by Mary Smith
“Thank you for everything you did for me today. No one has ever done anything so special for me.”
“You’re welcome.” I don’t know what else to say.
“Which side do I sleep on?” She steps back over to the dresser.
“You pick. I’ll leave the bathroom light on. If you want that side, it’s fine.”
“Thank you.” She gives me a small smile and moves to the other side of the bed.
I slide under the covers and turn off my light. Maxima very slowly eases into the bed. I’m trying to remain quiet to see if she wants to say something. I can’t believe she kissed me. I almost want to jump up and down. You’d think I was thirteen and it was my first kiss ever. Her lips were so soft, and it didn’t last nearly long enough.
But I will not push her.
There’s more to her story, and I know deep down it’s something very bad. I will wait for her to open up to me. And I will be here for her.
I’m on my back, and I glance over at Maxima. Her long black hair is spread out over the pillow. I desperately want to wrap my arms around her.
I try to think about the last time I even fucked a girl. Keaton, Kyson, and I used to go out a lot, and they’d pick up the hotties. I’ve always been different. I want a relationship. I want a family. I want someone to be home when I come off the road.
I want someone like Maxima.
I want Maxima.
“Pancakes.” Arabella smiles.
I love cooking for her and Maxima. They both are always happy when they sit down at the table.
“I can’t wait to start dance class.” She has said this sentence ten times in the past three minutes.
“Well, I can’t wait to see you dance.” Sitting the plate in front of her, I kiss the top of her head.
Arabella gasps. “Max, you’re beautiful.”
I turn around and my knees go weak. Maxima is standing in front of me. She has on black slacks, a deep purple blouse, and purple heels. Her hair is in soft waves and her makeup just enough to highlight her stunning features. But most of all, her curves are accentuated, not hidden.
“Thank you.” She smiles. It’s a bright and real smile.
“Maxima, may I speak to you for a moment?” I nod toward the living room.
She follows me, and I take her hand, pulling her closer to me. My emotions are running on high right now.
“You are drop dead gorgeous. Thank you for letting me spoil you yesterday. If you let me, I’d like to take you on another date.”
Her silvery blue eyes shine bright. “Your parents are coming tonight.”
“I know, but when they leave or maybe they can watch Arabella one night. What do you say?”
She bites down on her lip. “Don’t grab me.” She warns me as she leans in and kisses the corner of my mouth.
Again.
“I’d love to,” she answers.
Before I can say anything else, Arabella comes running in. “Come on, Max, it’s time to go to school.” She jumps up and down. I had planned to take her, but if she’s excited for Max to drive her, I have no issues with it.
“Well, let’s go.” Maxima is smiling still.
This is the Maxima I want to know more about.
The real Maxima.
Arabella looks nervous when we walk into the dance studio. As excited as she has been, I’m not sure what’s changed.
“You okay?” I kneel down to her.
“Yes,” she whispers as the other girls and their mothers come filing in. “Max is coming, right?”
“Yes. Her meeting ran long, but she’ll be here soon.”
“What if I can’t dance?” She’s suddenly self-conscious.
“That’s why there’s a teacher. She’ll instruct you on what to do.” I almost think she might cry. “If you want to go home—”
“No.” She shakes her head. “As long as Max comes, I’ll be okay, and you’re not leaving, right?”
“Nope, I’m not.” I kiss her forehead. I stand up and take her hand. Together, we go up to the counter and sign in.
The instructor, who introduces herself as Miss Becca, shakes my hand and Arabella’s. Becca is around forty, if that, and overly excited about dancing. However, it puts Arabella at ease. At least, a little bit. She keeps looking over her shoulder at the door. She’s looking for Maxima.
“The parents sit over there.” Miss Becca points to a small set of bleachers where a gaggle of women are sitting.
“You okay?” I ask Arabella again.
She nods and takes Miss Becca’s outstretched hand. I watch for a few seconds as she leads my daughter to the small group of girls. I head over to the bleachers, and I feel all the ladies’ eyes on me. Manchester isn’t a massively huge city, and the Bears are the most popular sports team. I’m used to the stares and whispers when I come into a room. It’s what happens when you’re the number one Bears player and the number one in the professional hockey league. Especially, with women.
I know I’m judging, but my new contract was all over the news. Some, not all, only see dollar signs. I’m never more thankful for Maxima than now. She doesn’t see those signs. Since she’s started opening up, it’s even better. I politely smile at the mothers and take a seat near the edge on the bottom row, the farthest from them. I pull out my phone and send a text to Maxima.
Still @ work?
There’s no quick response, and I’m hoping that means she’s on her way. She promised Arabella, and I know she won’t break it either.
My phone vibrates, but it’s not Maxima.
Traffic isn’t bad. Should be there in an hour or so.
My mom’s text makes me smile. I’m excited to see them. Even though I told them to fly, they like their road trips.
Can’t wait. Everyone excited to see you and meet you.
I can’t wait to talk to my mom in person. She’s got one of the best legal minds and is the most compassionate people I know. I need her expertise to figure out how to tell Maxima the truth about my lies surrounding our fake engagement. I need her help with how to keep Maxima and not lose her all together.
How did I screw all of this up? I thought.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I smile at the single word from Maxima.
Here.
I look up at Arabella as Miss Becca walks them through some basic steps. Arabella seems to be keeping an eye on me and the other on her teacher. I wish there were some way I could tell her Maxima is coming, but I don’t have a way. Her face lights up brighter than spotlights on the ice when the door opens and Maxima strolls in.
Damn, she takes my breath away.
She comes right to me, and without thinking, I stand and take her hand, guiding her to the seat beside me.
“Did I miss anything?” she asks, almost out of breath.
“Did you run?” I half joke.
“Sort of.” She smiles.
I chuckle. “You haven’t missed anything. How was your day?”
She rolls her eyes. “Very long.”
“Everything okay?” I squeeze her hand.
“Jackson, my boss, was a total jerk to me.” She tucks her hair behind her ears. “I told him I wanted Friday off. I thought I’d take your mom and Arabella to have main-pedis, have some girl time, but when I told him, he gave me an evil look. Then he reminded me I took yesterday off, which pissed me off. I have over two hundred hours of sick time and six weeks’ vacation. I have the time to spare. Plus, I don’t have any meetings on Friday, and it’s not like he doesn’t take time off to golf.” She huffs.
I’m pretty sure she said all that in one breath. In fact, I never heard her vent like this before. She’s really upset.
“It’s sweet you want to take them out, but you don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to, but a real girlfriend would do it. Plus, Arabella likes it and it’s relaxing.” She looks out toward where Arabella is learning a new step. “How was your day?”
I know her well enough to know she’s ready
to change the subject and doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.
“My day has been good. I made sure the guest room is all set up. My parents will be here soon. I’d figured we order take out since I’m sure neither of us wants to cook after our day.”
She nods, looking at me. There’s a small smile on her face. “Sounds perfect.”
We both watch Arabella, and I realize as I’ve done several times since Maxima moved in, this is exactly where I want to be. I need to man up and talk to her. If she leaves, it will be my own fault, and I’ll have to suffer the consequences.
Shit, that’ll be exactly what Mom says.
I leave my thoughts and focus on the here and now. I’m holding my fiancée’s hand, my daughter is a happy, healthy eight-year-old, and I’m living a lie.
For now.
When the hour of dance is over, Arabella comes racing into Maxima’s arms and begins talking a mile a minute.
“Did you see me, Max? Did I do good? I like it here. I made a friend too, and Miss Becca is nice.”
Maxima giggles at Arabella rapid talking. “You were wonderful, and I’m glad you had a great time.”
“I did. Dad, you saw too, right?” She beams at me.
“Every move, honey. Are you ready to go? Grandma and Grandpa should be here soon.”
“Can I ride with Max?”
“Sure you can. Come on.” Maxima smiles.
Arabella hugs me before taking Maxima’s hand, and we all walk out together.
As I pull up the driveway, I see my parents sitting on the bench on the front porch. I love my parents. Even though they both had high-powered, demanding jobs, they always made time for us. We always had family dinners, no matter what, and they took a deep interest in our schooling.
“Dad.” I grin, walking up the couple stairs. My father stands and embraces me. His black hair has begun to thin and turn gray. Besides our hair, Cora and I get our eye color from him too.
“How are you, son?” He releases me and stands tall. It’s his military gene, as he calls it.
“Good,” I answer before kissing Mom’s cheek and hugging her. Mom has always been short, but makes up for it with her genius brain. “We need to talk. Just us,” I whisper in her ear. She pats my back twice letting me know we will.
“Where’s my granddaughter?” Mom releases me.
Before I can answer, Maxima’s BMW pulls into the driveway. Arabella comes squealing out of the car toward her grandparents. My parents race to her, and they meet in the yard. Hugging and kisses are all around for the three of them.
I chuckle and walk over to Maxima, who’s carrying all of Arabella’s bags and hers. I take them all from her, receiving a smile from her.
“They all seem very happy,” she observes.
“Yes. It’s been a while since my parents have seen Arabella.” I nod my head toward the house and she follows me.
We aren’t in there long before Mom, Dad, and Arabella come in. I introduce everyone. Maxima smiles at them, shaking their hands.
“Dad said we can have pizza,” Arabella announces.
I shake my head. “No, I said we’d order something.”
“Pizza is fine,” Dad says and pats Arabella on the head. “We’ll have whatever our granddaughter wants to have.”
“Pizza!” Arabella jumps up and down, making us all laugh.
From the time I order the food, until it is all gone, Arabella keeps our attention. She talks about school, dancing, her toys, and the books she and Maxima are reading. There’s not a topic she misses.
Finally, I tell her it’s time for bed and she groans. Maxima takes her upstairs, leaving me with my parents.
“Remy,” Mom calls me by my childhood name, and she still calls me from time-to-time. “You should show me the backyard while your dad opens some wine for all of us.”
“Sure.” I catch on to what she’s doing, and I lead her out to the backyard.
My backyard isn’t huge, but it’s large enough. Mainly it’s playground equipment for Arabella.
“Okay, Remy, talk.” She sits down on one of the patio chairs.
“I’m fucked.” Not the best way to start, but it’s the truth. “I fucked up, and now I’m fucked.”
“I think you should explain more to me.” Mom rests her head on the palm of her hand, and I take a seat next to her.
I take a deep breath and tell her how I lied and manipulated Maxima into moving in and being engaged to me. I explain how much I’ve fallen in love with her, and how I don’t want her to leave Arabella or me. When I finish, my mother is staring at me. I can’t read her expression. Then again, Mom has a pretty stone-like face. It’s her job.
“You’re not saying anything.”
“Remy, I’m trying to decide if I should give you a constructive critique of how stupid you are or punch you in the nose.”
Before I can respond, she continues.
“This is a young woman’s life you’re toying with, Remington Scott.”
Oh God, she’s pissed now if she says my middle name.
“She has the right to know this. Every single bit of it. And let me add this, you’re now messing with Arabella’s life too. I can see how fond she is of Maxima. How hurt do you think she’ll be if Maxima leaves?”
I try to say something to defend myself but she doesn’t stop.
“We raised you to be a good and honorable man. Not a liar and con artist. That’s what you are right now. I knew you were lying when you told me about Maxima moving in and being engaged.”
“May I say—”
“No, you may not,” Mom growls at me. “I think you said enough. In fact, you said more than enough. If you told me all of this to help you get out it, then you’ll be highly disappointed.”
“I want to keep Maxima in my life and here with me,” I rush out before she cuts me off again.
“Then you need to man up and tell her the truth. But, if I were her, I wouldn’t stay. You lied Remington Scott. Lied. On top of that, you’re making her a liar too. What is wrong with you? What could you have possibly been thinking when you thought this was the right thing to do?”
“I wanted Maxima.” My answer is simple.
“Well, you did it the wrong way.”
Just then I hear Maxima’s laugh as she and Dad come outside.
“We thought we’d enjoy the night as well,” Dad says as he sits down with us.
“Arabella was out before I finished the chapter.” Maxima smiles, taking my hand and the place next to me.
Mom launches into a discussion with Maxima about Maxima’s job. Sweet Maxima tells her the ins and outs of the investment banking world. Mom and Dad talk about their years in the military, Mom’s law school and JAG career, and Dad’s years in the Pentagon.
“Well, I hate to end this evening, but I have to work tomorrow.” Maxima stands up.
“I, for one, am looking forward to our girls’ day on Friday.” Mom beams.
Maxima has won over my parents. Now, I need to man up and tell her the truth.
Chapter Five
Maxima
I sit across from Jackson’s desk. He’s staring at me and I at him. If he thinks I’m backing down, he’s the one who’s going to be wrong.
“Fine. Just go ahead and take tomorrow off, but I’m seriously seeing a decline in your work.”
I shake my head. “Jackson, I have more clients than anyone else in this office. I handle my workload just fine.” Say what you want, but my work ethic is solid tight.
“You did,” he corrects me. “I’ve been sending our new clients to other staff.”
“Why?” I gasp. I’ve always gotten first crack at new clients.
“Because you’re not the shark you once were, Maxima. Your mind is elsewhere.”
I narrow my glare at him, but I don’t utter another word. I simply get up and head toward the door. Before I reach it, Jackson blocks it, and my heart starts pounding.
I can’t be blocked in a room. He always blocked me in
.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it came out,” Jackson apologizes.
His words barely register with me because my ears are ringing. My heart is hammering, and I’m beginning to sweat. No, I forbid myself to have a panic attack here.
“Fine,” I manage to say.
He nods and opens the door for me.
I run to my office and grab everything before racing to my car. I drive home in record time and see Remington’s car, but not his parents. They all must be out.
I bolt into the house and straight into the bedroom, only to find Remington stretched out on the bed with his iPad.
“Hey, you’re home early.” He sits up. “Mom and Dad picked Arabella up.” He puts down his tablet. “I thought—” he stops when he looks me over. “Maxima, what’s wrong?”
The panic attack is coming on stronger, like a building tsunami heading for a small island. The breathing exercises aren’t helping. I need something stronger. I need…
Remington.
I drop all my things and practically jump into his arms. He catches me with ease as the tsunami hits the shore. I sob into his chest as the memories hit me.
She always yelled at me. “What do you have that I don’t?” or “You better make him happy tonight.” It started at the age of six. Night after night, he would come into my room. Him pinning my wrist down, my screams, my pain, my tears are all echoing in my head.
I had to get out of their house. I couldn’t stay. When I was sixteen, I found out about Boston College’s early scholarship program. I busted my ass all through school to keep my grades up and well above average. Boston College was my ticket out.
When the news came to me that I’d gotten the scholarship, I was able to find jobs that paid cash so I could buy a plane ticket. Hell, I would have hitchhiked if I’d had to.
My last night there, I packed a small bag, just a few clothes and my copy of Little Women, because it was my favorite book, and I always wanted to be strong like Jo.
I counted down the hours, and with two hours left, I heard the front door slam. He was home. I prayed to God he would just pass out… instead he turned my door handle. The bile moved up my throat.
