With the First Goodbye (Thirty-Eight Book 5)

by Len Webster

  “I also had to prove myself to all the lawyers at the firm. That I didn’t become a lawyer because it was the family business. I wanted to help people. I ended up helping terrible companies. But in the past nine or ten months, it’s been about helping good and honest people.”

  “That’s great, Max.”

  His chest filled with warmth knowing and seeing how proud she was of him in her blue eyes. He wanted that. To see it every day.

  “So what kind of advice do you need?”

  “The how-to-get-an-interview advice. I have recommendations from a few of my tutors. I kind of lied and told them I had interviews, but I think I’m late in the applying game,” she admitted with a layer of shame in her voice. “I just kept putting it off, and I keep hearing everyone securing their placements. I think the top four firms have their graduate positions already filled.”

  She’s afraid to really ask for my help.

  “Josephine, I can help you get an interview. Tell me your dream firm and I can call a few of my connections—”

  “No, Max. I have to do this on my own. I mean, I appreciate that you’d go above and beyond, but I just need tips on how to approach firms and what to say.”

  “I can get you a placement,” he assured.

  “I know, and I appreciate that. I do. Just tell me the things I should avoid saying, and we’ll work from there.” Then she pulled her hand away and gave him the most hesitant smile he had ever seen.

  Max pulled his hand back to rest on the table next to his plate. He realised what he had done.

  She needed advice.

  Not a handout.

  He knew he’d have to speak to his father to see if he could find her a placement at Gordon Sheridan or one of his old associates’ firms.

  Tomorrow, Max would get her numbers and names so she could set up the interviews herself.

  “You shouldn’t have paid, Max,” Josie said, her big blue eyes staring up at him with that mild hint of annoyance mixed with her appreciation.

  He set his hand on the small of her back and led her away from the register. “It wasn’t a work dinner, Josephine. I wasn’t letting my father pay for me to take you to a dinner you deserved to have.”

  Just short of the exit, Josie stepped away from his touch and then spun around. “It was my rain check dinner. I should have paid.”

  “Then where was your credit card when we made it to the register?” he teased.

  “You practically pushed me out of the way, and I had to save Stella’s chocolate cake, or I’d be kicked out of the apartment tonight,” she explained.

  Max chuckled as he walked past her and opened the door. “We can argue in the car if you want.”

  She turned to face him, but the grin on her face only had him shaking his head at her. “I’m never going to let this go, Max,” she declared.

  “I hope you don’t.”

  “You’re real funny,” she muttered as she made small steps until she reached him. Then she turned, and their bodies now blocked the entryway for anyone entering the restaurant. Josie set her free palm on his chest, and Max inhaled sharply.

  Did she feel his wild heartbeats against her hand?

  Did she notice how he held his breath the moment she touched him?

  Did she know he was beginning to love her?

  “Promise me something.”

  Max nodded, afraid of sounding breathless.

  Josie licked her lips and took a deep breath. “Promise me you’ll let me pay for the next rain check dinner we have. And because I know what you’re thinking, I really mean I’ll pay for it and not my father. This may have started because of him not showing up, but everything else about us, he or anyone else can’t touch.”

  Speechless.

  She made him choke on his words.

  A loud, aggressive clearing of the throat had Josie quickly pulling her hand away. “If you two are done with your sweet PDA, we’d like to have dinner.”

  “Max?” that familiar throaty voice said.

  No.

  No.

  No!

  Not now.

  Not when Josie just put herself out there.

  He turned his head to find Sarah standing next to him with another man by her side. She looked horrified. Maybe even heartbroken. And for the very first time, he honestly didn’t care.

  He was clean of her.

  Then he glanced back at Josie to see her wide eyes.

  Because of you.

  I’m clean of her because of you.

  “Max, who is this?” Sarah asked, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Josie.

  He waited for her reaction.

  To see if she put it together that this was Sarah Collins.

  Josie turned slightly, and her eyes found his. She knew. It was so clear in her eyes. So was her sadness. Not for her. No, she appeared sad for him. Then her lips tugged into a small smile, and she walked around Sarah and her latest whatever he was. Max followed Josie out but was forced to stop when a hand wrapped around his wrist.

  “Max!” Sarah desperately pleaded.

  He watched Josie halt, pause for a moment, and then spin around. He silently pleaded with her to understand him. To not judge him right now.

  Clenching his eyes shut, he took a deep breath, ready for a confrontation he hadn’t been prepared for. When he opened his eyes, Josie gave him a small nod, and he knew they would be okay. That one nod was his reassurance that nothing—not even Sarah—could get between them.

  Max pulled his hand free from Sarah’s hold and then spun around.

  The hurt in her blue eyes no longer affected him. Her blues still held that vindictive gleam because she still wanted to blame everyone else but herself. She hadn’t changed at all. It wasn’t enough anymore. She wasn’t enough anymore.

  He knew better.

  He knew there was better with Josie.

  “Sarah,” he acknowledged.

  She shook her head in disbelief at him. “What are you doing?”

  “Leaving.”

  “No. What are you doing with a different woman?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “It is!”

  The man next to her let out a growl and hissed, “I’ll meet you inside.” Then he left Sarah alone with Max.

  “What are you doing having dinner with another woman?” she seethed. Her cheeks turned red as her nostrils flared.

  “Josephine,” Max said. “Her name is Josephine.”

  “I don’t care if—”

  “But I do,” he interrupted her rant and stepped forward. “I care, Sarah. Her name is Josephine. And it is none of your business who I spend my time with. We’re done. We’ve been done for a long time.”

  The horror reached her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “No!”

  Sarah knew.

  She knew he was no longer in love with her.

  “Not with her. Please, Max, not with her,” she begged.

  “Her name is Josephine,” he reminded. “And I care about her more than I could ever care about you. I don’t miss you, Sarah. When I’m with her, I still miss her.”

  “Does she know what kind of person you really are?” She was trying to discredit him. But she couldn’t.

  “Josephine does. She knows who you are, what you were, and what we did. Goodbye, Sarah,” he farewelled and then spun around to see the bewilderment on Josie’s face.

  Then that bewilderment softened into understanding, and for a second, he swore he saw adoration in her eyes.

  “Ready to go?” he asked.

  Instead of saying yes, she said, “I’m incredibly proud of you.”

  And that there …

  Was the moment he fell in love with Josephine Faulkner.

  He no longer liked her honestly.

  No, he loved her honestly.

  “And I care about her more than I could ever care about you …”

  He cares about me.

  “I don’t miss you, Sarah.”

  He doesn’t
miss her.

  “When I’m with her, I still miss her.”

  He misses me when we’re apart and when we’re together.

  Josie peeked over to find Max staring at her as they walked down the hall to her apartment. The car ride was quiet. She had no idea what more to say than that she was incredibly proud of him for standing up against the woman who had caused him so much pain in his life. The same woman who was beautiful with her long black hair and icy blue eyes. But no matter how stunning she was, Josie knew and saw the bitter woman Max had once loved.

  Josie tore her eyes from Max and concentrated on her fast approaching apartment door. Max confessing that he cared about her more than Sarah really added to Josie’s confusion.

  He had said he missed seeing her.

  Missed her when they were apart.

  They had admitted they liked each other.

  But it all just felt so undefined between them.

  It was supposed to be simple with him.

  He was her friend and tutor.

  They shared mutual friends.

  But she knew she connected with Max in ways she could never connect with Stevie or Ally.

  She had never connected with any man the way she had with Max.

  No man made her heart almost weep and beat out of control.

  No man understood her and her relationship with her father.

  No man looked at her the way Max did.

  Am I falling in love with him?

  “I’m sorry about Sarah,” Max said once they reached her door.

  Josie’s grasp on the plastic container tightened. He had nothing to be sorry about. Sarah had hijacked their night and let confessions spill out of him. It made her really question her personal feelings for him.

  Am I falling in love with Max?

  She spun around to see the concern on his face. He’d put so much effort into tonight. He had even worn a black tie with his grey dress shirt. She lifted her eyes to meet his light browns, and she realised they were almost a honey colour. They had a gleam of different emotions to them that she couldn’t decipher, but she wanted to. She wanted to look into his eyes and take away every regret he had.

  She wanted to wake up to them.

  She wanted to look into them when she told him she loved him.

  I love him.

  The thought had her flinching.

  I.

  The air was forced out of her.

  Love.

  The realisation caused her heart to throb.

  Him.

  It was the only way to explain how she felt. How much her heart yearned for him. How much she missed him. How much the thought of him caused her head to spin. She loved him enough to stand there and watch him confront someone he had loved. Her love was patience. Her love for him made her a more hopeful person.

  I.

  Love.

  Him.

  It was true.

  So true.

  But right now, she couldn’t act on her love. Max cared for her. He even missed her. Friends could care and miss each other.

  Friends couldn’t love each other.

  “I’m so sorry about her,” he said with so much sorrow in his voice that it pained her.

  She felt it.

  Her confession on the tip of her tongue.

  Stella was right.

  She was self-destructive.

  She ruined her own happiness.

  Because what she wanted to do was tell him and plead for him to love her.

  Josie felt her eyes sting as she forced herself to hold back the foolish tears that were forming. She took a deep breath and begged her heart to hold in those three words.

  For just a little bit longer.

  Not now.

  And the anxious set of beats in her chest was all she needed to know that she had to hold it together. To keep it in. To address what was actually said and not what she felt.

  “Don’t be sorry.”

  He shook his head. “I am. We were having a good night …”

  “She didn’t spoil it.”

  “She didn’t?”

  It was Josie’s turn to shake her head. “No.”

  Max sighed in relief, and it caused her to let out a small laugh.

  “I’m glad she didn’t,” he admitted.

  Now.

  Tell him now.

  Josie swallowed hard.

  It wasn’t time.

  She knew it.

  Her brain knew it, but her damn foolish heart was intoxicated by the way his eyes softened as he gazed down at her.

  “Max,” she breathed.

  He closed the small distance between them, and her chest heaved at the proximity. Her line of sight fell to his lips and then back to his eyes.

  “Yes, Josephine.” He sounded as breathless as she felt.

  “Do you really care about me?”

  His slow smile caused her heart to skip a beat.

  “Isn’t it already obvious that I do?”

  “More than her?”

  He nodded. “More than anyone.”

  Her throat tightened as her breathing became almost impossible. “And you miss me?”

  “Even when I’m with you,” he confirmed.

  Her right hand reached up and wrapped around the back of his neck. “I like you, Max,” she confessed; this time, it was a decoy admission of her love. “And I desperately want you to like me the way you miss me when I’m with you.”

  His hand settled on her hip. “I already like you more than that,” he enlightened.

  That was it.

  The break.

  The line had been obliterated.

  Confession and feelings were free from their chains.

  It was all she needed as she pulled his lips to hers and kissed him.

  They didn’t move.

  Not for a second as they allowed their mouths this connection.

  Then he really kissed her.

  Lips fluttered over hers perfectly as her hand moved to cup the back of his head.

  Heat.

  So much heat between them.

  He kissed her so passionately that she became delirious.

  The moment his tongue traced her bottom lip, she moaned, and he backed her into her apartment door. The sudden impact of her back hitting the door was all he needed to flick the switch, and their kiss went from passionate to desperate.

  His tongue passed her lips and found hers.

  Strokes were made.

  A dance of their own continued.

  Then Max’s hand left her hip, and his arm snaked around her back and held her to him.

  She kissed him back, hoping he didn’t taste her love for him on her lips.

  “Jesus, Josie, knock like a proper per—” she had heard before the door opened, and she fell slightly into her apartment. Their kiss ended immediately, and Max held her against his body, ensuring they didn’t topple over.

  Josie clenched her eyes closed. Embarrassed to face her best friend and to see Max’s reaction.

  “Oh, I see …” Stella trailed off, the smile evident in her flirty voice. “Carry on,” she urged as Max shifted them and the door shut loudly behind them.

  There was silence as Josie slowly opened her eyes to find Max’s soft gaze on her. His cheeks were red, and he was panting.

  Then Josie heard Stella say, “West, you owe me twenty dollars! It happened. Yeah, right outside our apartment. I knew it! I can’t believe they waited this long.”

  Josie was mildly annoyed her best friend had made a bet on her friendship with Max. She would have to discover exactly what kind of bet Josie had lost.

  Right now, though, the way Max was looking at her with a million questions in his brown eyes had her focusing. To her relief, she saw no regret on his face. Instead, he seemed as if he were in awe like their kiss moved him.

  She hoped it had.

  Longed for it.

  But his silence began to chip away her confidence, and she dropped her hand from its grasp of the back of his
head. Then the arm around her fell away from her and space was created. Though it was only marginal, it felt as if oceans separated them.

  Max pressed his lips together and made a nod.

  She had no idea what that nod meant.

  But she watched him turn and make his way towards the elevator.

  Every single step wounded her.

  Every single step took her breath away and replaced it with thick smoke in her lungs. Watching him walk away was a pain she couldn’t comprehend. She hated it. She wanted him to take back the kiss and all his words so she wouldn’t have to feel it.

  She had discovered marvellous bliss with him, and she hated it.

  Hated what it felt like.

  What it did to her.

  Josie clutched the plastic container tightly, hoping she could redirect her pain. Instead, it made it worse. And she was never one to let herself be hurt by any other man than her father.

  She wasn’t about to let Maxwell Sheridan disappoint her.

  He was allowed to be confused.

  Hell, she was that and more.

  But he wasn’t allowed to be disappointed.

  “Max!” she called out, turning her head to the right to find him halfway to the elevator.

  He said nothing.

  He gave her silence.

  “Is that it?” she asked in a small voice.

  “No. It can’t be,” he answered. Then he spun around and faced her, shaking his head. “Not with you.”

  And before Josie could even register what he meant, he stormed towards her, cupped her face, and gently pushed her against her apartment door.

  “Max,” she breathed.

  He tilted his head to the right and sealed their lips together, kissing her even deeper than before.

  His name on her lips was the last word between them before they kissed.

  It was perfect.

  The way he held her face gently in his hands.

  The way his lips touched hers.

  The way he couldn’t stop kissing her.

  He was perfect.

  And even if he never loved her, she appreciated knowing just how incredible it was having him kiss her.

  “Josephine,” he breathed against her mouth and pressed his body against hers, trapping her against the door.

  The way her name escaped him was beautiful.

  A symphony couldn’t do it justice.

  He made her world feel like a song.

  A beautiful melody.