“After work, I’m going to buy a bottle of champagne! I wanna hear how this happened.” She grimaced. “But no details, please. After all, he is my baby brother.”
I held up my finger. “Now you understand.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “What?”
“Why it’s taken me so long to work this out.”
“Not really. I was always the other half of your brain, but Max is the other half of your heart.”
She’d been right all along. I should have listened. “But he’s leaving.”
“And? Surely you can convince him to stay. He belongs here with you.”
Her words had the opposite effect than she intended. Make sure Max stayed? How would I be any better than Peter if I couldn’t let Max go?
“Or you could work around it. He could commute with me. It’s not like he’ll disappear forever if he steps out of the town.”
I burst out laughing. So practical. All of Layla’s relationships were by definition long distance. Even if Max picked up and moved, he wouldn’t be that far away. We’d still see each other. It sounded wise and practical. But now that I knew how I felt, I didn’t want to wait. I wanted everything, and I wanted it now.
Chapter 28
Before heading to the shop, I opened Twitter and sent out a handful of promotional tweets and thank-yous in response to lovely congratulations from my editor. When my phone announced You’ve got mail! I experienced a thrill to find Silver Fox in my unread emails at last.
Claire—
I saw all the tweets about your book release today. How exciting! My one contribution to your big day is a revised review. I reread your book, and maybe I’m a bit biased now that I know you, but I think it definitely deserves more than three stars. After all, you ended up teaching me more about love and romance than I’d learned in my whole life. It’s thanks to you I took a risk.
So I’d flirted my way to four stars at least. I doubted that was the most efficient way to up my rating, but it left me beaming. When Max found out the truth, I’d expect no less than five stars.
That’s why it’s so hard to tell you I have to decline your invitation. I did want to meet you, but I think it’s better if we didn’t. I hope you can understand.
* * *
I didn’t. How else was I going to safely reveal this secret?
I’ve treated you like an extension of this girl, like an alternate, and that’s not fair to you or to her. I don’t know what you were anticipating, but I can’t do anything that might feel like a betrayal to her.
I imagined walking to his apartment to knock on his door and tell him I wasn’t an alternate, but I kept reading.
You pushed me to share my feelings, and doing so, I at least know better where I stand. Would you believe she says she loves me? That’s all I ever wanted to hear, and yet I’m more confused than ever. I’ve been burned twice now. Do I want to touch the sun again?
See, I’d made this huge decision to move on, but now she wants me to stay—with her. I’m torn between my mind and my heart. Am I letting fear stand in the way of what I truly want? Or am I being pragmatic? To be honest, I’m a heartbeat away from changing my mind, but I’m terrified of making a mistake.
What if I give up this opportunity and find myself right back where I was before?
I can hear you asking me why I don’t do both, chase the opportunity and the girl? That’s what I’m weighing. Honestly if I knew I could trust this new thing with her, nothing would drag me away. I love my life here. I just need a sign this is for real. There’s a fork in the road, and one path leads downhill toward promising vistas of paradise. I desperately want to believe it isn’t all a fleeting illusion.
Best wishes,
SF
I felt like a horrible, dirty, no-good rotten spy for having read all of that. Before, when I didn’t know Silver Fox was Max and that I was his Lizzie, there was nothing at all unethical about the things I got him to tell me. I hadn’t anticipated such an outpouring of his heart. I hated myself for driving him to the point where he had to choose between the happiness within reach and this grasping for a lifeline to stay afloat lest I should chuck him out to sea yet again. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to run screaming away from me.
How was I going to fix this? I had to tell him, even though he was going to be hella pissed at me for conning him into expressing his feelings, knowing it was him.
But would it convince him to stay?
Would it convince him I truly loved him?
I came up with a new scheme to reveal the truth in a way that would still exculpate me. With my book releasing, I’d trick him into giving away his identity and location to Claire, and then I’d spring a trap.
My plot was to mock up a flier announcing a book release event with one Claire Kincaid. Max would wonder how I’d managed to swing it, but since my book was in the shop already, I could tell him I’d discovered a local author. I’d pretend my phone had died and beg him to please write to inform her the event was canceled. He’d send the email, and it would come to my author email account, and I could say, Oh my goodness! You’re Silver Fox?
We’d laugh, and everything would fall back in place.
What could go wrong?
I knocked on wood quickly and swallowed back nerves, hoping I hadn’t just jinxed my plan.
I had to work fast. I printed up a fake flier announcing a book signing of The Shadow’s Apprentice. When I got to the bookstore, I taped it to the front of the cash register, next to Dylan’s and the other local-interest advertisements.
The contractors were scheduled to arrive at ten, and Max strolled in a few minutes early, looking like he’d slept poorly. I fought my urge to rush over and fling my arms around his neck. I couldn’t tell if he’d be receptive or if he was still in “resist Maddie” mode.
I didn’t have a moment to do damage control because the contractors arrived to survey the store. I looked at floor samples, pretending to understand the different grains and stains. I asked Max his opinion, and he pointed at one randomly. It worked for me. Once they had everything they needed from me, they swarmed around taking measurements, and I just wanted to get out of the way, so I huddled in the corner on the stool.
I picked up my phone to kill time and discovered an email from Peter. Or actually, it turned out to be a forwarded scanned letter from his attorney. Peter said, This will be arriving in your mail this week. I’m giving you a month to comply.
I opened the attachment, and my stomach dropped to my feet. He was demanding out of his partnership and suing me for his share of the money. In other words, he’d taken my threat and turned it against me. I’d have to assume the entire mortgage. I wasn’t sure he was legally allowed to walk away from a loan he’d cosigned, and I started laughing at the absurdity of it. Workmen were gearing up to start repairs on a place I wouldn’t be able to keep if Peter got his way. I couldn’t even fight him in court over it. I had nothing to fall back on.
Max emerged from the back room. “What’s so funny?”
At least Max had a plan to get out. I was about to lose him, the bookstore, and everything. Peter would win, but it would be a Pyrrhic victory. He’d finally force me to give up on everything I wanted, but he wouldn’t win me back.
What could I do?
The bookstore became a whirlwind of activity, taking measurements, signing long forms, setting a schedule. When the contractors left, it was time to put my plan into action.
“Hey,” I said. “I have a slight problem.”
“Yeah?”
“I forgot I had an author coming in later today. Do you think you could email her and tell her we need to cancel? My phone is dead. Otherwise I would.” I pointed at the flier, fighting a giggle. “I don’t want her to drive all this way for nothing.”
He walked over and looked at the flier. His eyes widened. “This author is coming here, today?”
“Right. Obviously we won’t be open.”
“How on earth did you—”
He huffed but put his phone a foot from his face and started typing. As soon as he hit send, my phone screamed You’ve got mail!, giving truth to my lie that the phone was dead.
I went for the Princess Bride humor. “It was mostly dead?”
He twisted his mouth and dropped his phone in his pocket. “You need to get over your aversion to technology. How did you even connect with that particular author anyway?”
“Uh.” I landed on an answer that had the benefit of being true. “Letitia knows her.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
Phew. “Yeah?” I moved around the counter to surreptitiously peek at my phone while he talked. “Why’s that?”
I dragged down the notifications. My heart sank as I encountered the first fly in my plan. Max had emailed from his personal, non-Silver-Fox account. Why had I stupidly assumed he would use his Silver Fox email account?
“Yeah. Would you believe I’ve read her book?”
I opened his email, not expecting much, so I wasn’t disappointed. It only explained that we’d need to postpone. Nothing further. Nothing revealing any connection to Silver Fox.
Absently, I asked, “What did you think?” My mind was spinning.
Maybe I could write back to claim that Claire didn’t get the email until she was already in town. I couldn’t figure out how that could be used to lure him into meeting her—me. But that would only compound the lies.
Max had stopped talking, and I blinked a few times to clear my imagination and see what was right in front of me.
He leaned against the counter. “Why did you ask me that if you weren’t even going to listen?”
“I was listening.” I went to my memories of comments from his review. “You liked the world-building aspects, but you thought the author didn’t handle the romance well.”
“That’s true.” He narrowed an eye. “But that’s not what I just said.”
Without looking away, he slid his phone from his pocket. He had to break his eye contact to type something, and I only realized what he was doing too late. We both heard You’ve got mail! at the same time.
That ringtone had seemed cheeky when I installed it. Now it was foiling my plot. I coughed, hoping to cover the traitorous tone, but Max ran his tongue over his teeth and typed again. “Wonder what will happen when I hit send this time.”
He whistled like a bomb as he dramatically let his finger fall toward his phone. “Boom!”
You’ve got mail!
His eyes went wide. “All that time? Claire Kincaid?” He staggered back a step, a cloud of confusion crossing his features as he processed the same revelations I already had. I held my breath, waiting for him to laugh or cry. “That was you?”
The room fell dead silent as it became apparent Max was waiting for me to say something. He crossed his arms, patient. And my imagination shut down. I couldn’t wrap this all up into a neat dramatic package to present to him as a happy ending after some funny shenanigans. He’d caught me out. This was happening in real time, and I couldn’t think of a scene from any book or movie to guide me.
I tried something new. Reality.
“So. Did I mention I wrote a book?” I tap-danced a ball and chain and ended with a jazz hands. Ta-da!
That earned me a smile, but it was followed by a hostile response as he quickly got under control again. “How long have you known?”
“Since I started writing it.”
That joke didn’t provoke even a groan. “How long have you been playing games with me?”
“Since we were kids.”
That time he did groan. “God, just answer the question I’m asking.”
“That’s not a question. It’s an imperative.” I bit my lip, trying not to laugh.
He sucked in a huge breath and took two steps until he was right up in my space. “This isn’t funny.”
I knew he was trying to look intimidating, but this was Max. I snorted. “It’s kind of funny.”
It wasn’t until he turned and headed toward the door that the magnitude of the fire I was playing with hit home. I followed and grabbed his wrist. “Max.”
He spun around, mouth rounded, words at the ready. I winced, expecting a torrent of all his pent-up frustration with my levity, anger at my deception, and renewed vows to leave and never come back. But he only said three words. “Just tell me.”
“I didn’t know, Max. I only figured it out Saturday.”
“That’s why—”
“That’s why I knew I’d fallen in love with you. You’ve been a friend. You’ve been family. But it took getting to know you online, just your words, your soul, your essence to figure it out.”
He blinked rapidly. “In love with me?” He covered his mouth as the new reality hit him. “Oh, my God, what did I write to you?”
I stepped closer. “Lots of things.”
“And that scene I wrote. You know I would never have sent it but—”
I stepped closer again. “But you didn’t think I cared for you like that. I know.”
He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “And everything I wrote you last night. Maddie—”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to get that confession out of you. I just wanted to trick you into meeting. I wanted to have this amazing revelation.”
He threw his hands up in the air. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? You wanted to trick me? Did it once occur to you to just say, ‘Hey, Max, guess what? We’ve been talking to each other online for weeks. Funny, huh?’”
“Yeah, that did occur to me. I liked my way better.”
“And how did your scene end?”
“Maybe with a kiss.”
“And then?”
“Happily-ever-after.”
He shook his head. “That’s the sticking point for me. Because that scene has been set up for us again and again.”
“I get why you don’t trust me. I do. I can’t believe how blind I’ve been, how it took words from an apparent stranger to break my heart open enough to find in you what you always could have been. I won’t try to make you choose between me and another path, Max. Go ahead and pursue this other opportunity, and I swear, I will be here, waiting for you for a change.”
I must have finally hit the right combination to unlock something because he leaned forward and put his forehead on mine. “Secret author, huh?”
It was such a small gesture, but I’d been swimming against a strong current and had finally reached solid land. I didn’t realize how starved I was for contact from him until he was so close I could have kissed him. What would it take to get him to move another inch toward me?
I sighed, my whole body melting. “Secret reviewer.”
His lips nearly brushed mine, but then he jerked back. “Do you think everything will be like a fairy tale? What happens when we fight? What happens when the business struggles and we have economic hardships? Are you prepared for that?”
“Max, you just described the past six months. I still want this. I don’t want to force you to do something, but I wish you’d take a chance on me.”
A smile curled the corner of his lip. He wrapped his hands around the back of my neck and granted my wish. It wasn’t a seductive kiss. He just pressed his lips to mine, then broke away again. “Hold that thought.”
Then he walked out of the store, leaving me alone to worry he wasn’t coming back.
* * *
Meet me on the bridge.
That was all his text said. I raced out the door and ran the entire distance without stopping to catch my breath once. I arrived before him, panting and leaning over the rail, hoping to catch a faint breeze to cool off my now perspiring skin.
The sun was just starting to set, and the sky over the trees was a bruise of blues and reds and purples. Crickets and frogs sang out in a chorus
from the woods and stream. It was the kind of twilight that felt like magic when we were children. The last burst of daylight, the last grasp of freedom before darkness would drive us home. I could almost hear the laughter as Max, Layla, and I tore across this bridge on our bikes, racing to get home before we’d get in any more trouble. I could see us on another day, when we were old enough to stay out later, swinging our feet from the bridge, making plans for the future, dreaming about what our life might turn out to be.
The light slipped from pink tinged to purple hued, and I discerned a dark shape strolling along the side of the stream, hands jammed in his pockets, like he had all the time in the world. His confident gait gave him an air of nobility, like a duke disguising himself as a commoner, unrecognized for who he truly was. I stopped myself. Max wasn’t a secret duke or a renegade knight or a billionaire down on his luck. He wasn’t a romance hero at all. He was my best friend, my soul mate, and the man I loved. He didn’t need to be anything more.
When he reached the bridge, he said, “Have you considered my proposition?”
I laughed. “Has this all been a long con?”
“Indeed it has been.” He took my hand. “But we took a different route to get here.”
“Where did you go?
“I went to talk to my mom.”
“And?”
“She’d be thrilled if you wanted to partner with us. We can refinance the mortgage to remove Peter from the loan.”
“What if the bookstore fails? You’ll lose your business, too. You could lose everything.”
He kissed the back of my hand. “Not if I don’t lose you. And besides, we’re not going to fail. We’re going to turn both businesses into so much more than either was before.”
My mind raced. If I wasn’t always tapping into my savings to pay Peter . . . “And we can use my advance.”
He blinked, confused.
“From my book. I’m expecting another check. It’s not a lot, but we could make some renovations.”
Dating by the Book Page 26