“What do you want to know, Alex? Ask,” he demanded.
“Start with your brother.” He lifted himself and paced around and faced the window.
“Very well.” Max exhaled. He took a few moments, trying to fashion a narrative that Alex would understand. “Our parents died when we were five and we inherited millions. I don’t know how much. They died in a traffic accident driving to a family meeting, and the last time I remember seeing my mother was when she was in the hospital.” My father had died moments before. My mother asked me to take care of Jonas because he was sickly. I have felt burdened by her last wishes all my life because I’m the eldest.”
“He’s only a few minutes younger than you.”
“Yes, but he didn’t react well to both our parents dying at the same time. I learned that I had to be strong for both of us; I had to be Jonas’s mother and father. After our parents were buried we went to live with our guardians.
“We were not allowed to handle our money until we reached twenty-one. We were treated well by our wards, but they never showed us love, only that they cared for the money. They had their own children, and we were two boys that were pitied because we had no family. Our uncles, aunts, and cousins died in a plane crash on their way to the same family hunting event in Montana. Our entire family had been wiped out in two days, and we were orphans. We inherited large sums of money. Some was for our education, and then our guardians used some of the money for living expenses and to educate their children.
“We didn’t begrudge the use of the money because all we wanted to do was be part of their family, which we never were. We were looked on with contempt by our adoptive parents’ children because of our wealth. Jonas felt it the most because he was sensitive. He began running away from home, and each time they returned him, his behavior and attitude became worse. He lived on the street for a while. I spent months looking for him, trying to convince him to come home in hopes that things would be different.
“As we entered our teens, Jonas was running away every week, until one day he didn’t come home, and I received a letter informing me that he had enlisted into the army. He had gone to Afghanistan before I had a chance to talk some sense into him. By then I could do nothing for him but pray that he would come home safely.
“When he did return, after serving three tours while I had been safely tucked away in my private college, he came back with a drug addiction and a mental disorder, what is it called?” He snapped his fingers trying to remember.
“PTSD. Post-traumatic stress disorder,” Alex added, sitting quietly with her hand to her mouth.
“He had been so traumatized and on drugs and alcohol that I had to first send him to drug rehabilitation. When he sobered, he had the nightmares so terrible that I had to sleep at his side to prevent him from hurting himself or someone. I couldn’t sleep for weeks no matter how I tried.
“Soon he was able to claim his inheritance and he began spending it on one woman after the next. He spent millions and was soon broke. I had to bankroll him with a business to keep him busy and out of trouble.”
“I gather that business is Pandora’s Retreat.”
“He’s just providing a service…”
“For the seriously fucked-up rich,” Alex added.
“What do you want from me, Alex? He’s my brother and the only family I have except for our son, and for him, I thank you. That business is the only thing that Jonas has excelled at since he was a youth. I love my brother, and I made a promise to my mother to watch over him.”
“You can’t protect him from himself, Max. You can’t be his mother and father and wife. You have a life.”
“Not without you, and it would have to include Jonas.”
“What would you say if I don’t want Jonas in my life and around our son? He is seriously messed up.”
“But I can’t leave him. Do you understand? Tell me you understand, Alex.”
“All I understand is that I can’t be in your world anymore, especially since you have not explained the woman that you were engaged to.”
“I explained that I broke up our engagement when I first met you in Montana.”
“You have said that over and over and yet it does not explain why you are connected to her death.”
“You will have to trust me.”
“I can’t marry you when all you say is, ‘I have to trust you.’ I have empathy for Jonas, but to tell you the truth, I don’t want him around my son.”
“Alex, I’m not going to allow you to prevent our son from forming a bond with his only uncle.”
“Allow! An uncle that has serious mental problems and may be involved in God knows what.”
“He could not do anything to harm another human being. He’s too sensitive.”
“He saw death in the army, and who knows what else. And what about you, Max? Could you?”
“If that’s how you feel, then maybe we should have some time apart.”
“No. Not some time—forever. It’s over, Max.” Standing and looking out on the Vegas strip, Max turned and gazed at Alex. There was a silence, and then he broke it.
“Alex, I want you to know that I have a court order to take our son.”
“You bastard.” She slapped Max across his face. He wasn’t surprised and he didn’t move, but when she reached to hit him again, he wrapped his large hand around her wrist, restraining her.
Her eyes blazed. “You got me here under the pretext of marrying me to tell me that you can take my son whenever you want.”
“That’s not true, Alex. It’s not what you think.”
“It’s exactly what I think. You cannot bend me to your will. It will never happen. I will not sit on my hands while you take my child. How could you do this to me?” Tears welled in her eyes. “How could you do this, Max? I hate you, Max. I will never love you…never.”
Max watched as Alex screamed and threw a vase at him. He didn’t want that reaction, and clearly something had got out of hand. Their relationship had become toxic. Alex ran for the elevator, and Max didn’t stop her.
Chapter 11
A month passed, and Alex couldn’t get out of bed. Her court date had come and gone on the hearing for custody of her son. Max called and texted her, but she only stared at the phone, reading the text messages when she felt well enough. He was so use to controlling everything and everyone. First the bondage thing, then a twin brother, and finally taking her son in hopes that he could bend her to his will. She had declared that she hated him and would never love him because of what he had done. It became hard to forgive him.
Alex finally found a job working the evening shift at a hotel as a cocktail waitress. The work paid an above-decent salary. It was one of the best hotels in Seattle, and it was owned by someone that did not require her to submit to the kind of activities that Blackstone had required of her. Maybe after I save some money, I can hire a real lawyer to fight Max for custody of Maxim, she thought.
She hadn’t seen Maxim in a month because she had to see Max first, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask to see her own son. Alex’s parents visited Maxim in Montana. Max explained to them that if anyone found out that he was the father then there was a possibility of a kidnapping. That was why he needed control of their son, to protect him. Alex’s mother and father tried to convince Alex to see Max’s point. Her father declared that she was stubborn as usual.
Running out of the rented bungalow, late for work, she jumped into her Volkswagen Beetle and gunned the accelerator, thinking she was being tailed. Alex wanted to keep this job a secret. She didn’t want anything to interfere with her being able to support herself and her son, and besides, her tips were beginning to add up. She was making five hundred dollars a night and a thousand on Saturdays. Pretty soon she would have enough money to take the great Mr. Blackstone back to court.
Arriving at the St. John Hotel and rushing to the lockers to change into her skimpy black-and-white French maid’s uniform with black six-inch heels, she was out
of breath. The restaurant in the hotel catered to the very rich. It mirrored Blackstone’s Omni hotel, only it didn’t have ultramodern furniture. It was more on old-world European model, with its French silk furnishing and original pictures by Monet.
Alex felt lucky to have gotten the job because the last girl fell in the high heels serving drinks. That was a disaster for her but a godsend for Alex. “You’re late,” shouted the pretty waitress with the curvy body. “I’m going to make all those tips if you don’t get here on time.” Crystal confessed, “If Rob hadn’t picked me up, I would be coming in with you now…late.” Crystal swung her tray around waiting for the bartender to complete her order.
When Alex had placed an ad in the local newspaper for a roommate, Crystal walked up looking like a member of one of the local rock bands. Her hair was long and black with streaks of red tint, and she wore a short skirt with black-and-white polka dots. She had a fringed vest and boots, straight out of the seventies with a little of the eighties fashion statement.
She swung around carrying a tray with ten drinks. “Which table is mine?” Alex inquired.
“You were requested at that table.” Crystal pointed at the table seating ten. Alex peeped around and saw a large party of men dressed immaculately in their Armani suits and ties, with the exception of one man dressed in a gray bespoke suit who had just walked away from the table. She recognized the special tailoring of that suit. It was different. At a distance it could be one of Black’s suits, Alex thought.
After walking to the table, she asked for their orders. She moved around the rectangular table as each man placed his order. She turned and ran into that bespoke suit, which decorated a handsome gray-blue-eyed man of about forty with salt-and-pepper hair. He was clean-shaven, and his eyes locked on her.
“Aren’t you going to take my order?”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“The name is St. John, Ms. Bishop.”
“Sir, what would you like?”
“Your telephone number.”
“I’m busy now, sir. I don’t have time to socialize,” she said, meeting his gaze.
“Then just bring me a glass of water,” Charles St. John stated with an arresting smile.
“Very well, sir.”
Alex gripped the tray to keep from biting her nails. It was as though he had undressed her with his steel-gray eyes. She felt she had seen those eyes before. Every time she brought a drink to his table, his eyes followed her. He sat staring at her as she walked in the high heels. She tried to pull the uniform down but tore it instead. The heat from his glances went on for hours, and when it was time for her break, he sat in that same position, his fist to his chin, until she returned.
“He’s making me nervous,” Alex admitted to Crystal. “If I disappear, make sure you tell the police about him.”
“He could take me anytime or any day,” Crystal said with a chuckle. Alex stood gazing at Crystal thinking, What a stupid thing to say.
“I hope you’re not that impressionable.”
“Why not? I would give anything to land a big fish like him.”
“You have my blessings.” Alex couldn’t get out of her mind the problems she was having with Max, and any man at this time would be nothing but trouble.
“Really?”
“You can even take over my table. Tell them I’m on break.”
Alex went to the dressing area and sat to give her feet a rest out of sight of another impossibly handsome man. She couldn’t handle one, so how would she navigate around two, both rich and both big trouble?
* * *
When Alex returned from her break, Crystal had taken another drink order.
“I’m glad you’re back. I can’t keep up with those orders, and those guys are drunk and horny, all except Mr. St. John. I don’t trust a man that never takes a drink.”
“He likes to be in control,” Alex said, glancing at the table.
“How do you know?” Crystal said.
“Trust me. Give me that tray. I’ll get the drinks, and you can take a break.”
“Don’t smile at the one at the end of the table, the one with his back to us, the one all in black. He’s mine,” Crystal said with a grin.
“Don’t worry; I don’t have time for any rich, horny men. As a matter of fact, I’m now celibate.”
“No shit. How does that feel?”
“It feels damn good.” Alex lifted the tray filled with drinks and swung around the corner, strutting with confidence.
“Great, you’re back. I was wondering what happened to you,” St. John said with his eyes burrowing into her body.
“Here is your water, and a glass of white wine for you, a whiskey soda, a glass of red wine, Scotch, and water.” Alex moved around the table looking at the drinks and never looking up. She hadn’t noticed the man who had joined the group.
“Ms. Bishop, did you forget me?” It was a familiar voice. It was a sexy voice. It was a domineering voice. Alex glanced across the table, and her eyes locked on the handsome man dressed all in black. He wore a black silk shirt and a black bespoke suit, and from an angle she spotted a pair of long legs, with one leg crossed over the other, with a pair of black Italian bespoke shoes on his feet.
His fingers rested on his brow. His face was handsome and clean-shaven, and Alex’s legs wobbled at the sight of him. She glanced past Max to see Crystal waving at her and mouthing, “He’s mine.”
“What would you like to drink, Mr. Blackstone?”
“Why, Max, do you know this beautiful woman?” St. John asked, leaning forward and softly touching Alex’s wrist. “You don’t have to answer; I can see it in your face.”
“I’m having what Charles is having.”
“A glass of water. I’ll be right back, Mr. Blackstone.” Alex made a quick turn and rushed to Crystal.
“Crystal, Mr. Blackstone wants a glass of water.”
“That’s all? I’m disappointed. I thought maybe if he had a drink he would make a pass at me.” Crystal’s head swayed with delight.
“Trust me, you don’t want what he’s giving.”
“I would like to find out. Looking at his face, I can imagine it between my legs and my legs wrapped around that handsome—”
“OK, Crystal, keep your panties on.” Placing a glass on her tray, Crystal walked with poise to the table. She posed standing away from Max so she could bend forward to show off her breasts. She placed the water glass in front of Max and poured water from the carafe, gazing into his face. His body turned to face Alex, watching her standing at the corner of the bar.
Crystal rushed to Alex. “I think he’s gay. I did everything and he never even noticed me. You know how everyone says I have these incredible boobs; well he never looked twice at them. Mr. St. John couldn’t keep his eyes off them, but he’s clearly into you.”
“Trust me, he’s not gay and no one is into me, Crystal. St. John is just horny. Maybe his wife hasn’t given him any in months,” Alex said, preparing the garnish for another round of drinks.
Standing at the corner of the bar with her back to the table, she heard, “Alex, I need to speak to you.” Max stood behind her, his voice strong and demanding.
“We have nothing to say to each other,” Alex said, trying to meet his strength.
“Max.” A hand rested on his shoulder. “We don’t allow our waitresses to date the clients.”
“Does that include you, St. John?” Max’s voice rang harsh and confrontational. He never turned around, with his eyes blazing and his brow furrowed.
“Clearly Ms. Bishop does not want to talk to you.”
“Is he speaking for you, Alex?” Max questioned with a steely glance.
“Yes.”
Max turned on his heel and locked eyes with Charles St. John. “Don’t ever come between me and mine. I will forgive it this one time but not twice. If you value your hotels, then don’t cross me or interfere with me and Alex. We have a history together and you don’t understand, and I’m not about to st
and here and explain why I’m talking to her.”
“Maximilian, you may scare others and that little girl, but you don’t scare me, and since you feel the need to threaten me, it is you who need to worry. I will do everything in my power to protect her from you. Please leave, Max. We have been friends a long time and respect each other, but you are out of order,” St. John declared.
“The only thing out of order is for you to come between me and Alex. I will not allow anyone to separate me from Alex. She is mine.”
“I’ve heard you say that before, Max,” St. John said.
Alex’s eyes widened. What the fuck does he mean? I am not the only one he has declared that they belonged to him. They appear to have a history of disagreements over women. I wonder who won. I want to be on the side of the winner.
“Leave, Max,” Alex said with strength in her voice. Max’s stare remained long after he had gone.
“Are you OK, Alex…Ms. Bishop? Can I see you home?”
“I think I may need a ride,” Alex said. She was distraught, thinking that she was fired.
“Ms. Bishop, my limo will take you home.” Alex stumbled along and threw a coat on and told Crystal to drive her Volkswagen home after her shift had ended.
Chapter 12
Walking in a daze, I stepped into the limousine as I had done many times with Max; it just appeared to be normal, as normal as the rain falling on my face on a spring day, and as unlucky as drowning in a teaspoon of water.
“Mr. St. John, I wasn’t aware that you would accompany me home.” I had been startled by his presence and seeing him sitting in his limo.
“Please don’t be uneasy. I haven’t been able to function since my wife died. I just needed the company of a woman.” Why me? I wondered. Clearly he was a man who wouldn’t have a problem getting a date. Maybe it was a woman who didn’t care for a date that turned him on.
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