by Amy Marie
“Mr. Lux, where is your date?” a reporter demanded, and I clenched my teeth. I never brought a date to these things, so why did they keep asking?
Instead of answering, I ignored him.
“Mr. Lux, over here!” I turned slightly and smiled, not looking at anyone in particular. I could tell the general area that demand came from, but not who said it. “What do you think about the rumors the charity is siphoning funds to line the pockets of the board members instead of going to the projects your grandfather instituted?”
I’d heard these rumors a year ago and investigated them. One board member had somehow convinced the trust which managed the money at the time to give her some of the interest, believing I would never find out about it. Both parties were dealt with swiftly, and the funds were moved to another company. Everything was done in secret because I did not want anyone to question our use of the funds. The authorities were notified, a report went out to the necessary individuals. “I would say that if someone tried to do something as stupid as that, they would pay the price. The money is not for personal gain.”
“So, is it true?” several reporters asked.
“There was an issue, and due to that, we have tightened security. This money was raised and is only allocated to programs The Sky’s The Limit supports. Nothing else.” This could end up being a never-ending cycle with them. Once they dug in their claws, they would peck until someone stopped them, or I left. “Thank you for coming tonight!” I stepped toward the door, and entered the planetarium, relieved to be away from the noise and lights. Every year, it got worse.
My ears were still ringing when Mrs. Harris approached. “You’re late.”
Grinning, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. She was shorter than I was by a foot with long, light brown hair that had been pulled back into a low bun on the back of her head. Fifteen years older than me, she was married and had two kids in middle school, twins, and still managed to organize my life.
She swatted my arm away. “Save it for the guests. You don’t fool me. Neither one of you smells like smoke, and no alarm alerted at your apartment.” Leaning forward, she sniffed me and then Fizz. “You smell like Curve for Men, and he smells like Old Spice. Really, Fizz, there are better scents you can use.”
“But I like this one,” he smirked. Fizz had other colognes and aftershaves he wore, but in a big crowd like this, it was always his go-to. He said he wore the Old Spice to stop people from hitting on him. It never worked. Personally, I think he wore it for other reasons, not sure what they could be, though.
“You can save that for the guests, too,” Mrs. Harris snapped, wagging her finger to scold him. They’d known each other since college, and he was the one who suggested she would make a great assistant for me. He’d been right.
Shaking his head, Fizz stepped behind me. “Not my monkey, not my circus. I’m here to make sure our little prince is safe, and nothing happens to anyone else by managing my team. That’s all.”
“Gee, thanks,” I groused and rolled my eyes. I hated to be called prince because it did nothing except remind me of that damn story, the damn curse, my damn lot in life.
“You’re welcome.” Fizz dropped his large hand onto my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.
Mrs. Harris lifted her tablet and tapped the screen. “Guests are still arriving. We’ve had a few people we had to turn away because they claimed they bought tickets, but they weren’t on the list, and the printed tickets they showed were fake and very poorly done. You would think people would wise up and get better at it. Your parents messaged me. Your mother had a wardrobe malfunction, but they are on their way. They should be here shortly.”
“So, why are you getting onto me when they are late too?” I demanded harshly, earning a glare from her.
“They may be associated with the organization, but you are the organizer and in charge. You were expected to be here early to deal with any last-minute issues and details,” she stated calmly, tapping on her screen again.
“Were there any issues?”
She didn’t look up. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“See? You took care of everything.” I beamed and almost withered when her head popped up, and her scathing stare practically burned me. Clearing my throat, I said contritely, “Thank you for everything, Mrs. Harris. I really do appreciate all of your hard work. Thank you also for being here when I could not.”
I saw her roll her eyes and sigh, and I wondered whether she was questioning her sanity in continuing to work with me, weighing the pros and cons. “Mingle, be polite, smile, and do everything you’re supposed to do.”
Saluting her, I winked. “Yes, ma’am.”
As she walked away, no doubt to check on something else, I heard her mumble, “Smartass.”
Chapter 9
Max
Throughout the next hour, while guests arrived, I flitted around the room to greet them, welcoming them to our event, and giving them the spiel about how amazing the charity was and what good their money could do for it. Same song and dance, different year.
Before dinner was served, and as I was making my way up to the podium to give a small speech, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, tingling. Surreptitiously, I tried to scan the room to figure out why, but I didn’t see anyone or anything. I closed my eyes for a brief second, calling out to the swan dwelling within me, and he was calm.
Standing at the podium, I looked out over the crowd, a smile pasted on my face, my back teeth grinding against each other. How many of them genuinely wanted to be here to help children, to help the adults who had somehow slipped through the cracks and couldn’t read? How many were there for the right reasons and not merely for the publicity? I shouldn’t care, shouldn’t worry about things like this because they did donate, and our charity flourished because of it. Maybe I was too jaded and tired of masks.
“Excuse me,” I spoke into the microphone, trying to get everyone’s attention. “If you will take your seats, I have a few things to say and then…and then…” As my eyes wandered the crowd, my gaze locked on someone, and the speech I’d memorized and spent…actually, no time writing, disappeared, flying away on an invisible breeze. He stood in the shadows, but he wasn’t wholly cloaked. Tall with broad shoulders, he towered over the woman who stood next to him. His dark hair and all-black tuxedo made him appear dangerous and seductive, and his smile drew my attention to full lips that I could easily imagine kissing. Something about him seemed familiar.
“Max,” Fizz snapped as he threw something at me. When I peered down briefly, I found a piece of candy by my shoe.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to look away from the stranger and at something or someone else. Anything would do. “Right. Sorry about that. I want to thank all of you for coming. The Sky’s The Limit was started by my grandfather fifty years ago. It has worked with teachers and doctors to create programs to help people of all ages all over the world to learn to read. In addition, it helps supplement the cost of the programs that can be found in schools and libraries. Without your help and donations, we would not be as successful as we are. Thank you for your patronage, your donations, and for supporting a worthy cause.” I raised my hand during the applause, and the waitstaff moved together, delivering the first course. “Dinner is served. Bon Appetit.”
Stepping off the stage, I tried to move in the direction of the stranger I’d spotted, but a crowd had formed near the podium, preventing my escape. It also made it easier for Fizz to catch me and escort me to my table. Damn the man.
“Is something wrong, Max?” my mother asked when I sat at the table next to her.
“Not at all,” I rushed to assure her. I should have known my slip up would not be forgotten. “I’m a little tired, and Fizz and I were a little late tonight. So, I’m sure it’s that.”
“This week does get a little hectic for you.” She shook her head, a frown marring her beautiful face.
I squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. Af
ter tonight, I am taking a couple of days off to rest. We don’t have to do this for another year.”
That tingling sensation zoomed through my body again, and I looked up. There he was. The stranger I’d seen from the podium, and I remembered him from somewhere else. The man I saw on the street. He was taller than I initially believed and had a neatly trimmed goatee, the same color as his hair and tuxedo: black. Ignoring him and the way my heart pounded for the moment, I stood up to greet the shorter woman at his side. “Thank you for joining us, Mrs. Jeffries. My parents told me you had accepted our invitation this year.” I kissed her hand, pushing away the slightly uneasy feeling I always got around her.
“Thank you, Max. I thought my nephew might like to attend. He’s visiting me from England. Lorde, this is Max. Max, my nephew, Lorde,” she introduced the stranger to me.
Lorde. His name rolled around in my head, and I tasted it on my tongue, rolling it around silently. My mouth was suddenly dry. I couldn’t pretend he wasn’t there any longer, but I couldn’t remember what words were and stood there like an idiot staring at the mystery man. He enchanted me. The feel of someone pressing their heel to my foot had me blurting, “It’s nice to meet you. How long have you been visiting?” Well, apparently, I could talk when needed.
“A week. My parents thought I should visit my aunt since we hadn’t seen each other in years.” He grinned, and I swallowed hard.
“Max, Lorde, sit down,” my mother ordered. I had the sneaky suspicion she had been the one to step on my foot since she was closest to me.
Nodding, I smiled down at her and realized Pat Jeffries had taken my seat, leaving me to sit next to her nephew. “Uh…”
“Well, since you are only a few years older than Lorde, I thought you two might have more to talk about than anything you might have to say to the old biddies at the table.” Pat smiled sweetly, and I realized at that moment, my mother might not be playing matchmaker, but this woman definitely was, despite the fact, she barely knew me.
“Please, sit.” Lorde indicated the seat next to him and sat down next to Mrs. Harris.
I felt hot and had to fight the urge to rip off my bowtie and pull at my collar. “Thank you,” I mumbled. This man had the ability to make me forget something I had memorized backward and forward, with one look, and my body had never reacted like this to anyone. Now, everyone at the table expected me to sit next to him, eat a meal, and carry on a conversation? I just prayed I didn’t choke and make an ass of myself. There was something about him that called out to me, something familiar. It was more than seeing him on the street, more than meeting him here or staring at him in the audience.
“How are you enjoying your visit so far?” I asked and took a bite of the salad in an attempt to shake it all off, figuring it might be my best course of action. If I stuck to polite conversation and stuffed my mouth with food, rendering it nearly impossible to speak, I might get through this dinner without doing something completely asinine.
“It’s been lovely, although I confess, I haven’t done much. I went down to the lake and strolled around the city a bit, but not much else. It’s changed since I lived here,” he replied and took a much smaller bite of his own salad.
Maybe it was instinctual, or maybe it was because I’d experienced that particular expression my whole life, but I felt someone glaring at me. My mother. Silently, she chastised me on my table manners. It was not how she raised me. I wasn’t acting rude per se, but scarfing the meal wasn’t precisely behavior befitting high society.
I gulped down the bite of salad, hiding the wince of pain from the too big bite and refused to acknowledge her or her quiet scolding. “You used to live here?” I asked Lorde instead.
“Yes, we moved during the middle of my fifth-grade year. My dad received a transfer to the London office. It didn’t bother me. I hated the schools here,” he answered.
“Were the schools in England better?”
“I don’t know about all of England, but the school I went to in London was fine. I played football and had a lot of mates.” The word mate had irritation swelling in my gut, but I couldn’t comprehend why that would be.
“Football as in soccer or as in rugby?”
He laughed, the sound rich and deep. I liked it. “Rugby is not football. Well, I guess it’s like your football here in the States, sort of. It has a lot more men and is a bit rougher. For me, I mean soccer. Real football. I find it interesting that you didn’t ask if I played American Football.”
What was it about this man? I’d never reacted to someone this quickly before, but more than that, it was the way I responded to him that confused me. With one look, I wanted to kiss him. Listening to the deep timbre of his voice, I imagined taking him to my bed.
I forced myself to focus. “Why do you say that?” I chuckled.
“Well, a few NFL games have been played across the pond, and while it might not be as popular as football, there are some teams, which have popped up around the U.K.”
“No offense, but when I think of football like the Eagles or the Titans, I can’t picture England.” We both laughed, and it felt good.
The second course was served, and the conversation between us became easier, or it might have been the wine I was drinking with my meal. I wasn’t a lightweight by any means, but I think I’d already downed three glasses, not to mention what I drank earlier in the evening before we left the house and when we arrived. I needed to stop, or I was going to make a fool of myself not only in front of Lorde but in front of everyone here.
“How old are you?” I questioned as I cut into my roast beef.
“Twenty-nine. You?”
“Thirty-two. Although if you talk to my mother, I’m an old man.” I spoke loud enough for her to hear, and she didn’t disappoint. If anything, she had me second-guessing my decision to bring her into the conversation.
“All you do is work, work, work. No social life at all.” Her voice dropped slightly, and I got the impression she was talking to someone else and not me. “I keep telling him he needs to find a good man to settle down with, but he’s too picky, and if the guy does meet his high standards, he has some other godawful excuse.”
My plan to shift some of Lorde’s focus off of me was quickly backfiring. “When I meet him, I’ll know,” I said, but she paid me no mind. She and Pat had their heads close together as if they were coming up with some devious plan.
The words I’d spoken hung in the air, gnawing at me. Why? Was it Lorde? No. The man lived in another country, and I knew nothing about him.
Pat’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “I know what you mean. I said the same thing to Lorde, but he keeps blowing me off. They are both good looking, you would think finding men they were interested in would be easy, but nope. And they don’t want to listen to anything we have to say,” she stated louder than necessary, and everyone at the table, with the exception of Lorde and me, nodded in agreement.
I rolled my eyes and clenched my jaw, chastising myself. I should have kept my big mouth shut. We’d both been outed at a fancy gala during dinner conversation. This night was going to shit rather quickly.
“Family,” Lorde snorted.
“Yeah,” I agreed, uneasily, fighting a level of embarrassment I’d never experienced before. The bad thing was, I’d brought it upon myself.
It was weird. Most of the time, I erected a wall between myself and every other person on the planet with the exclusion of a couple of people. Fizz, my parents, and Gina were the only ones I opened the door for, and they were only allowed so far in before they faced another wall. No one had ever scaled that one. It was tall, without a door or stairs. Impossible to breech.
I’d boxed myself in, terrified of being hurt or disappointed, not wanting anyone to see my truth. With strangers, I was polite and conversed easily with them, holding myself back, never becoming invested in the other person. Lorde was different. I still had all of my walls in place, still shielded myself, but he was banging against a side door I d
idn’t know existed. I never brought up marriage, nor did I ever bring my mother into my conversations unless I needed her to take over so I could move on to another person.
I blamed his eyes. They were dark blue, whereas mine were a light blue, and his looked as if something swirled in their depths.
“Do you have any big plans while you’re visiting?” I asked.
Lorde shook his head. “Not really. My aunt mentioned something about going sailing, but I think she might be mental. It’s too cold.”
Nodding, I snickered and agreed, “Yeah. Maybe in the summer. How long are you going to be here?”
“I’m not certain. I have some business to take care of before I can leave.” His smile seemed strained and sad, but I was positive, I had misinterpreted it.
A tap on my shoulder demanded my attention, and I found Fizz standing over me. Bending down, he whispered, “Dessert and coffee are about to be served.”
I wiped my mouth and dropped my napkin onto the table. “If you will excuse me.” I stood up and had to steady myself by using the table because I felt a little lightheaded.
“Max, you okay?” Fizz asked quietly.
“I think I got up too fast. I’ll be fine,” I reassured him, not wanting to admit I had probably drunk too much.
“Are you certain?” Lorde’s voice buzzed in my ear, and I had to close my eyes and bite down on my lip to stop myself from moaning. What the hell was it about this man?
Lorde
I fought my attraction to Max all night. After we arrived, Aunt Pat wanted to look around and take in the various exhibits, only returning to the party when Max stepped up to the podium. The moment he looked at me, our gazes locking together, I couldn’t breathe. I’d known he was handsome, and his eyes had haunted me since I first saw them in my vision, but I wasn’t expecting the connection. Something inside screamed at me to run, to forget everything about destiny, plans, and revenge.
