by Lisa Wells
I had sex with Max, and I liked it.
Chapter Thirty-Five
On Monday morning, Aggie caught the city bus to work. Ever so slightly late, when she hurried into the reception area, she discovered the door to Max’s office was closed. His signal to stay out. She breathed a sigh of relief. She now had time to catch her breath and get her game face on.
This would be the first time they’d seen each other since their sexy times on Thursday night. Under no circumstances could she allow any little part of herself to hope the sex meant more than it did. Because it didn’t. It was just a great fuck.
If you didn’t learn from history, you were doomed to repeat it. And Meemaw’s history taught her not to give a rich guy an opening to crush you with their rejection. They might like sex with the woman from the other side of the tracks, but that did not spill over into happily-ever-afters.
Their relationship had to be shoved back into the box marked boss/employee. And on her lunch hour she was going to laminate her new life plan. “I am the pusher, not the pushed,” she reminded herself.
As she busied herself with the coffeemaker, his thick, rich voice carried easily through the closed door. Maybe she should make some noise to let him know she’d arrived.
“Trust me, I know. The apple never falls far from the tree. I’m not stupid. I will proceed with absolute caution.”
She jumped and dropped her empty cup. It landed with a clanking thud on the counter. That sounded very much like a man who thought he had the upper hand in shutting down a woman in danger of liking him too much. If he thought he was going to be the pusher in this equation, he had another thought coming.
“Aggie? Is that you?” Max called out. He sounded cheerful. A man so relaxed he initiated a conversation between walls. Was she not the bad apple he’d been referring to?
She picked up her cup and smoothed a hand over her hair. Not that it mattered, but to be fair to him, even if she was the bad apple, in a lot of ways, the description fit. You don’t live the life she’d lived without gathering a few bruises in the process. “Sorry I’m late. I’m fixing a cup of coffee. Would you like a cup?” Why in the hell did she offer to bring him a cup? She wasn’t that sort of assistant. He was going to think she thought they were a possible thing.
“I’m good.”
Whistling floated through the walls to her ears. She’d never heard him whistle. Not even when he got a contract.
While she waited for the coffee to brew, she refused to allow herself to read anything into his good mood. It probably had nothing to do with him still liking-her liking-her. She forced herself to send a text to her college friend, the one now living in Brooklyn, and asked her if the open-couch invitation still stood.
“Aggie, anytime you’re ready to get to work, we’ve got a lot to accomplish today.” A wall no longer between their voices.
She turned to give him an I’ve-already-forgotten-we-had-sex smile, but it never reached her lips.
Max stood in the doorway looking at her the same way he’d looked at her the day they met. Like she was a pain in his ass not fit to breathe the same air as him. She was most definitely not his reason for being in a good mood.
The investigator must have told Richard Mom was a felon, and Richard told Max, and now he was shutting her down exactly like she’d feared he would if he knew? Asshole.
Knowing he’d want nothing to do with her when he found out, and actually seeing it on his face, were two different beasts. She turned to add sugar to her coffee. “I’m just about ready.” She hated sugar in her coffee, but she’d be damned if she let him see her hurt. How dare he judge her for Mom’s baggage.
Max wanted to yell at someone. Instead, all morning he’d been whistling the opening bars of “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’” by the Righteous Brothers. He’d learned the distraction technique when his parents divorced, and his dad refused to let his son be sad about Mom no longer living with them.
Calling Grant hadn’t eased the tension causing his headache. Grant had concerns that Max’s view of Aggie was skewed by his lust. He had reminded Max that he was, after all, his father’s son—a man who’d always been able to justify sex with an employee—and that apples never fell far from the tree. A ridiculous saying even if it did hold more than an ounce of truth. Then to compound the headache he’d given Max, he went on to vehemently spout the same shit advice Max had given him back in high school: don’t reveal love if it might not be reciprocated.
At the time Max gave the advice, it felt solid. Now, the pithy words gave him heartburn on top of his headache.
According to Grant’s parting remarks, nobody would win if Max told Aggie about his throbbing, scared-shitless heart.
Hell, maybe Grant was right. Maybe it wasn’t love that had him in knots and, instead, was a hangover from excellent sex. Maybe it was the pulse in his cock throbbing in his heart.
He stood still as she studied him, her brows squished together and lips pursed. He could practically see her walls. The ones he’d briefly gotten around Thursday night. “You look lovely.”
When she bent her head and returned her attention to stirring sugar into her coffee, he watched. This wasn’t just her normal walls. Something wasn’t right.
“Go on. I’ll be right there,” she said breezily.
Fuck Grant’s advice. They weren’t eighteen anymore. Adults handled love differently than high-schoolers. He wasn’t going to act like Thursday night never happened. It did, and it affected him. In a good way. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“I hope it’s about work.” Her voice was louder than normal. “I have an idea for something to add to your proposal for the bid project.”
Hell. That sounded very much like something a woman would say who wanted a man to know that what happened between them was a one-and-done type of event.
Which left him with only one option. Call her bluff. “Work with me after your contract ends?” If she got excited and said yes, she wasn’t interested in a personal relationship but, instead, a business one. If she said no, there was hope.
“You have an assistant.” The breezy tone now contained a frost warning. “One who will return in a month.”
“She’s not coming back.”
“She’s not?” The two words snapped at him like an angry turtle.
“Would you like her job or not?”
She took the cream out of the refrigerator and poured it into her coffee.
Since when did she take cream in her coffee? Or sugar?
“Let me get this straight. You can’t have your real assistant back, so I’ll do?”
“Damn it, Aggie—”
“Damn it, Aggie,” she mimicked.
He clamped his mouth shut on what he wanted to say. Telling a woman to grow up never went over well in any situation, let alone when they were in a mood.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“I’d be happy to have you continue to work for me.” Not thrilled. “Is your answer yes?”
“Sorry to burst your happy bubble of hope.” She picked up her coffee cup and purse. “I’m not available.”
Relief surged through him and his headache disappeared. She wanted what he wanted.
“I’m moving to Brooklyn.” She marched past him and into his office. To her desk.
Confused, he followed. A no was supposed to have been a positive sign. But hell, he’d prefer a yes than a no with this caveat. Anger whipped through him. Mostly at himself, but also at her. “Of course you are. This is par for the course with you, flitting from one thing to another.”
She plopped her purse on her desk. It landed with an ominous thud. “I don’t flit. I drift.”
“Why Brooklyn?”
Her nostrils flared. “It’s part of my life plan.”
“You have a life plan?” This ought to be good fod
der for his next drinks with Grant.
“You don’t?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “As a matter of fact, I do. It doesn’t include you taking off to New York City.”
She opened her mammoth purse. “Don’t worry. I’m going to work out my contract. I’ve grown up since you met me.” She pulled out a tape measure, a condom, and a crumpled sheet of paper.
Why was that damn condom always on top of whatever she was looking for? A man couldn’t think when it came out to play. He scratched his head and tried to focus. “What about Ms. Hazel? Are you really going to take off and leave her behind?”
“She’s going to come and live with me. Once I’m settled.”
“Grandmother will hate that. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her so happy.”
Aggie’s eyes clouded.
Hell. He’d rained on her parade. If this was what she wanted, who was he to be an ass about it? “Ms. Hazel will love living in Brooklyn. She will charm the hell out of the locals, and it’s not like Grandmother doesn’t have plenty of other friends.”
His words brought a smile to Aggie’s lips and a crinkle to her eyes. That was all the proof he needed to know this was something she really wanted to do. It wasn’t one of her fly-by-night ideas. Like an office mascot. “Meemaw has never been out of the state. It will be an exciting adventure that I can give her.”
“She’s lucky to have you as her granddaughter.” He remembered reading a poem in high school that spouted some bullshit about loving someone, letting them go, waiting for a full moon and then they come back, and everybody got laid. Or did they come back and a bird shit on your head for good luck? Whichever it was, he’d see if it held true.
He waited for her to say more. She didn’t. Instead, she turned her attention back to reloading her purse.
“I guess, given that you’re leaving town, there’s no need for us to talk about Thursday night.” It was a Hail Mary. One last attempt to see if there was any doubt in her mind about what she wanted.
She removed a stick of gum from her purse and unwrapped it. “We had fun, but I’m sure you agree it was a one-time judgment lapse.” She stuck the gum in her mouth.
“Or—” A knock at the door interrupted him. Whoever it was, they’d have to come back. He jerked his head that direction. The door stood open. And in it stood Tabitha from high school.
Fuck. He and Grant had bumped into her once again Friday night at Ties and Stilettos Cocktail Lounge.
She gave him a bright smile. “Max, darling, I know you weren’t expecting me, but since I was on this side of town, I thought I’d offer to take you to lunch. I had so much fun Friday night, and I thought why not stop by and tell you that in person. Too much is said over texts these days, and sometimes the message just doesn’t come through clearly enough.” Tabitha turned to Aggie. “Isn’t that right?”
“Absolutely. Did you say Friday night?” Aggie sounded nothing like Aggie.
“I did.”
“You must be the reason Max has been whistling this morning.” Aggie tossed Max a heated glare.
Of course, she’d come to that conclusion. He’d not given her any reason to come to another.
“Is that true?” Tabitha asked. “Are you whistling because of me?”
Max and Aggie’s gazes were laser locked. He could see the hurt in her eyes.
“Trust me.” Aggie jerked her head toward Tabitha. “I’ve never heard him whistle at work.”
Tabitha beamed at Aggie. “He’s kind of hard to read sometimes. Thank you for telling me.”
Max went to his desk and sat.
Tabitha followed. She sat on the edge of his desk and crossed one leg over the other. “Remember that idea I mentioned?”
He nodded.
“I’ve improved upon it. Hint. Just imagine me in a bikini, holding a martini. Take me to lunch, and I’ll tell you more.”
Aggie knocked a mirror off her desk, and it broke. The noise drew their attention. “Damn it. Seven years bad luck.” She quickly picked up the pieces and dumped them in her trash bin. Straightening, she said, “I’ll give you two some privacy. I’m going to go buy office supplies and then do lunch.” She grabbed her purse and rushed to the door. “I promised Bill this morning I’d meet him for an early lunch. If you and Tabitha leave for your lunch date before I get back, be sure and lock up.” She was out the door before he could stop her. Probably because his brain got hung up on the word “Bill.”
That asshole was undoubtedly the reason she’d decided to move to New York City. There was doubtless some damn biker gang there he wanted to join. Or he was running from the law.
Three minutes later, Tabitha left. Alone. The last thing he wanted was to help her plan a tropical class reunion.
Which left him with nothing to do but sit and wonder about Aggie and Bill. And her errands. And if sex with Bill was one of her errands.
Two hours later, his phone rang. He snatched it up, needing something, anything, to take his mind off Aggie. “Treadwell Properties.”
“Is this Max?”
“It is.” Max rubbed his left temple with his free hand.
“This is Ruby from the Club.”
He sighed. Hell. Had she somehow discovered about the favors he’d cashed in to get Ms. Hazel admitted? “How may I help you?”
“Do you remember my great niece, Jodi? You met her at our Christmas social last year.”
“Of course, she’s quite lovely and entertaining.” And bored him silly.
“She’s run into a bit of a bad patch with the men in her life lately. I’d like for her to find a nice young man who can see her potential.”
“I’m not sure where you’re headed with this?”
“I’d like for you to take her out. And I can even help you make a good impression. You see, I have two tickets to The Lion King. Her favorite. Why don’t I give you those? You can take her out to a nice dinner and then the theater.”
Max frowned. “Thank you for calling. And thank you for the offer. But—”
“What do you know about Johnny John?”
“Who?” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“He’s a man who could stir quite the embarrassment for Grace should he come back to town.”
Max straightened and lowered his hand to his desk. “That sounds very much like a threat.” Of course, he knew a little about the man. The little that Grandmother had told him when he’d questioned her on why she married someone she didn’t love.
“You have good ears. Did I mention I have a dear friend who writes for The Society Page?”
The pencil he held in his hand snapped. Max couldn’t care less what Ruby did to hurt him, but he couldn’t be callous where Grandmother was concerned. “If I take Jodi to the musical, are you going to drop this whole Johnny John threat?” Caving to blackmail tasted like cheap, sweet wine, but he would swallow a whole bottle of it if it meant protecting Grandmother’s pride.
“For now.”
He flung one half of the pencil across the room. “Not good enough. You either have to drop it forever or we’re not closing this deal.”
Ruby harrumphed. “Call Jodi, as soon as we hang up.”
“What night are the tickets for?”
“Wednesday night.”
Max hung up and called Jodi. Right as he pushed dial, Aggie cruised in. He placed his hand over the receiver. “Would you mind waiting in the reception area and shutting the door? This is a private call.”
Jodi answered the phone. “Hello.”
“Hi. Could you hold one second?” Damn it. He hadn’t wanted Aggie to hear him call her. Then again, she’d been out to lunch with Bill.
Aggie’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. But if you’re about to plan another date with Tabitha, don’t forget Wednesday night we agreed to cook dinner for the grandmothers. Their big
tournament starts on Thursday.”
He nodded. Shit. Now what? “Sorry about that,” he said to Jodi. “This is Max, from the country club.”
“Hello, Max. How may I help you?” Jodi sounded formal.
Here goes nothing. “I wanted to call and let you know your aunt Ruby is trying to blackmail me into asking you out. I thought about caving, but I’m certain that is the last thing you’d want. So I decided to call and clue you in on what’s going down.”
“For the love of God,” Jodi snapped. “Thank you for the heads up and not taking me out on a fake date. I’m absolutely mortified she tried to blackmail you into the act. What is it with that generation that they think they can interfere in everyone’s life?”
“Got me. Grandmother has been the queen of meddling as of late.” Remembering Ruby’s concern about Jodi’s bad run of luck with men, he added, “I want you to know, it’s not that I don’t want to take you out, but I am seeing someone right now.”
“You’re sweet for saying that. I’m not even going to ask you what it is Aunt Ruby tried to blackmail you with, but if she asks, what shall I say we did?” Her shaky voice told him she wasn’t taking the news as breezily as she would have him believe.
Laughter erupted from the outer office. He had a pretty good idea who Aggie was talking to.
“The Lion King and dinner, Wednesday night.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
He hung up. If Ruby discovered he’d called her bluff, he’d deal with the fallout when it happened. Right now he wanted to know who in the hell Aggie was laughing with.
Treading like a cat-burglar, he reached the door and opened it in a grand caught-you fashion.
Aggie glanced his way. “I hope my laughter didn’t disturb you. I was watching bad boss videos to drown out your voice. I didn’t want to eavesdrop on you and your new girlfriend.” Her tone was perfectly neutral.
“I wasn’t talking to my new girlfriend.”
“But you admit you are thinking of Tabitha in that terminology?”
“Does Bill know about Thursday night?”
She cocked her head and studied him. “He’s not the territorial type. Thank God. I can’t stand guys who get all you’re mine just because I had sex with them.”
