Aggie the Horrible vs. Max the Pompous Ass

by Lisa Wells

  “I have?”

  “You have.” He brushed his lips against her cheek. Her body shivered against him. His body reacted in ways he couldn’t put into words. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, say no.”

  She moaned but didn’t shake her head no nor say the word he most didn’t want to hear.

  His lips glided over to the freckle he’d noticed on the first day that sat all alone right beneath her earlobe. “How about now?”

  Another groan. This one louder.

  He moved his lips to the outer corner of her mouth. “Last—”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and moved her head so that their lips centered nicely upon each other and his words were lost in a moment that made absolutely no sense on paper.

  They were as different as assets and liabilities. Yet the kiss kicked him in the back of the knees. Caused him to nearly tumble them both to the floor. For the first time in his life, Max knew true temptation. Knew it as clearly as he knew his social security number. Aggie Johansson should come with a label that said: WARNING—ADDICTIVE AS FUCK.

  Moving one hand down to rest on her delicious ass, he pulled her harder against him. First kisses were meant to be gentle, exploratory, lingering. But that’s not what he gave her. This kiss delivered what he lacked in their battle of the words. This kiss branded, and scolded, and delighted him hard enough to rock his world with thoughts of possibilities.

  In return, she gyrated and gasped and groaned, igniting him beyond the point of reasoning.

  When they parted for a quick breath, she placed her hands on his biceps, squeezed as if testing them for size, and then leaned slightly back. “Did you compliment me so you could kiss me?”

  Her breathing was as hard as his, and the hunger in her eyes matched the hunger eating at him, yet, once again, even in his daze he realized she was schooling him with her wit. “If I was capable of thinking straight, I would have fired you so I could kiss you without potential consequences.”

  Her eyes widened as if in horror. “I’m glad you’re not thinking straight. I don’t want to be fired. I like my job. A woman should never willy-nilly choose a man over a job.”

  Which, in the emotionless truth of life, meant there should be no more kissing. She’d just vocally chosen a job over him. The irony of that didn’t escape him. The woman who went through jobs like children went through candy chose the job. “Aggie—”

  “Max—”

  He jammed his fingers through his hair. “Ladies first.”

  “That kiss was nothing more than my getting carried away with you singing my praises. When we first met, you branded me a joke. A bad joke.”

  “More like an undetonated stick of dynamite.”

  Her lips twitched. “And, of course, you kissed me back. I’m very kissable.”

  “Very,” he husked. There was something he wasn’t remembering. Something on the tip of his memory.

  “And, in case you’re wondering, I promise I’m not secretly pining for you. And we’ve established you’re not my type, nor I yours. We still need to make sure our grandmothers aren’t harboring any lingering longings for us to be together. Meemaw’s had her heart broken by one rich guy. I couldn’t stand it if it happened again.”

  “How would I break Ms. Hazel’s heart?”

  “By my offering you mine, and you saying no thanks.”

  He froze. “I thought I wasn’t your type?”

  “Relax. You’re not. But sometimes when you play with fire, you get burned. While I would recover if you broke my heart, I have to remember mine wouldn’t be the only one you broke. Thus, reluctantly, I choose the job over a dalliance.” The more she spoke, the higher her voice pitched, and her cheeks glowed with a soft flush, and her neck developed splotches of red.

  He knew the correct response. But it was so seldom he had the last word. “You started it.”

  “Touché,” she said, giving him a smile that scrambled his brain.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ten minutes later, Aggie met Meemaw at Vinos and Pinots for a happy-hour dinner before Meemaw went to work.

  “I had a nice little chinwag with Officer Bobby and lost track of the time,” Meemaw said.

  Aggie sighed. “Were you speeding again?” Officer Bobby had pulled Meemaw over at least once a week ever since she won a convertible at a poker game, and so far, Meemaw had been able to talk herself out of every ticket. The guy never gave her anything but a warning.

  “Just a smidge. Anyway, I hope you don’t mind, but he and his lovely fiancée will be Grace’s and my new bridge partners.”

  “You guys are firing your grandchildren?” Surprise but not relief swept through Aggie. She hadn’t hated being Max’s Bridge partner. “Why?” Did this mean the grandmothers had given up on matchmaking the two of them?

  Meemaw leaned across the table and gazed intently at Aggie.

  Oh God, could she see Aggie’s happiness?

  “Sugar, Officer Bobby practically invited himself.”

  Aggie laughed. She very much doubted it happened that way. Poor Officer Bobby was probably still wondering how he’d come to agree to learning the game of Bridge.

  “Why are you so darn happy?” Meemaw asked.

  Aggie startled. She could lie and say she was just super relieved she didn’t have to play Bridge anymore. Or she could tell Meemaw the truth. At least part of it. The part that didn’t include her kissing her boss. “Max complimented me today.”

  “Really. On what? Leg compliments don’t count.”

  “It wasn’t on my legs. It was on an idea I had to help him bring in more of the younger crowd’s business.” Just saying it made her grin like a Mega Millions lotto winner.

  “I knew you had it in you to impress him. What else happened?”

  Damn, she was sharp. “Nothing else. Isn’t that enough?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have my glasses on to properly analyze your smile. My gut’s telling me it’s more than an I-made-the-boss-proud smile.”

  Aggie picked up the menu and held it in front of her face. “That’s all it is. Now, what do you want to order?”

  “Something easy to digest. Grace’s country club is voting on my becoming a member tomorrow morning, and I’m already too nervous to keep food down.”

  Aggie dropped the menu. “What? Why is this the first you’ve spoken of it?” She had heard her right…right? “My meemaw is up for membership at a swanky country club?”

  “I am, and I didn’t tell you because I may not get in. I’m sure Grace bullied her way into getting my name on the list, but that doesn’t mean she can bully anyone to vote for me, especially since the votes are secret.”

  “Even if you don’t, just getting recommended is a big deal. Let’s go out tomorrow night and celebrate both our good news.”

  Hazel shook her head. “I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch. There’s a fine chance I won’t be invited. Not that I care a lick if they say no.”

  “There’s a finer chance you will be invited.” Aggie believed in putting out into the universe what you wanted. And she very much wanted this for Meemaw. It might be just the thing to heal her low self-esteem. “There’s a saying, if you plan to celebrate it, it will happen.”

  “I don’t think that’s a saying, but if it makes you happy, we’ll boldly plan a celebration for tomorrow night. And we’ll invite Grace and Max to join us because that’s what we’d do if we knew for certain I was going to get the elusive invite.”

  “Exactly.” Surely if the grandmothers had uninvited their grandchildren to play Bridge, that meant they’d give up on their matchmaking idea. She and Max would just have to be careful not to rekindle that hope over dinner.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and read the message.

  I have a solid lead on your mom.

&nb
sp; Her heart rate jacked up, and her stomach clenched. The message was from the private investigator Richard Harris had loaned her. She dropped her phone back in her purse. This could be it. She could finally reunite with Mom.

  What if Mom hates me?

  If that happened, she would deal.

  Nothing could be worse than the not-knowing hole inside of her.

  Once she talked to Mom, the hole would heal. Her heart might not mend, but the hole would be gone, because she would have answers.

  Then again, how foolish was it to chase after a woman who didn’t want you in her life?

  “Everything okay?” Meemaw asked. “Was that Max telling you to get back to work and impress him again with your brain?”

  Aggie tried to give her a smile, but gravity made an example of its optimism. She couldn’t tell Meemaw. If Meemaw found out, she’d fret her love for Aggie hadn’t been enough. And that wasn’t true. And never in a thousand years would she hurt Meemaw.

  “You nailed it. Max wants my ass back at work.” Luckily, Meemaw would leave for work from here and would never know she went straight home afterward. “He said when he hired me, our hours would sometimes be untraditional.” She pulled her phone out and sent a text.

  Keep me informed. Night or day.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Max had been delighted when Grandmother called and asked if he’d like to go to dinner with her, Ms. Hazel, and Aggie. A celebration of sorts in anticipation that Ms. Hazel would be accepted into Grandmother’s country club.

  Now he sat next to Aggie in a booth at a small restaurant he’d never been to but found charming. It was an Italian place Aggie recommended for the four of them. And they were indeed celebrating Hazel’s membership. The committee had voted this morning.

  Grandmother lifted her glass of wine. “Here’s to Hazel being the newest member of Martinis and Cigars.”

  Hazel’s face lit up brighter than it had been all night. Something he wouldn’t have thought possible considering how much she’d already been glowing. It was as if she viewed becoming a member of the club as equivalent to winning a gazillion-dollar lottery. He had no regrets spending the weekend cashing in so many favors to get the votes to go her way.

  “Thank you for nominating me.” Ms. Hazel’s cheeks were a rosy red. “I promise to do my best not to embarrass you.”

  Grandmother waved the comment off with a flick of her wrist. “Nonsense. You won’t embarrass me. You will do me proud.”

  “Enough about me.” Ms. Hazel raised her glass. “Here’s to Aggie dragging a compliment out of Max. To you guys finally hitting it off.”

  Aggie stiffened next to him.

  They had hoped the matchmaking had ended but had come prepared in case it hadn’t. He reached out and squeezed her hand. His signal for her to throw the first dart.

  She squeezed back.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t put too much emphasis on his compliment.” She paused and took a sip of her drink. “It came right after I relayed a message to him from someone whose name I can’t remember. The message was, and I quote, last night was puuuuuurfect.”

  Both grandmothers set their drinks down, their expressions comical.

  “Max, dear, do you have a girlfriend?” Grandmother asked. “I had no idea.”

  “I hope not because I have a date with a different woman Saturday night.”

  He felt Aggie’s gaze.

  “Anyone I know?” Grandmother asked.

  “I don’t believe so. Did you guys know Aggie has an actual boyfriend?”

  She swatted at his arm. “Don’t throw me under the grandmother bus just because you stepped out in front of it.”

  “Felt more like I got there by a shove, not a voluntary step.” He sipped his wine to keep the ladies from seeing the laughter in his smile.

  “Aggie Johansson,” Ms. Hazel snapped, “do you have a boyfriend, and if so, why didn’t you tell me?”

  She sat up straighter. “I planned to tell you as soon as I figured out if he liked-me, liked-me.”

  Ms. Hazel pursed her lips like Aggie’s words were blasphemous. “You shouldn’t worry about if he likes-you, likes-you. He should worry about if you like-him, like-him. I don’t care who he is, you’re the catch, not him.”

  Max couldn’t agree more.

  Aggie smiled. “I love you.”

  Ms. Hazel harrumphed. “And does he?”

  “And does he what?”

  “Like-you, like-you?”

  Aggie glanced down at her hands. It was as if she couldn’t lie straight to Ms. Hazel’s face. “I will find out soon.”

  He resisted an urge to whisper in her ear that he liked-her, liked-her.

  Ms. Hazel’s lips pinched. “And do you like-him, like-him?”

  Her head came up. “Absolutely.” That came out sounding quite sincere.

  “Why?” Ms. Hazel demanded.

  “Well, for starters, he has a Harley that’s paid for and a job.”

  Max clenched his jaws to keep from saying something he’d regret and reminded himself this was an act. A planned act. Not things being said to rile each other up.

  “That does mark all your boxes where men are concerned,” Ms. Hazel said.

  Max watched Aggie as she spun her story for her grandmother. Someone as free-spirited as her would definitely find riding on the back of a Harley exhilarating.

  Had she ever dated someone like him? Someone who drove a Porsche. And had more than a job. Maybe if she did, her standards for what’s great in a man would change. Fuck. What a pompous-ass thought.

  He’d learned today his real assistant didn’t plan on returning. He should definitely offer the position to Aggie. If he did, though, he wouldn’t be able to ask her out on a proper date. Ever. While he’d never envisioned himself with someone like Aggie, now that he’d met someone like her, he kind of wanted someone like her in his life. Someone who would remind him to slow down and laugh. Have fun. And run like a child.

  If he gave her the job long term, he’d never find another like her to date. Someone capable of filling this sudden need he had in his heart. A need that wasn’t there before he met her.

  “In fact, we have a date tomorrow night,” Aggie said.

  Max snapped his attention to her and willed her to look at him. He wanted her eyes to tell him she’d concocted the date as part of their ruse. That she didn’t really have one. He felt another work night coming on. Despite the fact, she had to feel his gaze on her, she didn’t glance his way, so he cleared his throat to get her attention.

  “I hate to do this to you,” he said when she glanced at him. “But I have a business dinner with a new client tomorrow night, and I planned on taking you. You’ve worked so hard this week, I thought dinner at a fancy restaurant would be something you would enjoy.”

  She gave him a bemused smile. “Aren’t you a peach? I don’t know how a girl like me could say no to an invitation like that.”

  His shoulders relaxed. When their contract ended, he was going to tell her he wanted to date. Or maybe as soon as the dinner ended. “Great. And, because it’s a business function, I’ll give you my credit card and let you go shopping on company time tomorrow for something new to wear.”

  “And a blowout and a mani-pedi?” she asked, her smile staying one notch below the one he liked best.

  “I don’t know what any of those are, but sure.”

  Her smile completely disappeared, and the color of her eyes turned frosty morning blue. No lavender in sight. “You really know how to make a girl an offer she can’t refuse.”

  She was really playing this up for the grandmothers. “Then you’ll cancel your date?”

  “Oh, you misunderstood where I was going with my sarcasm.”

  He tugged at his tie. Grandmother insisted he dressed up for tonight’s dinner. “Excuse me?”
>
  “Tomorrow night is me and my guy’s third date.” Aggie stared at him wide-eyed. “A girl doesn’t cancel on the third date.”

  Time for him to step up his game and pull his weight in this pretend dislike of one another. The grandmothers hadn’t bought into it at card night, so they really needed to go all in tonight. “Cancel. Tomorrow night, you’re working late. As per our contract, you’re available to work twenty-four hours a day. Tomorrow night is a working dinner.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You know how to spoil a girl’s fun, don’t you?”

  …

  An hour later, Aggie drove Meemaw and her home in Meemaw’s poker bounty, Sweet Sally. After she and Max had gone into their pretend boyfriend-girlfriend spiel, things had changed. Their fun evening of celebration became one of more silence than laughter. She deeply regretted taking the pleasure out of Meemaw’s night of triumph. “You okay?”

  Meemaw didn’t answer right away. “To tell you the truth, I’m a little sad you and Max aren’t mooning over each other by now. I thought for sure the two of you would be a perfect match. I guess Grace and I aren’t as good at picking out two people meant to be together as we’d hoped.”

  Aggie’s conscience flicked her with a taut rubber band. But it was for the best. It really was. “Meemaw, he’s my boss. Nowadays, bosses don’t have office affairs.”

  “If he weren’t your boss, would things have turned out differently?”

  Aggie stalled. Meemaw and she always told each other the truth. Lying gashed at her heart, leaving painful lacerations.

  And frankly, tonight she realized she saw Max as boyfriend material.

  More than boyfriend material.

  Future material. He was smart, almost funny, caring, dependable, a great kisser, solid. His solid made her liquid less sloshy. Made her a better person. Wasn’t that so much more important in a guy than how fast his Harley went?

  The realization had scared the sweet tea out of her. No way would he ever see her in the same relationship light. And that wasn’t her thinking with a chip on her shoulder. It was just a cold, hard statistic. The mere fact he wanted to buy her an outfit for tomorrow night’s business dinner said as much—he didn’t trust her to have anything to wear to a fancy restaurant. He was afraid she’d show up in something cheap and embarrass him.