by Jo Leigh
None of what had transpired surprised him, except for the level of schmoozing from the other associates. Now that he wasn’t in the midst of them, he could see that their spiel had been rehearsed. Not word for word, but the gist? They knew the game and played it well. Which made sense for an organization as large and successful as D & P. There had been a couple of uncomfortable remarks about his lack of an Ivy League diploma, but that wasn’t unusual. The hierarchy of degrees was an unavoidable reality in his profession.
The whole thing had gone by in what felt to him like twenty minutes. He’d meant to bring Natalie back into the conversation, but he’d been swept up in the flattery like some rookie straight out of law school. It wasn’t that he was being fawned over, although he was, but he’d bought into the inner-circle mentality of his contemporaries.
He’d compared this process to being rushed for a fraternity, and tonight had been a prime example. He’d acted like a freshman, and worse, he’d behaved like a child, self-obsessed and careless toward someone who mattered a great deal.
He’d wanted her to hear the words, see them competing for his attention. He’d wanted to impress her.
He found William Daniels in the salon, speaking to a beautiful blonde who might have been a model. Or at least someone he’d seen in the papers. Possibly his wife. Max waited until they’d finished up before he approached.
“Mr. Daniels, I’m going to have to leave sooner than I’d planned. My companion isn’t feeling well.”
Williams offered his hand. “I’m sorry you have to go, but the rest of the evening is just social. Now that you have some idea what the team is like, are you still interested?”
“Very much so. I certainly wouldn’t be bored.”
That tiny smile, the one that could have passed for a twitch, came back again. “I’m glad you stopped by. Someone will be in touch.”
“Thank you. It was illuminating.”
Williams walked down a hallway that must have led to the living quarters, while Max made his way on to the main deck. He couldn’t help noticing the opulence in every detail, from the lamps to the carpets to the artwork. It was gorgeous, but he didn’t think he’d actually want to hang out there.
The second he was off the yacht, he checked his phone to confirm he hadn’t missed her call. He found a cab quickly, and after giving the driver Natalie’s address, he pulled out his cell phone again.
There were no messages. Of course.
He’d try calling one more time, but when he got closer to her place. Maybe she’d still call him.
Tonight, more than any other time during his vacation, he’d felt the heat of ambition coursing through his veins. D & P was by far the front-runner of all the firms he’d talked with. Daniels and Porter was exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d hired Stella. He wanted the challenge, the kind of cases that would only go to a big and powerful firm. They were the group huge companies—hell, governments—turned to when they were looking for groundbreaking decisions that would tax him to the limit. The Supreme Court had seen William Daniels more than a few times already.
But Max would be signing his life over. He’d gotten spoiled in the last couple of weeks, having time to watch a game, eating out for pleasure, being with Natalie. He’d been so comfortable, he’d pulled his name from the dating-card group. The idea of not seeing Natalie for weeks, perhaps even months, at a time bothered him. And the notion of serial dating didn’t appeal in the least.
Although all of that might be out of his hands, not by dint of hard work, but because of his own behavior. How could he blame her? She’d been so great. Dressing up in her beautiful purple dress. He’d been proud to be with her, until he’d become the man of the hour. He’d been certain they would have a great time after the wheeling and dealing were over. He’d even hoped that they’d have cause to celebrate.
But he hadn’t thought it through. Not just the fact that he’d been swept away by all the talk of big cases and lots of excitement, but the fact that he’d brought Natalie at all. She’d told him once she was an introvert, and that big crowds were an issue for her. Then he’d left on her own.
Christ, he wanted to kick himself around the block.
It hadn’t really hit him before, the disparity between Natalie’s world and his own. She had the same kind of mellow energy as his folks, as Mike, at least when she wasn’t talking about movies. He couldn’t imagine what she must be thinking about the chest-thumping and pontificating she’d witnessed tonight.
He’d never claimed to be a prince, but he’d never behaved like such a selfish bastard before. His gaze went to his phone, and he thought of all the friends he’d lost in the last three years. Who was he kidding? He’d been a self-centered prick. He’d put his work before everything and expected everyone to pick up where they’d left off when he was ready.
“Buddy, everything okay back there?”
Max had no idea what the cabbie was talking about until he saw his hand, fisted against the window. He must have hit it, and now he could feel that he had, pretty hard. “Yeah, sorry. Everything’s cool,” he said, putting both hands in his lap.
He really had to hand it to Joey. The guy had a Harvard law degree. Max knew quite a few Harvard attorneys, and he’d met several more tonight. He’d bet his loft none of them had waited so much as five minutes to barter their degree for a fat salary and bright future with a top law firm. He would’ve done the same thing. In fact, he had. Northwestern graduates were welcomed, if not as actively recruited by stellar firms, and he’d capitalized on his class standing. It was the smart thing to do, so he had no problem with it.
But knowing Joey hadn’t jumped at any of the lucrative offers Max was certain had been thrown at him was impressive. The guy had chosen a stint with Legal Aid while he weighed his options. Smart, very smart.
Max knew he’d get a lot of personal satisfaction working at someplace like Legal Aid. But he sure as hell wouldn’t be able to furnish the loft, let alone set himself up with a nest egg he could rely on.
Being around Natalie and those good feelings she brought out in him had lulled him into thinking he might be able to have both, but he knew better. He’d been riding high after his victory. Exhausted at first, but feeling invincible. Somehow he’d forgotten that the last couple of weeks in no way represented the exhausting daily grind that had become his life. He could have the career he’d been counting on, or he could have a social life, but not both.
Natalie had been smart to leave tonight. She’d tried to steer them toward a friendship with that game of Scrabble the other night, but he’d pushed to add sex to the mix. By itself that wasn’t a problem. For a lot of people. But not Natalie, and deep down he’d known that. He’d known that once the job took over his life again he wouldn’t have the time to devote to a relationship. Still, he’d wanted what he wanted. The rules didn’t apply to him. And why not? He was Max Dorset. Man of the hour.
Shit.
His hand was fisted again. He stretched it out, determined to quit all the histrionics. It wasn’t like him. He hated this kind of melodrama. He’d been an ass. He was prepared to accept the consequences. Apologize for his actions and ask how he could make it up to her.
Three blocks from Attorney Street, he stared at his phone. If she didn’t answer his calls, or never wanted to speak to him again, so be it. It would hurt, but he’d deal. But cutting him off wasn’t like her.
He hit Speed Dial.
“Hi, Max.”
“Natalie.” Relief flowed through him. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Better.”
“Did I wake you?”
“No, I haven’t been home very long.” She sounded sleepy. Maybe she really wasn’t well.
Or she’d been crying.
He took a deep breath. “I’m surprised you’re speaking to me,” he said and noticed the cab wa
s now only a block from her building. Maybe he should’ve stopped for flowers. Maybe red carnations meant “I was a complete and utter asshole and I’m sorry” in flower language. “I got carried away, at your expense.”
“It’s fine, Max, really. I knew tonight was about work and I saw how they were treating you. I don’t blame you at all. You were being courted. Anyway, neither of us could’ve predicted my headache.” She paused. “So, are you impressed with Daniels and Porter?”
“They’re definitely at the top of the list.” Dammit, her voice was slightly off, but not by much. He couldn’t get a read on her. “Tell you what...how about I come over and give you some old-fashioned—”
“No,” she cut in just as the cabbie pulled in front of her house. “Stay at the party. This is important for you. I wouldn’t be good company, anyway. I just need a decent night’s sleep.”
Max wanted to convince her to let him up, but for once, he listened to what she wanted. Which was to be alone. “Good. Okay. Get some sleep, plenty of fluids, maybe some aspirin,” he said. “We’ll talk tomorrow, huh?”
“Sure. Good night, Max. Have fun.”
She disconnected before he could get in another word. Though what was there to say?
“Driver,” he said, leaning forward. “Change of plans.”
* * *
NATALIE HADN’T EXPECTED him to call. Not so soon. It had been tempting to let it go to voice mail, just as she had the first two times, but she didn’t want him bungling his big opportunity because he was distracted by her. She wasn’t angry and she didn’t blame him, not really. But she was sad. Horribly sad. And disappointed, but mostly in herself.
Huddling in her ratty old robe, she slipped under the covers. But then she realized she hadn’t turned off her cell phone and grabbed it off the nightstand. She didn’t think he’d call back tonight. He was too busy being wined, dined and flattered. But just in case he did sneak in a call, she didn’t want to choose whether to answer it or not.
Getting over Max was going to take awhile.
A lump formed in her throat and that was another perfect reason she shouldn’t talk to him again tonight. Her emotions were simmering too close to the surface. Maybe if she gave in and let herself have a good cry she’d feel better. Though she had a feeling there would be plenty of time for tears ahead for her. She lay on her side and touched his pillow. Then tugged it closer to see if she could smell his scent. It was there. Very faint, though.
Maybe she was making that up, too.
She turned onto her back but that position left no room for fantasizing that she was curled up beside him. God help her, what part of disappointed in herself did she not get?
She’d told them they’d talk, and she meant it. She wasn’t ready to write him off yet. At least he’d offered to come over, so that was something. He could’ve waited until the party was over, but he hadn’t. And the truth was, he might’ve been a tool for ditching her, but he’d never promised her anything beyond friendship. He’d even warned her about how little time he’d have after returning to work. She remembered once being irritated with him for mentioning it...again. She’d had to stop herself from telling him okay, enough, I get it already.
Obviously she hadn’t gotten it at all.
It was up to her to be very clear that they were only friends, casual friends who happened to have great sex. And that arrangement would last for as long as it lasted, and that was it. End of story.
17
NATALIE SHOULDN’T HAVE been surprised when her phone rang early the next morning. Max knew she had to work. What he didn’t know was that she’d be going in late. She doubted she’d gotten more than four hours’ sleep and an event that evening would keep her at work longer than usual.
“Hi, Max. How did it go?” Her voice was as light and breezy as she could make it, but she doubted he was fooled.
“Glad to hear you’re still speaking to me.”
“Stop it. Of course I am.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. Not a hundred percent, but better.”
He hesitated. “Can you stay home and rest? Get someone to cover for you at Omnibus?”
“Nope. In fact I have to stay later than usual tonight. But honestly, I’m fine.”
“Well, at least now I don’t feel so bad. I’ll be tied up, as well.”
Natalie’s heart sank. Which made no sense. What had she expected? For him to sit at home and mope every time she wasn’t available? That he’d never go out again without her?
His free evenings were numbered. He’d be returning to work in a few days, and even if he wasn’t busy with work, he’d still have his colleagues to meet and clients to talk to. Max would do whatever lawyers did after work, and he wouldn’t think twice about it. The thought hurt, and that was exactly the kind of crap she had to stop. He owed her nothing. “You have another interview?” she asked, as if it meant nothing.
“No. Dinner with my folks. I promised them I’d go over before I went back to work. Mike and I are meeting up and taking the train to Bridgeport.” Max sighed. “I almost forgot about it. Guess I’m an equal-opportunity jerk.”
“Hey, come on.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m still embarrassed about my behavior last night. Leaving you alone like that. Jesus.”
Damn her traitorous body, but her eyes welled and closing them did little to help. “It’s okay. I swear. I knew you’d be busy.”
“And I knew you weren’t comfortable in big social situations. But you were gracious enough to overlook my callous disregard and come anyway. I can’t apologize enough.”
“Thanks, but you have. Really. It wasn’t all that bad. I met a very nice man, and we’ve even made plans to see each other again.”
The silence on the line was satisfying, in a bad-seed kind of way. Which wasn’t her style. “His name is Harry Ellerbach, and he’s the CFO for the firm. He’s only about sixty, but he lost his wife awhile ago. They used to come to Omnibus. He’s lonely, and I think I can help him meet some people he’d like.”
“You really had me going there, kiddo.”
“Did I?”
He sighed. “Yeah. As if I’ve got any business being jealous.”
That was the kind of stuff that would get her into trouble. He was right; he had no business being jealous. And she had no business being happy that he’d admitted it. “Look, I’ve got to get moving. I’m not ready for work yet.”
“Right. I didn’t mean to keep you. But any chance we can meet for lunch?”
She bit her lip. It felt awkward between them—too much hesitation and his voice sounded wrong. Had they already made it to the regret phase? Please, not yet. Maybe if they saw each other in person, things would be better between them. She knew she couldn’t have him, but it didn’t have to end cold turkey. “Possibly. I’ll have to play it by ear. How about I call you?”
“Sure. If it works out, great. And if not, it’s only an hour-and-fifteen-minute train ride to my folks’ house. They aren’t night owls, so I won’t be back too late....”
His voice trailed off, letting the suggestion hang there. Until now he hadn’t had any trouble asking her to spend the night at his place, or if he could stay at hers. In fact, words had rarely been necessary.
“We’ll talk about that later, too,” she said, her voice softening. “We sure got off track, didn’t we?”
“I don’t regret it,” he said as if she needed convincing.
“I’m not certain what I feel.”
“Oh, God, Natalie. Don’t give up on us. There’s no question we have a transition to make, and I’m not saying it’ll be easy. But—”
“Max...”
“No matter what, I’m so glad I know you.”
The resurgence of the lump in her throat was inc
onvenient. She’d tried her best to be steady and strong, even when her emotions were tying her into a knot. After swallowing several times, she managed to say, “I really do have to go. We’ll connect later,” before she hung up.
She dropped the phone on her bed and pulled her robe more tightly around her. Sadly, the sensation made her think of Max and how many times he’d come from behind and put his arms around her and cradled her against his chest. She was going to miss those things so much....
All her years spent studying film had given her a very well-defined understanding of the difference between a happy ending and a tragedy. There would be no delightful twist, no deus ex machina that would save the day. What she wanted and what Max wanted were miles apart. The accident of their meeting and hooking up was remarkable given their personalities and their goals, but it was unsustainable.
Of all the movie tropes she’d studied, the one she’d never connected with was the ill-fated love story. It was heresy, but in her opinion Ilsa never should have left Rick in Casablanca. Even though he’d acted like a condescending jerk, they would have been brilliant fighting the enemy together.
And the hell with Titanic and The Way We Were and Brokeback Mountain. All of those manipulative tearjerkers. Why fall in love when it could only end in heartbreak?
She should have said goodbye after their first night together. But it was too late to rewrite that script. The only approach she could take to get through this in one piece was to remind herself that she was a sensible person. Well, she had been before Max. But then, a lot of things had been different about her life before him.
Good thing she hadn’t applied her makeup yet, because no amount of blinking could have stopped her tears. She just hoped she didn’t look like absolute hell when she got to work.
