by Sierra Wolf
“Good morning Penny,” Max said, as his driver opened the door to let him out. An assistant followed behind, as well as several more in the other car. Did this guy ever go anywhere without his pack of employees?
“That’s Ms. Archer to you,” I said curtly, crossing my arms. “And we’re not open yet.”
“Yes I know that. It’s why we came this early. You’ve been avoiding my assistants.”
“I can’t help that the diner is so busy.”
“Well, now it’s not. So if I could take up a few minutes of your time…”
“Five minutes.” I said, moving towards the front door. “And you’re going to have to talk while I work.”
There were a million things to do before we could open, but I knew that Maxwell was nothing if not persistent. He was a natural born hunter, endlessly in pursuit of the next business deal. It’s clearly made him millions, though it’s no party being on the receiving end of his attention. Unfortunately, avoiding him hasn’t worked, so it was best to get this over with.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside, not bothering to keep the door open for him. Manners were wasted on men like him. I quashed down the fact that my reaction was in part because I was attracted to him. This man was trying to take away my family’s livelihood, and he’d go for the jugular as soon as he found any weakness.
I flicked on the lights, and started on the first task of the day: tallying supplies in stock for inventory orders. Max followed me inside, but thankfully his lackeys stayed by the car. I walked past the counter and into the back of the kitchen, giving him no chance to stop and talk.
“Ms. Archer, please. If you would just listen to my proposal, I think you’ll find that both our parties can benefit from all this. The yacht club will bring many jobs to the town of Woodward.”
I looked up at him. He leaned against the doorway, hands in the pockets of his tailored suit. I’d never seen a man look so out of place, and yet so at home. Maxwell exuded a natural confidence that was different from the men in town-Less bravado and more tight control. I was used to the men in Woodward, all of whom wouldn’t hesitate to whistle at a busty girl in tight jeans, but Maxwell was something different. He hadn’t looked at my breasts once, and his deadly focus on his work was admirable, even to me.
“So what about my job?” I asked.
“Well, we do plan on having a restaurant within the club,” he replied, sensing an opening. “And I am happy to negotiate job contracts with your staff-provided they have the requisite skills.”
So no flapjacks and burgers then. Somehow I didn’t think that Cody would be up to making foie gras or whatever it is they are planning on having. I pursed my lips tightly. Mr. Lalune was a typical businessman, used to getting his way and having us begging for his scraps. Well I wasn’t going along with it.
“ Don’t bother, Mr. Lalune. We aren’t interested in selling out.”
“Max is fine, and you haven’t heard my price.”
“I don’t need to. We. Aren’t. Selling.”
I pushed past him to get back to the front of the diner. It wasn’t a hard push, just enough to emphasize my point. This conversation was done. But before I could react he had whipped out his hand and grabbed my arm, spinning me around to face him. My eyes widened in surprise.
“Don’t walk away from me,” he growled, lips pulled back in a snarl.
Our gazes charged the air with tension. Then I noticed was that Max’s eyes weren’t like normal eyes. They were a golden amber, flashing like a sunset. In the dim light of the storeroom, they almost glowed. His grip on my hand tightened, until it almost hurt. For a moment, fear curled around my stomach. He wouldn’t dare do anything inappropriate, would he? I glanced nervously to the front of the diner. There wasn’t anyone in here who could hear me scream. My nerves tightened like a guitar string, readying myself for the worst.
I looked back, and blinked confused. The glimmer was gone. His eyes were just a chocolate brown, and he released my hand. Max stepped back, disconcerted.
“What… happened to you?” I whispered...
