“You have no idea what they need,” she fired back. “Right now, they’re just trying to survive. I’m there to help them acquire the knowledge they need to get out of the ghetto and off the streets. Do I occasionally come up missing something I went in there with? Yes. But I make damned sure I don’t go in with anything I don’t care to part with.” She looked him up and down with the same insulting air he’d given her the day before when they’d met. “And I don’t go in looking like I believe myself better than all of them. Now go back and change. If you don’t have anything appropriate we can stop at a discount mart and get you some jeans and a shirt.”
The look on Maximilian’s face was priceless. “Discount mart?”
“Yeah. You know. The place where you can get everything for a small amount.”
“Fine. I’ll be right back,” he said, looking as horrified and disgruntled as a man could. He did come back with jeans on. They might have been some fancy designer jeans, but they were jeans.
Getting him to agree to have his driver take them to her house to take her car proved more difficult. He’d wanted a quick getaway in case something went wrong.
“Nothing will go wrong, Max,” she insisted. “I do this every week. Nothing has ever happened that drastic.”
“It only takes once,” he said. In the long-sleeved shirt that looked at least one size too small, stretching over his broad chest, powerful shoulders, and defined arms like a second skin, he looked more than capable of taking anything the little punks could dish out if need be.
“I have faith in my bodyguard,” she said with a smile.
“You think I’m your bodyguard?”
Shrugging, Zeta said, “Well, you are my boyfriend. At least for the next six months. If you’re not into that kind of thing—you know, the sticking up for your woman kind of thing—tell me know. Because it’s a deal breaker.” Then she stopped, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Well, it’s one of many deal breakers but I’m leaving the others be for now. One thing at a time.”
“Of course I’d defend you! I may be a bastard, but I’m not a total brute. I just can’t promise I won’t use excessive force. I’m all about the path of least resistance, especially when it’s the quickest route.”
“Really?” She rolled her eyes. “I never would have known.”
He glared at her. “Are we going or not?”
Chapter Seven
Maximilian tried not to be impressed as he sat patiently waiting for Zeta to be finished with the group of ruffians she was currently drilling on multiplication tables. He wanted to feel the need to roll his eyes or to be angry that he’d had to spend the better part of his Saturday watching Zeta baby teenagers who should have mastered multiplication several years before. The whole thing was absurd.
“Hey, mister. You got a dollar?”
Whipping his head around at the sound, Maximilian found a black child around six or seven looking up at him, hand held out as if he fully expected Max to hand over his money. The boy wore clean but ragged jeans and a T-shirt that looked at least two sizes too big. His shoes, again, were clean but had seen better days. He thought he saw the boy’s socks peeking out from the sides of both shoes but wasn’t sure and had no intention of looking too closely.
“I might,” Max answered not moving or taking his eyes from the boy. “Why do you want to know?”
“I was wanting a hot dog,” the kid said, jerking his head toward the vendor across the room. “I can get a hot dog and a Coke for a dollar.”
“Why didn’t you bring money with you if you wanted something to eat?” The second the words left his mouth, he knew the child probably didn’t have even that. The boy dropped his hand, looking back at the concession stand with regret but resignation.
“Ain’t got none,” he said with a sigh and started to walk away. Something inside Max twisted, and he actually put his hand to his chest.
“Wait,” Max said, feeling an uncharacteristic need to remedy his SNAFU. “Are you here with Zeta?”
“Ms. Z? Na. My sister is though. I’m just hanging.”
“Why aren’t you in Ms. Z’s class?” Why Max was even bothering with the question, he had no idea. All he knew was that something inside him needed to know this kid’s story.
“I don’t need no learnin’.” The kid gave him a pinched-faced look, like Max had done went and lost his mind.”
“Oh, really.” Max raised an eyebrow. “If you had ‘learning’”—he made air quotes—“you might be able to buy yourself a hot dog and a drink.”
The kid sat down beside Max, a grudgingly interested look on his face. “You think so?” He nodded at Max. “You got learnin’?”
“I do. What’s your name, kid?”
“Trevor. What’s yours?”
“Max.” He stuck out his hand to shake the boy’s hand. “I tell you what, Trevor. You go to Ms. Z. Have her teach you multiplication to the twos. If you can say them to me before you leave, you’ll have earned your dollar. Think you can do that?”
“You’ll really give me a dollar if I learn my numbers?” Little Trevor sounded doubtful, but Max saw the glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“I won’t give you anything,” Max said, quickly adding, “you’ll have earned it.”
Trevor looked at him a long moment as if sizing him up. Then he nodded once and scampered over to Zeta’s group. She welcomed him with open arms as the child told her what he wanted. Without looking at Max, Zeta urged him to sit at the table next to her.
For the next couple of hours, Max watched Zeta as she taught the small group of children ranging from Trevor’s age to what had to be late teens. She was patient, laughing with them from time to time, showing them what she thought they needed to know. It was all reading and math at various stages. Max noticed some of the children were advanced for their grade while others were severely behind. Zeta took her time with each child, encouraging them, praising them in turn. Not one of them gave her trouble. Not one complained. And every single one of them looked at her as if she hung the moon.
Maximilian watched little Trevor as he studied and recited his multiplication tables to Zeta. She quizzed him repeatedly, thoroughly, until Trevor rattled them off to her satisfaction. Then she nodded her head, ruffling Trevor’s hair for good measure as the little boy turned and sprinted toward Maximilian.
“Well?” Max asked with a raised brow.
With his little chest puffed out, Trevor recited the multiplication tables not just through two, but through five. Seems the little brat had been holding out. Max had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
“Looks like you’ve exceed my expectation,” he said to the boy. “For that, I think you deserve a bonus.” Maximilian pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it to the child. Trevor’s eyes grew wide, and he grinned widely at Max.
“Wow! Thanks, Mister!”
Not giving Max time to say anything, the kid sprinted to the concession stand and bought two hot dogs, a bag of chips, and soda. Another uncomfortable twang hit Max as he watched Trevor devour the food. How long had it been since the child had eaten?
“It’s probably his first meal of the day,” Zeta said softly from his side. Maximilian hadn’t even heard her approach.
“Are all of them like that?”
“Not all,” she said. Max glanced at her. Zeta had crossed her arms as she watched Trevor as well.
The boy’s sister sat next to him, and Trevor handed her some of his money. She appeared to question him, and Trevor pointed toward Max, explaining excitedly. The kid’s sister scowled at him, obviously not buying something Trevor was telling her. The boy looked over at Max, resignation on his face as if he expected Max to accuse him of stealing the money. Max found himself nodding to the girl in conformation, needing her to know he had indeed parted with the money of his own free will.
“Will they be all right?” Why he asked, Maximilian couldn’t say. He didn’t really care how the little scrap fared. Not rea
lly. He’d either make it or not. If he didn’t learn to use that mind of his, he didn’t deserve to fare well.
Zeta shrugged nonchalantly, but Max could see the calculating gaze she leveled on him. “Who knows? If he keeps coming here for volunteers to help him out, he might do okay. He’s far more likely to end up in a gang or worse before he graduates high school. Assuming he makes it that far.” She paused, no doubt wanting to see something from Max, some show of emotion he didn’t feel. “He has a far better chance here than he would have in a place like Chicago or Los Angeles. Louisville has gangs, but not on that sort of scale. With a little luck and a few caring people to push him in the right direction, he has the brains to make something of himself.”
That little twinge of pain was back. Absently, Max again rubbed his chest, not realizing he’d done so until Zeta looked at his hand pointedly. With a scowl, he took her arm, guiding her toward the door. “Come on. We’re going.”
Chapter Eight
So, the mighty Maximilian Roth had almost been felled by a little scrap of a seven-year-old. Not only was the information surprising, it actually gave Zeta hope of saving this man—and herself. She had no intention of staying with him, but it would definitely make the next six months of her life go much faster if she could tap into that spark of humanity Maximilian kept buried deep. Zeta had to wonder if he buried it deep because he truly wanted to hurt others or to keep from getting hurt himself. She was beginning to suspect the latter.
He was silent all the way back, but several times she caught him muttering to himself. Zeta refused to break his train of thought by asking what he was thinking. The more he thought about little Trevor and his sister, Shani, the more confused he seemed to become. And he was thinking about the children. Zeta knew it in her heart and soul. As they’d left, she’d caught him looking back over his shoulder at the two, rubbing his chest as if it ached.
“There has to be a way to keep those two from going hungry,” he finally said.
“Who?” She feigned ignorance, wanting to see what he’d do. As she expected, he flashed her an annoyed look.
“The kid I bribed and his sister,” he snapped. “How can I keep them from going hungry? They both obviously hadn’t eaten the whole day.”
“Likely not,” she said, trying to sound unconcerned. In truth, she made sure all the kids in her class got one meal from the Y concession stand each time they worked with her. Trevor didn’t normally show with Shani, but Zeta would have made sure he’d had something as well. But it suited her to let Maximilian ponder this. “They can go to the soup kitchens. In fact, I’m pretty sure their mother takes them there when things get too bad.”
“Soup kitchens? Aren’t those places dangerous?”
“Some. At least, the areas around them are a breeding ground for gang recruitment. Unfortunately, their mother has no place else to go. She’s a single mom who dropped out of school and didn’t get her GED. Opportunities aren’t exactly jumping into her lap.”
Maximilian was silent for a long while before he muttered. “Woman should have enough self-respect to at least try to get a high-school equivalency. She should never have had children in the first place.”
Zeta did her best to keep her temper in check by telling herself he was simply ignorant, but even she had to admit that his ignorance wasn’t an excuse for his attitude. “You have no idea what her life has been like, Max,” she snapped. “No idea what kinds of trials that woman has been through. Until you do, I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself. It only shows your ignorance and stupidity.”
“Anyone can get a GED. You just have to put forth the effort.”
“Oh, really? And what if she’s a learning-disabled adult who slipped through an already cracked system? She can’t afford tutors who can reach her intellect level. Hell, she may not even know she has a problem. All she knows is that she can’t understand what she needs to do. She has two children to provide for and has no time to worry about frivolous things like an education for herself when it doesn’t come easily for her.”
He glanced at her sharply. “You sound like you know this woman.”
“I do. She brought Shani to me after the girl failed second grade, telling me she would not let the girl drop out of school like she had. The woman was in tears, and Shani was withdrawn and beaten down on the inside. Debra’s story came out then. I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say she does everything she can to provide for her children. She’s been working at a rundown hotel as a housekeeper for the past few months. It’s one of the seedy ones downtown where there are pimps and prostitutes all around. I can’t even imagine the biohazard she has to clean three days a week. The only reason she continues to work there is because she can go in during the day and because she loves her children too much to let them all live on the street.” Zeta let that sink in before adding. “As it is, I’m not sure she makes much more than what it takes to pay the rent. Ramon noodles are a staple for them.”
“Why not just give her kids up for adoption? They’d have a better life.”
Zeta gave a short, humorless laugh, barely stifling the urge to clock him a good one. “And who do you suppose would want to adopt two inner-city black kids? You? Not being a parent or coming from a loving home, I seriously doubt you can appreciate how utterly ludicrous that question was.” The nerve of the man! Still, Zeta reminded herself that at least he was thinking about someone other than himself. It had to be a move in the right direction.
For the rest of the ride home, neither spoke. Zeta watched Max out of the corner of her eye. His features were schooled, but he still muttered to himself under his breath from time to time. He must have been one of those people who did their thinking in the car during their commute, because in the office he was all business. Now, he seemed more…normal. The cloak and shield he wore had come down, leaving him vulnerable to a certain extent.
As he pulled into the garage of the massive estate he seemed to reach a decision. His face relaxed a bit, and he got that analytical look she had come to associate with him planning something or other for the lives of other people. God help him if he tried to harm Debra or her children, no matter how unintentionally. She’d have to keep a close eye on him and the entire situation. Sighing, she added it to the long, exhausting list of things she needed to worry about regarding Max.
Chapter Nine
Never in his life had Maximilian been so confused. In only a couple of short days, Zeta had completely turned his life upside down. For the first time, he was beginning to think this might not have been such a good idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t think his plan would work. Far from it. It was that he hadn’t planned on becoming emotionally involved. Which he wasn’t with her, per se, but the emotional entanglement around her kids at the Y was eating at him. She’d said she made sure they all had a meal but he was beginning to suspect she did more for them. It was in the way she gave each child her undivided attention when working with them. Like, to her, each of them was special and deserved everything she had to give.
He needed to get back to the business at hand, namely winning her body. The key to a woman was always pleasure. He would woo her with things then with multiple orgasms, and she’d be his. No sweat. All he needed to do was forget about this afternoon and concentrate on her.
With a sigh, he opened the door to her suite, letting her enter ahead of him. “It’s been an exhausting day,” he began, intending to take his leave of her. He needed to think, and he needed to do it away from her. “I have some work to do before bed so—”
“No,” she said simply.
Max had to stifle a groan. She wasn’t letting up. “Excuse me?”
“I said no. You agreed to have supper with me nightly.” She leaned against the counter, cocking her hip and placing one hand on the enticing curve. “Unless you want to just call the whole thing off.”
The little wench had him, and she knew it. With a little mocking bow he said, “Far be it for me to call an end to an
arrangement I want so badly.”
“Need,” she said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Need. This isn’t an arrangement you want. You need it. You know. To get control of your bank and everything.”
“And you are proving more a thorn in my side than I ever thought possible,” he muttered more to himself than to her. “But of course I’ll stay. What concoction are you going to whip up tonight?”
What, indeed. The woman had made pizza. Not from a box but completely homemade, right down to the sauce and the crust. And, God almighty, it was delicious. They didn’t talk much, but Maximilian thought that, from now on, he wouldn’t miss a meal with her for anything in the world. Forgot, in fact, why he’d wanted to in the first place.
“I take it you approve of supper?”
Max tried to feign indifference but wasn’t sure he managed it. “It’s…passable.”
She snorted none too delicately. “Is that why you ate half a pie?”
All he could do was shrug. “Okay, so it was really good.”
“Admit it,” she said, a smug look on her face. “You like this ritual.”
“I never admit to anything.”
“Even how much you want to help Trevor and his sister?”
She’d slipped in the comment so easily. Maximilian would have been proud if he hadn’t been so irritated. The woman could definitely hold her own with him. “That’s not your concern,” he said smoothly, knowing she wouldn’t let it go. “I’ll deal with that in my own way.”
“Figured you might,” she said as she stood to gather the dishes. “Help me finish the clean up then we can sit and talk about it.”
“Did I not just say…never mind.” Maximilian waved a hand in the air in surrender. “Do you never stop?”
With a mind-scrambling smile, Zeta answered, “Nope.”
Cleaning the kitchen didn’t take much time, as Zeta did most of her cleanup as she went. Still, Maximilian found he actually enjoyed doing the mundane task with her. She seemed to drop the subject of the kids and the Y in favor of forgettable chitchat. As it was, Max found himself watching her more than listening to her. Every time she bent over or stretched to reach something her jeans seemed to stretch lovingly over her ass, making him long to mold those same curves with his hands. Unfortunately that didn’t seem to be forthcoming any time soon.
Loving the Bastard Page 4
