I couldn’t deny that I wouldn’t mind having that Max back either. But life had weathered me, and Catherine was all I had. She was the brightest light in my life and knew it for the burden it was.
After she finished eating, more customers came into the cafe. I sat there and responded to work emails on my phone while she helped with their orders and began closing up shop. I wiped the tables down for her, never afraid to do a bit of real work for a change, as she cleaned the espresso machine and prepped all the products for the opening shift.
When she was done she hung up her apron, ushered out the hazelnut latte customer who was still content in his little corner of the cafe, and flicked off the lights. I waited for her out on the sidewalk as she locked everything up. Then we got in my car and I drove her back to her apartment.
I hated that Catherine lived on her own. I also hated that she only had a one bedroom apartment. She made do with the money our mother had left us and her paychecks from the cafe. She was a financially wise soul and I knew she would be able to take care of herself, but it didn’t stop me from wishing she’d let me put her up in a nicer place in a safer area.
But she insisted she was happy here. Alone.
It made no sense to me.
Especially because when I got home later that night and stood in the middle of my empty penthouse I found myself wondering how feeling so alone could be a choice someone would make willingly.
Chapter 6
Laura
Standing backstage was, quite possibly, the most nerve wracking part of the whole evening. My palms were sweating but since the skirt of my gown was chiffon, I didn’t dare touch the material. It flowed around my ankles, dotted with tiny shimmering crystals, as I moved to pull back a corner of the silver curtain to peer out at the round tables below.
There were nearly a hundred people there already and we still had half an hour to go before the doors closed and the event started. The tables seated ten people each. White tablecloths matched white seat covers, and the tall centerpieces were crystal filled vases with a white winter tree branch protruding from the middle. The branch fanned out over the table about a foot and a half over everyone’s heads, and little crystals dangled, catching beams of light and sparkling radiantly.
Accents of silver, turquoise, and deep blue littered the venue, which was the banquet room of one of the poshest hotels in LA. The decor had turned out beautifully, especially the ice sculptures and the crystal snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. Unfortunately the people who attended expected and desired a lavish affair. So, in order to get them to open their checkbooks I had to spend a bit of money to make sure I exceeded their expectations.
It was something I’d learned in my first year of hosting this fundraiser.
Feeling a tap on my shoulder, I let the curtain fall and turned around to find Ella smiling at me. She looked stunning. Her makeup was simple, wih dark liner and plum lips. It went well with her elegant black velvet gown. Rhinestones hugged her throat and winked in her ears.
“How’s it looking out there?” Ella asked.
I tried to look and sound as confident as possible. “It looks good. A lot of people are already here, and the bar looked busy.”
“Good. The more liquored up they get, the more generous they’ll be.”
“I was thinking the same thing. That’s why I asked the bartenders to pour doubles unless otherwise instructed.”
“Smart,” Ella said, tapping the side of her head with her index finger. “How are you feeling about your speech? Did you want to run through it one more time?”
I rubbed my hands together. I might have been mistaken, but I could have sworn it was getting louder on the other side of the curtain by the second as more people arrived. “Umm. Sure. Yes. Let’s do that.”
Ella took my hand and led me across the stage. Other people, mostly volunteers in black suits, were hurrying back and forth, making sure everything was in order. I followed my friend down a set of stairs and out into a hallway, where we took a right turn into the first room, where sofas and chairs were set up. There was a mini fridge stocked full of snacks and drinks for volunteers and coordinators. I helped myself to a bottle of water before pulling my cue cards out of my little silver clutch. I cleared my throat before starting to speak and Ella took a seat on one of the sofas.
She was a good audience. Always had been.
When I finished Ella stood up. “I think that was your best run through yet. Seriously, it’s great, Laura. Really great.”
“I’m not missing anything important?”
“Important? Like what? You thank everyone you had to thank, you discuss what their donations will contribute to, and you speak about your five year plan for a children’s home. There’s nothing missing.”
“I feel like there is.”
Ella frowned and tapped her chin with her forefinger. “Well, since it’s the first of December you could always wish them all a Merry Christmas at the end?”
A light bulb went off. “Yes! That’s exactly what it is. Thank you Ella.”
Ella gave me a nonchalant shrug. “Oh you know, just me doing me, girl.”
“Do we have time to run through it one more time?”
Ella fell back into her seat, crossed one leg over the other, and adjusted the cap sleeves of her velvet dress. “You have the floor.”
I went through my speech one final time. When I ended with ‘To express my sincerest gratitude for all of your generosity this year, I would like to take this moment to wish you all a Merry Christmas.’ Ella leaned back and clapped her hands together.
“I love it,” she said. “It’s the perfect note to end on.”
“Excellent.”
We were discussing how well the venue had turned out when there was a knock on the door. We both turned to see a young man in a black suit enter the room. His blond hair was slicked back, showing off his rather large but quite endearing ears. He was a little out of breath when he handed me a black box with an envelope slit on the top. “The doors are closed, Ms. Wessex. These are all the checks written by the attendees.”
“Was there a tally taken?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No ma’am. We didn’t think you’d want your guests to see us scribbling down the total of their donations on the side.”
“Good call. Thank you for bringing this to me.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome.”
He slipped away and I turned to Ella. We both looked down at the box in my hands and then back up at each other.
“How long before I have to speak?” I asked.
Ella glanced at the wall on the clock. “Ten minutes.”
“Do you think we can total it all that quickly?”
Ella hesitated, but only for a second. Then she lifted the lid off the box and we set it down on one of the tables in the room. She took half the checks out of the box and so did I. We both sat down and started counting.
When I finished my mind was reeling. “My stack totals just shy of three million.”
“Three point five on my end,” Ella beamed.
“Holy fuck,” I said. Then I clamped my hands over my mouth. My eyes widened. A lump formed in my throat. “Six. Million. Dollars.”
Ella squealed. I leapt from my chair and threw my arms around her and we jumped up and down in place out of sheer excitement. Tears tickled from the corners of my eyes and threatened to escape.
Ella held me at arm’s length by my shoulders. “This is insane!”
“I-I know.”
“Like, insane!”
“I know!”
“Don’t cry. You’ll mess up your makeup if you cry and it took me forever to get your eyeliner like that,” she warned.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I tried to get my tears under control. “I don’t know if I can stop myself.”
“Well, please do.”
I closed my eyes and took a long, deep, steadying breath. I waited until the lump in my throat reduced in size, then opened my eyes
again. I nodded at Ella. “Alright. I’m okay.”
Ella let go of my shoulders and went about collecting the checks into a neat pile. There was a rubber band at the bottom of the box that I’d put there earlier to contain all the loose checks. She reached for it and paused. Then she pressed her hand to the side of the box, where a folded check had gotten caught. She kept it folded but lifted it up to me. “There’s another one.”
“Open it.”
Ella peeled one of the corners apart from the other. She opened the check like a book. At first, she didn’t react. Her eyes slid across the piece of paper, and then she sucked in a sharp breath, let out a startled laugh, and looked up at me. “Laura—”
“What is it?” I asked, snatching it out of her hands.
I peered down at the check. The number I found myself reading didn’t compute in my brain. Too many zeroes. It didn’t make sense. Was that even a number?
Ella laughed again. “That’s ten million dollars, Laura.”
“Holy fuck,” I said again—and I wasn’t normally one to curse.
“Yeah. Holy fucking fuck.”
“This has to be a mistake,” I said, looking harder at the check. Was the decimal in the wrong place? “It has to be. Nobody just gives ten—” I couldn’t even say the word. “Nobody donates this sort of money,” I said, waving the check around.
“Well, apparently somebody did.”
“But—”
“No buts, remember?”
I pressed my hand to my forehead. “I think I’m going to pass out.”
“Sit down,” Ella said, taking me by the elbow and guiding me over to a chair. I sat down and she sat across from me. We were both breathing heavily, despite having done nothing that required exertion. We lifted our gazes and stared at each other for a minute. Ella spoke first. “I think you need to change the end of your speech again.”
“Yeah. I think so.”
“What company is on the check?” Ella asked, as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
I looked back down at the paper in my hands. “Nova Corp.”
“Sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”
“Right? Well, we can figure that out later. I need to add a big thank you to this person. Whoever they are.”
Ella grinned. “Maybe it’s your Romeo.”
“Shut up.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Well. You have four minutes before you go on stage. That gives you just enough time to tweak your speech while I fix your makeup.”
“Is it ruined?”
She shook her head. “No. But you have some smudging happening, and I can fix that right up for you. We want you to put your best foot forward out there. And face.”
“My best face?” I laughed.
She nodded. “Yeah. You know. Just in case this big time donor happens to be a really good looking guy on the prowl for a pretty girl with a heart of gold. Crazier things have happened.”
“Well, if he’s a guy in that crowd, chances are he’s done some shitty things to get this kind of money.”
“Perhaps. Now it’s our job to make sure it gets used to do good things.”
The emcee cleared his throat into the microphone upstage. In the back room his voice sounded muffled and tinny, but I could make out the words he said. “Ladies and gentlemen. If you would please take your seats. The evening is about to begin.”
“That’s my one minute mark,” I said.
Ella took both of my hands and squeezed tightly. “You’re going to knock it out of the park—just like you always do. And when your speech is done you’ll meet me backstage and I’ll be waiting for you with that shot. Sound good?”
I grinned. “Sounds great.”
Chapter 7
Max
The Vex Hotel was decked out to the nines for this fundraiser soiree direct from the hubs of hell.
Snowflakes hung from the ceiling in clusters of odd numbers—a decorating essential my mother had drilled into Catherine’s skull when we were growing up. If you ever had something in groups it had to be an uneven number, whether it was the number of pictures on the wall, flowers in a vase, or candles on the fireplace mantle.
Odd numbers only.
Whoever had made all the decisions in regards to decor for this event would have gotten along swimmingly with my mother.
The giant branches protruding from the centerpieces were impressive, sure, but incredibly inconvenient. If you had a seat at the back of the room you couldn’t see the stage over the white branches.
I, of course, had a pretty good seat near the front of the stage. I had made a pass of the room already to find my seat and left my jacket draped over the back of my chair. Upon wandering about, a waiter found me and offered me a winter cocktail—the evening’s special, apparently. It was served in a champagne flute and hosted a sprig of pine and free floating cranberries, earning an eye roll that I should have endeavored to keep internal and thus hidden from view. But, I didn’t. I suspected the actual substance of the drink—the booze—was champagne, mixed with Sprite, and a bit of ginger.
I especially hated that it was delicious, unable to recall a time I’d wanted to hate a drink more.
Sipping it, I walked around and made nice with familiar faces in the room. I recognized a couple who had purchased my software last year at a Software as a Service (SAAS) conference. They ran a pretty big company that moved antiques all over the globe and they needed software that would protect themselves as well as their very wealthy clients. I led the pitch and within forty-five minutes of meeting them had obtained their signatures and worked out a deal.
It was easy when you had the best programs in the country.
Mr. and Mrs. Galloway saw me coming. Mr. Galloway, or Steven, as he insisted I call him, greeted me with an open arm and a polite raise of his champagne flute. “Max Miller. I didn’t expect to see a man of your caliber at an event like this. What a pleasure it is to see you again.”
I shook his hand. “Mr. Galloway, the pleasure is all mine. Mrs. Galloway, hello.”
“Please. Call me Steven.”
“And Maureen,” his wife said, holding out her hand for a dainty shake. Rubies and emeralds weighed her fingers down, and a very expensive gold diamond bracelet glittered on her thin wrist.
“How did you hear of this event?” Mr. Galloway inquired, with a sophisticated tilt of his head. The collar of his pristine white shirt burrowed into his throat, evidence of the extra thirty pounds he carried.
“My assistant told me about it, actually. She said it was a good cause and worth my time. So, here I am.”
“Your assistant?” Mrs. Galloway asked, tipping her head in a similar fashion to that of her husband.
I adjusted the collar of my shirt and wished I could just undo the top button. “Yes. She’s quite savvy when it comes to things like this. I typically have my head buried in the sand as you well know.”
“A busy man must,” Mr. Galloway said.
“I knew you’d understand, sir.”
“Please, call me Steven.”
It was a fun little game to see how many times he would ask me to call him by his first name before he threw in the towel. “Sorry, sir,” I said. “So, when does this thing get underway? And when do they bring out the real drinks?”
Mr. Galloway chuckled as his wife waved at another couple passing us by. “Shortly, Max. Don’t worry. Once the speaker opens the floor and says her piece, the alcohol begins to flow. I’ll be curious to see how much she managed to scrape together this year.”
“How much did they earn last year?” I asked.
“Just shy of five million,” Mr. Galloway said.
I felt my eyebrows creep up my forehead and did my best to rearrange my expression. I cleared my throat. “Well, I can say with a fair amount of confidence that she should expect to make more than that this year.”
“Fairly confident, you say?” Mr. Galloway winked.
I chuckled and finished off my disapp
ointingly delicious cocktail. A waiter passed with an empty tray and I sat the empty glass on top. He never slowed down or even broke his stride. “Well, I’ve got a lot more hands to shake, so I should go. I’m sure I’ll bump into you later on. Don’t forget to take this beautiful wife of yours out onto the dance floor, Mr. Galloway. A woman only wears a dress like that for dancing.”
Mrs. Galloway blushed and waved me off, while Mr. Galloway, in his typical fashion, mumbled, “Steven,” under his breath as I walked away.
It quickly became evident that most people in the room knew who I was—especially the women. I did my best to avoid making eye contact as various women, arms draped over their husband’s, made eyes at me.
Despite what most people might think, being a man with a lot of money comes with downfalls. Like the wives of other men swooning over you any time you got within a twenty foot radius.
I was leaning against the bar waiting for my rum and coke, when a woman in a sleek red dress sauntered over, ran her hand up the back of my arm and nudged my hip with her own. “Max Miller. Fancy running into you here. It’s been awhile.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I studied her. Long curly brown hair. Green eyes. The fullest lips I’d ever seen, and cleavage I could get lost in. “Emily,” I smiled.
“So, you do remember me?”
“Of course I remember you.”
She arched a perfectly tweezed brown eyebrow and pouted her lips. “But you never called.”
No. No I did not.
Emily reached out with red painted fingernails to pinch the sleeve of my white shirt. She rolled it between her fingers as she ran her tongue along her bottom lip. “Are you here alone this evening, Max?”
I caved and popped the highest button on my collar, and then worked my tie a little bit loose. I didn’t give a damn what any of these people thought of me. They all knew who I was. What I’d done for security. Hell, they all probably wished they had a guy like me in their back pocket. “I am,” I told her.
Brand New Man Page 4
