Mad About Max

by Holly Jacobs

  “Could one of you please say something that makes sense!”

  Myrtle held up a hand, silencing her two sisters. “It’s like this. Max got on the plane, but we forgot to watch where he went from there, so we couldn’t find him. Do you have any idea how big a city Las Vegas is?”

  Grace nodded, unwilling to say anything that would interrupt Myrtle’s train of thought.

  “Well, we didn’t want to worry you.”

  “But we were worried,” Fern threw in.

  “Very worried,” echoed Blossom.

  Myrtle glared at the two. They sat on the end of the bed and shut their mouths. Myrtle picked the story back up. “Well, we were worried. We couldn’t let Max know where Clarence took you if we couldn’t find him. But then Max—who we’re happy to tell you is every bit as bright as we’d hoped—thought to send Leo to your house.”

  “Into your bathroom,” Fern added.

  “And I wrote the message this time,” Blossom said proudly.

  “Which was?” Grace asked.

  Myrtle jumped back in. “Why, that Clarence is taking you to the Amazing Grace Wedding Chapel. We told Max a few minutes before we came here, so he should meet you there.” The three ladies were smiling, pleased that things were coming together.

  “The Amazing Grace Wedding Chapel?” Grace couldn’t help laughing as relief poured through her body. Max was on his way.

  Fern sighed, dreamily. “We saw it in the yellow pages when Clarence was looking through the listings, and we knew--”

  “Oh, yes we knew—” Blossom echoed.

  “That it was the place, the only place for you two to get married!” Myrtle exclaimed, triumphant.

  “For Clarence and me to get married?”

  “No, dear. You and Max,” three voices said together.

  “So, my white knight is really charging to my rescue?” Grace felt slightly uneasy. Something felt wrong about the fairies’ explanation, but she couldn’t figure out what bothered her.

  “Isn’t that what you wanted, Grace?” A worried wrinkle marred Myrtle’s brow.

  “I’m not sure,” Grace mused. “It sounds so romantic in my books to have the hero charge in and save the damsel in distress. But I don’t know if I want to walk around for the rest of my life knowing I had to rely on Max to save me, that I wasn’t smart enough or capable enough to save myself.”

  “Oh, dear,” three voice said, worry in their voices once again. Before Grace could ask what was wrong, they blinked out of the room.

  “Wait!” she called after them. “You can’t leave.”

  There was no use yelling, the room was empty. The fairies had left because she’d told them she didn’t want Max to rescue her. She would have slapped her forehead if her hands weren’t still bound. She’d told the fairies she wanted to rescue herself. She didn’t have the foggiest idea how to go about it.

  What had she done?

  Eight

  MAX FLEW FROM the hotel, a sense of urgency riding his heels. Still dressed in his now sorry-looking tux, he hailed a taxi. “I need to get to the Amazing Grace Wedding Chapel,” he told the driver as he climbed into the car.

  “Ah, Amasin’ Grace,” the driver said in heavily accented English.

  “Yes, the Amazing Grace Wedding Chapel,” Max repeated, more slowly this time.

  “Yes, I will take you.” The driver pushed the gas pedal to the floor. They sped into the line of traffic, cars honking as they braked to allow the taxi into the flow. The cabbie drove at an astounding speed down the street, and all the red lights turned to green as they approached.

  Maybe the fairies are helping me, Max thought with a smile.

  After the first fifteen minutes passed, the car gave no indication of slowing down. They also didn’t seem to be any closer to their destination. Max’s confidence in the fairies’ help was crumbling, particularly when he remembered how their “help” had ended in the book he’d read.

  “Sir?” he called to the cab driver. “Are we almost there?”

  “Yes,” the man yelled back.

  Max settled back in the seat and tried not to worry. But when ten more minutes went by without the cab slowing or stopping, his worry increased.

  “Sir, why don’t you just let me off here?” he finally asked. He’d find another cab with, hopefully, a cab driver who spoke English.

  “Yes,” the cabbie called back without slowing down. They took another corner at a speed that should have tipped the vehicle over.

  “Myrtle,” Max yelled, knowing it probably wouldn’t do any good.

  “Yes,” said the cabbie.

  Max had a bad feeling that this was no ordinary cab ride. “Myrtle!” he yelled again, not really expecting a reply. He wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t get one.

  “MYRTLE,” GRACE bellowed, knowing there would be no answer. What would she do now? Things were going from bad to good, from good to bad, and then from bad to worse. Why couldn’t she learn to keep her mouth shut around the fairies? They took all her musings literally and, as a writer, musing was what she did best.

  It looked like the godmothers planned to head Max off, so no cavalry was coming. No white knight on his giant steed would show up to rescue her.

  Grace MacGuire was going to have to rescue herself.

  She tugged at the rope that bound her arms together, to no avail. Clarence might not be the brightest bulb in the socket, but he tied knots with a scout’s dexterity.

  Her white dress was beginning to nauseate her. It had been the perfect dress to wear while spending the evening with Max, but the dress didn’t exist that would be perfect for any time with Clarence. She wanted out of here. She wanted Max.

  She decided being a woman of the new millennium wasn’t worth it. She could live with her knight riding to her rescue, but how could she convince the fairies of that?

  “Myrtle, I’ve changed my mind,” she called, only to be met with silence.

  What was she going to do now?

  “AMAZING GRACE Wedding Chapel,” Max reminded the driver who drove erratically through the city. They were now in a section of town he thought they’d driven through before.

  “Yes,” the driver placated him.

  Max sat back in his seat and ground his teeth. He wanted Grace. He wanted her in his arms. He wanted to tell he loved her. He needed to tell her he knew she wasn’t crazy or, if indeed she was, then he was crazy too, so it didn’t matter.

  He watched the buildings and scenery whizzing past. He could jump, but judging by their speed, he’d end up in the hospital and then who would save Grace?

  The even-tempered Artemus Maxmillion Aaronson was feeling very out of sorts. And the focus of his out-of-sortedness was three invisible fairies who were making a muck of his relationship with Grace. If he could ever get his hands on them, he’d . . . He wasn’t sure what he’d do, but it would be memorable, he vowed.

  “IT’S TIME, GRACE,” Clarence said as he entered the room.

  “Time?” She desperately tried to think of a way to stall him, but no miracle presented itself.

  “Time for us to head to the chapel. I know you’re excited, sweetheart. Just think, an hour from now you’ll be Grace Darington. Mrs. Clarence Darington. We’ll come back here, to this room, and we’ll have a honeymoon.”

  Clarence’s smile sent chills climbing Grace’s spine.

  “Oh, it’ll be something to tell the grandkids, won’t it? Then again, it’s something we probably shouldn’t tell them. But we’ll never forget it, will we?”

  “I can absolutely guarantee you that I will never forget a minute of this weekend.” Grace glared at her kidnapper-would-be-husband.

  He untied her hands. After so many hours behind her back, they were numb. Grace moved them awkwardly, trying to stretch them ou
t. Each movement brought more feeling and more pain into each arm.

  Clarence grimaced as he watched her restore her circulation. “I’m sorry, dear. I just didn’t want to take the chance of you getting cold feet and taking off. And remember, I have that little helper in my pocket if the jitters do hit you again. One way or another, you will be my wife.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, extending his hand to help her to her feet.

  Grace didn’t want to touch him, but she feared he would use the drug if she didn’t do what he wanted.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” After she stood, she continued rubbing her arms. She needed to be ready for whatever opportunities presented themselves.

  “Then we’re off.”

  “Yeah,” was the best Grace could offer. How was she going to rescue herself from this man?

  “Myrtle,” she whispered frantically.

  Who was she kidding? The fairies weren’t coming to her rescue, and they weren’t going to let Max come, either. It looked like Grace MacGuire’s rescue rested in her own hands.

  “HAVEN’T WE PASSED this casino before,” Max asked the driver.

  “No,” the cabbie said as the cab hurtled forward faster than before.

  “We really need to get to the Amazing Grace Wedding Chapel.”

  “Yes,” came the response.

  By now, Max had lost all faith in the fairies. How was he going to get out the cab? If worse came to worse, it would eventually run out of gas. But would that happen in time to save Grace?

  “DARLING, ARE YOU happy?” Clarence said as he pulled Grace into his arms. They were riding in the back of a cab towards the wedding chapel.

  Grace suddenly had an idea. It felt like one of those little nudges that tickled the back of her mind until it grew into a story.

  This particular idea was growing quickly. Clarence was the type of man who wouldn’t believe that any woman could resist his charms. If she added that to his dense intelligence, her plan might work.

  “Oh, Clarence, how could a girl not be happy marrying you?” she crooned, swaying toward him. “You’re everything I could ever want in a husband.”

  He stared at her, startled. “Oh, Grace I’m so glad to hear that. I was afraid you were still stuck on that Max guy.”

  “How could he ever hold a candle to you? He was just a fling, a way to make you jealous. And it worked, didn’t it? You couldn’t stand the thought of another man marrying me, so you kidnapped me and dragged me away to make me your bride. It’s all so romantic, Clarence.” She wanted to throw up at the sound of her simpering voice.

  “It is romantic, isn’t it?” His chest visibly puffed out.

  The cab stopped in front of a neon pink building that had roses planted on either side of the walkway. They dominated the front of the building, and their scent was so strong they were overpowering.

  But Grace gushed, “Oh, Clarence, it’s simply darling.”

  He paid the cabbie, still grasping her arm as if he feared she would bolt. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Oh, I do, darling. This whole adventure has been romantic. You’ve swept me off my feet, carried me away to marry you, and you don’t even care about my money—or my lack of it.”

  He chuckled. “You might not have much now, Grace, but you and I both know that you’ll come into a load of it next year.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, hoping she looked puzzled.

  “Darling, I know all about the trust your father set up,” Clarence explained. “On your thirtieth birthday you’ll have control of the entire portfolio.”

  Grace laughed. “Clarence, you’re such a kidder. You know that isn’t true.”

  He abruptly halted their walk towards the front door and eyed her suspiciously. “What do you mean, it isn’t true?”

  “Why, you’re talking about the trust as if we’ll really see any of it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Why surely Leila and Doris told you about the codicil in my father’s will?” She tried to sound nervous. “They did tell you, didn’t they?”

  “I’m sure they mentioned it, but why don’t you tell me again?” he said as he led her to a stone bench.

  She jumped into her story. “Of course, I’ll tell you. Daddy couldn’t stand the thought of someone marrying me for my money—or for the potential money—so he added a qualification. The money is mine, unless I marry. If I do marry, all the money will go to Daddy’s favorite charity.”

  It was hard, but she managed not to laugh at his shocked look. If she ever stopped writing, maybe she should consider becoming an actress.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  Grace knew she had to play this scene just right, or Clarence would see right through her ploy. She thought about onions; she thought about every sad movie she’d ever seen; she thought about nightmares she’d had when she was a child. But none of that was enough.

  She then thought of cold, endless nights without Max, and the tears began to flow. “Clarence, I thought you knew. It doesn’t make a difference, does it, darling? You still want to marry me, don’t you?”

  Clarence didn’t say a word, he just sat there staring at her, rage and disbelief warring on his face.

  “Clarence?” she prodded.

  “Does it make a difference?” His voice rose in volume with every word. “Of course it makes a difference, you twit! Why else would any man want to marry you?” He stood, pacing back and forth in front of her.

  “You’re pretty now, even beautiful, but you weren’t before, and it’s a sure bet you’ll eventually fade back into your previous mediocrity.”

  He glared at her, as if her beauty was a thing to be reviled, as he continued, “You live in your books. You’ve never needed real human beings around. Doris and Leila have told me everything about you. They said you’re a cold woman, and you’ll probably be frigid in bed. So, of course, the money makes a difference.”

  Thinking of being held in Max’s arms, Grace wanted to smile. She’d be anything but frigid then. “Clarence, I don’t know what to say. I thought you loved me. I asked Max to pretend to be engaged to me just to make you jealous. I thought you loved me, and all this time you’ve only wanted me for my money?”

  “Ah, you are a naive little thing.” He smiled, as if her gullibility made him feel better about his. “I never loved you. You’re right; I just wanted your money, but if there’s no money . . .” He paused and watched her, as if waiting for her to confirm her financial status.

  She did, shaking her head sadly. “There’s no money.”

  “Well, if that’s true, then I guess you and I—”

  She’d fallen into the role. “Don’t say it, Clarence. Please don’t tell me it’s over!” Dramatically, she threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him as shivers of revulsion climbed her spine.

  Firmly he set her aside. “Grace, this could never work out. I need the money. You see I made certain investments on the basis of our future income. Now I don’t know what I’ll do.” He again began to pace in front of her.

  “You mean you borrowed money from some of those loan shark guys?”

  “Well, not exactly. The men who fronted me the money don’t deal with the normal pool-hall types. I mean they weren’t loan sharks,” he amended. “But they will expect their money back, and if they don’t get it…” He let the sentence die right there.

  Grace felt a wave of pity sweep through her. “There must be something we can do—short of marrying, of course.”

  “There’s nothing, unless . . . ?”

  “Yes?”

  “What if we didn’t get married? You’d still inherit the money, right?”

  Cautiously Grace nodded her head.

  “Well, maybe you’d consider loanin
g me the money to pay off the men I borrowed from.”

  “And how would you pay me back? After all, you wouldn’t be my husband, and you did kidnap me and threaten to drug me.”

  “There was never any drug,” he confessed. “I just said that to get you to cooperate. And I guess I could get a job to pay you back.” He didn’t sound thrilled with the idea.

  “What kind of work can you do?”

  “Well, I’m very good at entertaining the ladies. I make a mean martini, and I love to play baccarat.”

  “Not an impressive resume.” Another idea occurred to her. “But I think I just might have the ideal job for you.”

  “What?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

  “A friend owns a spa in DC. He caters to older women, seeing to their needs, pampering them. With your impressive resume, you might be perfect for the job. Would you like me to call him?”

  “You’d do that?” She decided Clarence might be dense, but he had enough smarts to look suspicious.

  “I’ll do it, but you have to promise not to kidnap women in the future. Whatever possessed you to kidnap me in the first place?” She asked the question, but she had her suspicions—three as a matter of fact.

  Clarence grimaced. “I really don’t know. One minute I was fuming about losing a chance with you, and the next the thought of kidnapping you just popped into my head, like magic. I’m really sorry. I hope you won’t harbor any hard feelings against me.”

  Grace would have liked to bear a grudge, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t Clarence’s fault. The fairies had made him do it.

  “No hard feelings,” she said. “At least, not too many. I’ll see you after we get back to Erie and make that call to my friend.”

  “We?”

  “Oh, Max should be here anytime now,” she replied with confidence.

  “How do you know?” he asked, and as she opened her mouth to tell him he shook his head. “Forget it. I don’t want to know. Just like I don’t want to know who you were talking to when you were alone, or how you went from an average looking woman to a knockout.”

  He began to walk away from the chapel, then glanced back at her. “You’ll be okay until Max comes?” he asked, seeming genuinely concerned.