip nodded. “It must be serious or you wouldn’t have left the estate.”

  “I’ve got some business problems I need to handle. Nothing major, I assure you. I’ll be home tonight.”

  “Has young Mr. Loden made his announcement yet?”

  “He’s promised me he’ll do it at tonight’s dinner party.”

  “You need to be there.”

  “I will.”

  Philip seemed satisfied. “I’ve thought of a few things I forgot to tell Sidney. I’ll have to call her.”

  “She’s busy,” Max said carefully. “Tell me, and I’ll let her know.”

  “She needs to make sure the wine steward doesn’t forget that Edward Fitzwater prefers the Chenenceaux claret. There’s a case in the cellar.”

  “All right.”

  “And see that the kitchen staff regularly replaces the fruit in the guest rooms. I don’t want bruised produce in those bowls.”

  Max suppressed a smile. “I’m sure you don’t.”

  “How is Natalie?”

  Max grunted. “She’d be a hell of a lot better if Alice Northrup-Bowles had stayed home, you old coot.”

  “Is Sidney keeping her busy?”

  “Of course. Sidney has made sure that Natalie is completely involved in the party’s success. She hasn’t had a chance to brood over Alice’s malicious nature.”

  “I knew I could count on Sidney.”

  Max crossed his arms over his chest. “You should have told me Alice was coming, Philip.”

  “You would have rescinded Mr. Lort’s invitation.”

  “I would have told Ray Lort he could go to hell.”

  “My point exactly.” Philip lifted an unsteady hand to stroke his chin. “Sometimes, you don’t always know that certain things are for your own good.”

  “But you do?”

  “It’s my job.” Philip gave him an intense look. “Someone has to look after you.”

  Max resisted the urge to look away. What was it about this family, he wondered, that gave them the ability to zero in on his few vulnerabilities? “You’d be very proud of Sidney. She’s got everything running with her usual precision.” He exhaled a long breath. “Is there anything else you need, Philip? I’ve got to get to the office.”

  “No. Gertie’s taking very good care of me. And Sam and Elena came out this morning to check on us. I’ll be fine. Just wish I wasn’t confined to this blasted couch. You’re sure everything’s all right out there?”

  “I don’t want you to worry about anything.” Max rose to his feet. “We miss you, of course, but I assure you we’ll have Greg safely engaged by tonight.”

  Philip’s eyes drifted shut. “I knew you would. You’re in excellent hands.”

  Max exhaled a soft breath. “And I’m very much looking forward to it.” He carefully studied Philip’s ashen face. “You picked a hell of a time for this.”

  Philip met his gaze. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

  The sly old fox knew exactly what he was doing, Max thought. “I’m not complaining, I assure you. In fact, I’d say your timing is going to serve me quite well.”

  Gertie joined them by the couch. “All that matters,” she said firmly, “is that everything is taken care of.” She patted Philip’s hand. “You’re not even to think about going back to work until you’re completely well.”

  Philip lifted his eyes to Max. “This engagement is going to be quite demanding. You know that.”

  “I’ve thought of that.” Max wiped a hand through his hair. “Greg’s engagement to Lauren means my entertaining schedule is about to go haywire. I’ve never planned a wedding before. Natalie and Colleen h
andled their own and gave me the bills. As I recall,” his eyebrows lifted as he looked at his butler, “you were heavily involved in their plans.”

  “A society wedding requires an extensive amount of planning. There’s nothing like having a professional on your team.”

  Max shrugged. “I’m sure Lauren will rise to the occasion. Her father wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Philip shook his head. “Still, the next few months will be extremely demanding on your schedule and your personal life.”

  “It’s Greg’s wedding,” Max said carefully.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Not really.”

  “There’ll be an engagement party, a bachelor party, something extravagant to make Edward Fitzwater feel like he hasn’t been railroaded into anything—”

  “That would take a small miracle.”

  “You’ve got a lot to think about.” Philip’s voice held a warning note.

  Max flashed him a wry smile. “You’ve got to get better soon, old man. I’m not sure how I’ll survive without you telling me what to do and how to act.”

  “You’ll need help.”

  “You’ve got that right.” Max shook his head. “I’ve got a company to run, a merger to manage, and a brother whose hand is going to need holding until he finally walks down the aisle.”

  “What you need,” Philip said carefully. “Is a professional.”

  “What I need is a trainer.”

  “Then I recommend that you talk to Sidney. No one could do a better job of managing your social calendar for the next several months.”

  Max stilled. “Sidney?”

  “Naturally. She’s the obvious choice. She knows your family well, will have informed opinions about your brother’s preferences and the dynamics of, er, family gatherings. I think you should talk to her about a contract.”

  Satisfaction flared through Max. A contract. Something binding. Something that meant she was legally his. Something that wasn’t subject to mercurial moods and changes of heart. “I’m in need of professional services,” he said carefully. “On an exclusive basis.”

  “As you’ve said, your schedule will be quite demanding. I don’t see how she could manage other events simultaneously. Her assistant will have to take over.”