Chapter 11
Max
Phone. My phone was ringing.
The sound cut right through to my brain and danced around, bouncing off the walls inside of my skull like a kid having a temper tantrum. I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes as I yawned and came to.
I was in the penthouse suite of The Vex—alone.
The sheets were silky soft and warm and I didn’t want to leave them. But my phone was in the pocket of my pants on the chair across the room.
Grumbling, I managed to untangle myself from the sheets and lurch across the room in time to answer the call. It was my sister. “Catherine?” I asked thickly as I held the phone up to my ear. “Hey. What time is it?”
“Ten o’clock.”
“Good grief. I feel like I got hit by a fucking train.”
“Where are you right now?”
I rubbed at my eyes, trying to hurry the process of adjusting to the stark bright sunlight filling up the room. Every piece of furniture was white, and so were the sheets, so the glare shone brilliantly in all directions. “I’m—I’m at The Vex.” I cleared my throat. Fuck. What time had I left the event last night? Two, three in the morning? Maybe later.
Memories of drinking with Beveridge at the bar started slamming into me.
Right. Beveridge. The man could handle his liquor like nobody I’d ever seen, and by the end of the evening he had us sipping whiskey on the rocks.
“Are you hung over, Max?”
“What? No. Well, maybe a little.”
Catherine sighed heavily into the phone. I knew that sound. It pricked my ears and I managed to open my eyes despite the glare. I straightened up and my awareness of my pounding head and aching back slipped away as concern filled me to the brim. “Wait. Why are you calling me? Have I forgotten something?”
“It’s Sunday,” she said. Her voice was flat and monotonous.
“Oh shit,” I breathed. “Cat, I’m so sorry. It slipped my mind and I forgot to set an alarm last night. I’m on my way. I’m just around the corner. Order without me.”
“We did.”
“Fuck. Sorry,” I said, and then hanging up the phone, I scrambled to get dressed.
In the bathroom I splashed my face with cold water and brushed my teeth with the toothbrush they supplied. I sloshed mouthwash around in my mouth while rolling deodorant on, and then I slid into my shoes, raked my wet fingers through my hair, plucked my jacket from where it was draped over the back of a chair, and hurried out into the hall to catch the elevator down to the first floor. From there I had to rush across the marble lobby to get to the elevators that would go down to the underground parking.
Passing the banquet hall on my way, I slowed to peer inside. All evidence of the fundraiser last night was gone and it looked like they were setting up for a business meeting of some sort. I carried on, got in the elevator, and made it down to my car in less than three minutes.
I glanced at the watch on my wrist. I’d slept with it on and it had left little imprints in my skin. It was quarter after ten. I was supposed to be at the diner at nine-thirty to meet Catherine and Hayden.
The three of us had been going to Bob’s All Day Diner since I was in college. Back when I was young and dumb and poor, I’d wake up after a Saturday night of partying on campus and drive to the house to pick up my sister and stepbrother. They’d pile in the back of my first car—a dark green and very fuel efficient Honda Civic—and we’d head off to gorge ourselves on the unlimited pancakes.
We upheld the tradition even after I dropped out. Though we fell off the bandwagon after my mother died, Catherine had managed to get us back on schedule within six months. I knew it was something they both looked forward to. We had trimmed it down to every second Sunday since we all had busy lives now, but sometimes even that felt like too much to me.
Like today, for example.
I would have much rather nursed my hangover privately, rather than meeting Catherine and Hayden who were no doubt going to harass me for looking so rough. I deserved it. I was going to show up in the same clothes I’d worn to the fundraiser—black pants, white button up, black dress shoes. My hair was a thick mess atop my head and I needed a shave. Or at least a bit of shaping—something to tame it all so people might take me seriously as a professional.
I arrived at the diner at ten thirty, exactly one hour late. I was lucky to score a parking spot, and I was already opening the gull wing doors as I shifted into park. I crossed the pavement quickly and hurried up the three steps to the red front door.
As soon as I walked in I was hit with the smell of buttermilk pancakes and Canadian maple syrup. My hangover was apparently not too terrible, because my stomach growled and my mouth started to water. I kept my coat on as I crossed the black and white tiled floor to the booth my siblings had obtained near a back window.
I slid in beside Catherine, who scooted over and passed her purse to Hayden to put on the open spot beside him.
“Morning,” I said, shrugging out of my jacket and hanging it on the hook behind my seat. “Sorry guys. I didn’t mean to be late. I was at a fundraiser event last night and the morning got away from me.”
“Did you spend the evening with a girl whose name you’ve already forgotten?” Catherine asked, as she tore the top off a creamer. She poured half of it into her coffee, stirred it up, and wrapped her hands around the white ceramic mug.
“No, I did not. Not that it’s any of your business, by the way.”
“Too drunk to get it up?” Hayden chuckled.
I rolled my eyes. “Did you guys order yet?”
“No, we waited for you,” Catherine said.
“I told you to order.”
She shrugged. “Well, we didn’t. We had no idea how long you’d be.”
Our waitress came to the table, a young mousy haired girl with the biggest brown eyes I’d ever seen. We gave her our orders, which she scribbled in a notebook she’d unhooked from her apron. Once she was done she collected our menus and promised to come back to fill my coffee mug.
She kept her promise, thank God. Within two minutes I had a piping hot cup of coffee in front of me. I took a sip, scalded my tongue, and slid it away from me in case I was tempted to do it again. I had a bad habit of burning my tongue more than once on the same drink.
“So, what was this fundraiser for?” Hayden asked, as we waited for our food.
“Homeless children and teens, actually.”
Hayden and Catherine shared a look. My stepbrother nodded at me. “That sounds like a different pace than your usual scene.”
“What’s my usual scene, Hayden?” I asked. It was almost a dare.
Hayden shrugged. “Don’t know. Not fundraisers for homeless kids.”
“Fair enough,” I grumbled sourly.
“Apparently you had a good time, based on the hangover and your look,” Catherine said, nodding at all of me. “Last night’s clothes, I presume?”
“Nothing gets past you, Catherine,” I said.
Catherine shifted in her seat and the red plastic creaked beneath her. “Don’t be an ass. I was just saying. You’re the one who showed up like this.”
I sighed. “It was a good time. Sort of. A bit of a blast from the past.
“What do you mean?” Hayden asked.
I looked up at him. “The fundraiser turned out to be for Laura’s foundation.”
Hayden’s eyes widened and Catherine leaned forward to peer up into my face. She let out a surprised laugh and exclaimed, “Laura Wessex?”
“The one and only,” I nodded, reaching for my coffee. I took a sip and burned myself again. “Fucking hell.”
Catherine took my coffee away and pulled it to her side of the table. “How was she? Did you talk to her or hide in the corner and get shitfaced? Oh man, what I would have given to be a fly on the wall in that room.”
“Likewise,” Hayden sniggered. He nudged my shin with the toe of his boot under the table. “Spill the beans, Max. How is she doin
g?”
“Good.”
“That’s it?” he asked. “That’s all you’re going to give us?”
“Well,” I said, leaning back in the booth and eyeing my coffee mug on the other side of the table. It was calling my name, beckoning to me with its richness. Catherine pushed it a couple more inches away and I forced myself to forget about it for now. “I didn’t know it was her foundation when I showed up at the fundraiser. Turns out I donated the biggest sum, so after her speech she called me up on stage not knowing it was from me, since it was in the company name.”
“Poor girl,” my sister breathed.
“Poor girl nothing. I gave her a lot of fucking money.”
Catherine rested her chin in her hand. “She still had to deal with the shock of seeing you for the first time in a decade in front of who knows how many people. Snobby rich people at that.”
I gave them both a rundown of going up on stage and saying my piece. Catherine scolded me for being an ass and intentionally trying to embarrass Laura in front of the crowd. I hadn’t been intentionally trying to do anything, but seeing that my sister had the same reaction to my ‘I’m used to getting this reaction from women’ comment, I realized it might not have come off the way I thought it might—which made me wonder what I’d intended in the first place. It had been a shitty thing to say.
I also told them about following her backstage and talking her into having a drink with me, and that we’d caught up a bit and shared how well things were going for each of us.
“So, how did you screw it up, then?” Catherine asked, when I told them Laura had been willing to indulge me in a second drink despite her insisting we would only have one.
I ran my fingers through my messy hair, thick with product from last night. I was eager to go home and shower. “I invited her up to my penthouse suite on the top floor of The Vex.”
“You sly dog,” Hayden chuckled.
“Dumbass,” Catherine said, shaking her head.
I frowned and looked back and forth between them. “What did I do wrong?”
“You were having a business conversation,” Catherine said, like that in itself was an answer.
When I stared blankly at her she threw her arms in the air. Then she slid my coffee over, deeming it cool enough to drink without burning myself. It was. I took a sip as she said, “Max, seriously. The two of you were talking about a business arrangement for the kids she works with. She probably let her guard down and let herself think that she didn’t have to worry about you being a horn dog. And then you went and spoiled it.”
Confused, I looked to Hayden for support. “Does she have a point?”
Hayden chewed the inside of his cheek. “I think it would be foolish to say she doesn’t.”
“Quite foolish,” Catherine said matter-of-factly. “Laura is a businesswoman now. Look at the event she pulled off last night—and you said it was her fifth year? She’s not a novice anymore. The minute you bring up sex, you’ve kicked the foundation out from under the business discussion you’ve just had, leaving her to assume it was all a setup for sex. I’d be pissed if I were her, too. You owe her an apology.”
“Max? Apologize?” Hayden sounded skeptical. “What would that even sound like?”
“Well, ‘I’m sorry for being a dick,’ would be a good start,” Catherine said, silencing our stepbrother.
I sighed. “I hate when you’re right, Cat.”
My sister sat up straighter and grinned at me. “Remember what I said on Friday? I’m the wise sibling. The sooner you accept that I’m always right, the better things will go for you. And quit calling me Cat. You know I don’t like it.”
“My bad.”
Hayden snorted. “See? He can’t say ‘I’m sorry,’ not even with something simple. He’s incapable. Good luck, Max. Laura is going to eat you for breakfast.”
Chapter 12
Laura
I arrived on the top floor of the massive and luxurious office tower at ten to nine. The elevator spat me out and I crossed the lobby to a set of double glass doors that read ‘Nova Corp.’ Pushing my way inside, I found a young woman sitting at a sprawling cherry oak desk. She looked up at me, smiled, and told me her name was Casey.
“Hi Casey. I’m Laura. I’m supposed to meet Max here at nine o’clock.”
“Alright. I’ll let him know you’re here as soon as he arrives.”
“He’s not here yet?”
Casey shook her head. “No. He usually doesn’t show until nine on the dot. The perks of owning your own business.”
I didn’t say anything about how I was usually the first one in the door and the last one out at my office. Apparently we were on opposite ends of the work ethic scale. I sighed and looked around. “Alright. I don’t mind waiting.”
“We have a comfortable waiting room. Follow me,” Casey said, as she stepped out from behind her desk.
I followed her down a long hallway. It was lined with spectacular pieces of art. Doors opened up into private offices on the exterior side of the building, so each person with an office had a wall of windows and a good view of the city. A beautiful view, actually.
This company was bigger than I thought. It must have employed at least a hundred people on just this floor alone. I had no idea what scale his company operated on and how many other offices Max had.
Casey showed me to a lavish waiting room. The walls were a soothing taupe and a running water feature sat against one wall. To the right of it was a coffee bar hosting three different kinds of machines—coffee press, Keurig, and an espresso machine.
A full blown, I shit you not, espresso machine.
“Can I interest you in a coffee?” Casey offered, walking over to the coffee bar.
“Uh,” I stammered.
She smiled, “Espresso it is. Latte? Mocha? Cappuccino? I can make it all.”
“Erm.”
Casey opened the bar fridge built into the coffee bar and pulled out a jug of milk and a silver canister. Whipped cream. She waggled it. “How about I make you something special? Any allergies I should know about?”
“No,” I said.
“Perfect. You get comfortable. This will just take a minute.”
How accommodating. How luxurious. How completely bizarre.
I admired the room and took a seat in a mossy green colored armchair. It hugged me tight and I settled into it. All that was missing was a blanket to drape over my legs. But that might have been overkill.
I caught whiffs of citrus and cinnamon as I waited for my coffee. Candles burning on a couple surfaces sent warm scents throughout the office. This place was like a home away from home.
The five kids I had in mind for the internship positions were going to love it here.
Casey finished up the coffee with a swirl of whipped cream on top. She brought it over and handed it to me. There was even a sprinkle of cinnamon. “I hope you like it, but please, let me know if it’s not your thing and I’ll make you something else.”
“I’m sure it will be delicious,” I smiled. I took a sip and my mouth was filled with the flavor of Christmas. “Oh, my gosh, this is really good.”
Casey pressed her hands together and beamed at me. “I’m glad you like it! I’ve been playing with the recipe to perfect the perfect Christmas inspired latte. It has cinnamon and gingerbread in it.”
“Seriously. It’s yummy,” I said, as I licked whipped cream from my upper lip.
“Excellent. You enjoy and relax. I’ll be just down the hall if you need me and will send Max to you as soon as he arrives and gets settled.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I was left in peace. The waiting room felt more like the sort of place you would sit and wait before going in to get a full body massage. It did not give off business meeting vibes.
I suppose you could give off whatever vibes you wanted when you were worth billions of dollars.
“Don’t be bitter, Laura,” I told myself.
By the time I finished my
coffee Max had still not arrived and it was five after nine. The bitterness I had tried to ward off had settled in my chest and made a home there. How dare he make me wait? I knew five minutes wasn’t a huge amount of time, but we had agreed to meet at nine, and he hadn’t left things on the best foot the other night at the fundraiser.
He owed it to me to be here on time.
I tried to remind myself that he was doing me and the kids I was trying to help a huge favor. He was offering them something I never could dream of. I should be grateful, not spiteful and angry.
But my annoyance only grew until, at twenty-seven minutes after nine, Max rounded the corner of the waiting room. He drew up short when he saw me. “I’m late,” he said.
“An astute observation,” I said, getting to my feet.
“It was a busy morning and—”
“I don’t care why you were late, Max. Let’s just get on with it, shall we? The office is beautiful.”
His eyebrows drew together in confusion. If he thought I was going to be upset with him and give him a piece of my mind he was sorely mistaken. I only had time and energy to expend on people I wanted to help or change. Not people who were a lost cause.
Max nodded. “Alright. Come with me. I’ll show you around.”
I handed him my empty coffee mug. He stared at it as I walked around him out into the hall. “Which way?” I asked, pointing left and then right.
“Uh. Right,” he said, and then he put the empty coffee mug down on the bar beside the espresso machine, most likely for Casey to clean up. I internally rolled my eyes and started off down the hallway to the right.
Max walked along behind me and told me about all the offices. He showed me the common areas, like the kitchen, or the open office, where there were fifty cubicles. He showed me the five vacant ones and said this is where the kids would end up if their internships went well.
“What sort of work would you have them doing when they start?” I asked.
Max slid his hands into his pant pockets and shrugged. “Easy stuff to start. I think it’s important for new hires to get used to the vibes and the culture before they start taking on the real work. So, to start, I’d keep it simple. They could fill in where other employees need an extra pair of hands or set of eyes. I need proof readers for code. Someone to get coffee.”
Brand New Man Page 7
