God? She hadn’t been religious in the past, and he wondered if her cancer had made her seek solace in fairy tales.
“Here,” she reached into her bag, pulled out a notebook, and handed it over to him. “I’ve written down Peyton’s schedule, her bedtime routine, her fears, and what calms her down. I hope it’s all you’ll need, but again Alyssa can help. She’s expecting your call whenever you might need to make it.”
As she pushed herself up from the barstool, his heart tightened. “Wait, you’re going now?”
“I have to; I have a plane to catch. I have a few more bags for her in the car. I’ll set them on the front step before I leave.” Sarah looked past Max and called, “Peyton, come here please.”
The little girl appeared by her mother’s side, so quiet it was almost stealthy. Sarah knelt until she was face to face with the girl. “Peyton, Max is going to take care of you, but he might need some help. Be patient with him and help him out.”
Peyton’s big blue eyes filled with tears, and she wrapped her arms around Sarah’s neck. “I don’t want you to go, Mommy.”
“I know, Baby, and I don’t want to go, but it’s Mommy’s last chance to get better.”
As the two hugged, Max felt a stirring in his soul that he’d never felt before, but too soon, Sarah was standing again, and the little girl was crying big hitching sobs as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I love you, Peyton,” Sarah said, and then she was gone, and Max was left staring at the small girl. What was he going to do now?
Chapter 3
As the sunlight streamed in the bedroom window, Max opened his eyes, hoping the previous night had been a bad dream, but as he rolled to his left side, he saw the little girl curled up with her pink bear clutched tightly in her arms. Her long lashes fanned out on her cheeks, and she looked peaceful as her little chest rose and fell, but he knew that wouldn’t last long.
Last night after Sarah left, the little girl had been almost inconsolable. She had cried for an hour straight while Max awkwardly hugged her and tried to offer her books or movies–he had no toys, and she hadn’t brought many with her. He had finally decided to lay her down, but she hadn’t wanted to stay in his guest room either, so he had nestled her in his own bed and laid with her until she had fallen asleep.
As quietly as possible, Max edged out of bed and headed into the kitchen for coffee. It had been a long night, and he had the feeling today would be a long day too. As he passed the front door, he remembered Sarah saying something about putting more bags on the front porch. He had forgotten all about them last night, but thankfully they were still there when he opened the door. After bringing them inside and locking the door once again, he continued his trek to the kitchen. His cell phone rang just as the coffee started percolating.
“Hey, man, we still on for tonight?” Justin’s voice carried through the phone.
Max sighed. He had forgotten all about their plans for the evening. “I don’t know. Something happened last night, and I have to take care of some stuff.”
“Stuff? What are you talking about? This party is going to be epic.”
Max grabbed a mug from the cabinet and filled it with coffee. “Sarah showed up last night.”
“Sarah? The girl from four years ago? What did she want?”
“She wanted to introduce me to my daughter.”
Justin let out a long, low whistle. “Daughter? Are you sure? Did you ask for a paternity test? I know you liked her, but she could just be trying to trap you, man, get some money, you know?”
Max hadn’t considered asking for a paternity test, partly because it was Sarah, and he couldn’t believe she would come back for money, but also because the girl looked like him. She had his nose and his blue eyes. He had no doubt she was his.
“It’s not like that. She’s dying, and she needs to get treatment, so she left Peyton with me until she either gets better or...” He trailed off. If Sarah didn’t get better, that would mean Peyton would be his responsibility forever. What had he agreed to?
“That’s heavy, man, what are you going to do?”
Max took a sip of the hot coffee and shook his head though he knew Justin couldn’t see the motion. “She left me the number of her friend. I’m going to call her today and see if she can take care of this.”
“Maybe her friend will be hot, and it will be worth it.”
Max rolled his eyes. Justin should know better than to mix business with pleasure. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll let you know.” Max hung up the phone before Justin could add more. He took another sip of his coffee and almost dropped the mug when he saw Peyton. Again, he had not heard a sound.
“Hi, Peyton, you hungry?” he asked, pasting on what he hoped was a smile. “I think I have cereal or we could go get breakfast.” What did three-year-olds even eat?
“I want my mommy.”
“I know you do,” he said, kneeling to her level as Sarah had last night, “but Mommy had to go away for a while.”
“I want her back.” She stepped to him and threw her arms around his neck. Last night, she had barely let him touch her, so the force of her hug threw him off guard and off balance.
She smelled sweet and innocent. It was such a different smell from what he was used to that he wasn’t sure he could explain it if he had to. Without thinking, his arms wrapped around her, and his hands began to pat the soft brown curls of her hair. It was an awkward and unfamiliar gesture. He didn’t even like to console the women he dated, and he could feel his shoulder getting wet from her tears.
“Peyton, I know you miss her, and I am a lousy replacement, but I’m going to need your help, so can you try to be a big girl and stop crying?” His words did not have the desired effect as a loud screeching noise began to accompany the sobs.
Crap. What do I do now? He remembered the card with Sarah’s friend’s name on it and untangled himself from the child to search for it. The counter. Sarah had laid it on the counter. Thankfully, he was a neat freak and his counter was clutter free. The white card called like an SOS beacon from the same spot Sarah placed it last night.
Scooping it up, he perused the information. Alyssa 434-555-1347. The screeching had gotten louder and shriller from Peyton, and he nearly dropped his phone in his haste to extricate it from his pocket the first time.
Please be home. Please be home. The mantra ran through his head as he input the digits. Though it felt wrong to leave Peyton alone, he headed down the hall and away from the kitchen, so when Alyssa hopefully picked up, he would be able to hear her.
“Hello?” The voice was soft and feminine—music to his ears—but not for the usual reasons.
“Is this Alyssa?” His own voice sounded strange in his ears—desperate and high pitched.
“It is, to whom am I speaking?”
The properness in her return gave him pause, and he blinked trying to re-form the words he had seconds ago. “My name is Maxwell. Sarah gave me your number and said you could help with Peyton. She’s crying—well, screaming is more like it—and I can’t make her stop. Is there a trick? Can you help?”
A small chuckle met his ears. “There is no magic pill you can give her. She’s lost her mom. You have to learn how to console her. Hug her and let her know you are there for you.”
“I tried that,” he said, the desperation now clawing at his throat. “It only made her cry louder.”
“You have to give it time,” she said, “but give me your address, and I’ll swing by. It sounds like you are out of your element here, and I’d like to make sure Peyton is taken care of.”
Chapter 4
Alyssa hung up the phone and grabbed her keys. Sarah had told her to expect a call from Maxwell, and while she hadn’t expected it so soon, she was curious to see what this man was like. The stories she had heard from Sarah had her intrigued to say the least.
Half an hour later, she pulled up in the grand driveway, and her eyes widened. Sarah had said he was wealthy, but the appearance of this house made we
althy an understatement. Alyssa was sure she was going to feel underdressed in her jeans and “I love Paris” t-shirt.
Not bothering to lock her car door—she had nothing worth stealing compared to this house—she dropped her keys in her purse and approached the massive front door, which was actually two large wooden doors with an ornate gold trim. She pressed the bell, curious as to what the inside would hold.
Alyssa was surprised when, a moment later, the doors opened and Max himself stood on the other side. At least she assumed it was Max. He wore no uniform, just a pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt. His dark hair was tousled as if he had just woken up, but it was his piercing blue eyes that convinced her. Sarah had spoken of these blue eyes often, but even her description held no candle to the effect they had in person.
“Maxwell?” Alyssa asked, tilting her head and holding out her hand.
“You must be Alyssa,” he said, shaking her hand. It was strong, but not rough. He must not work with them much. Sarah had never mentioned his job, but looking at Maxwell, Alyssa could see why. His physical appearance dominated her brain.
“Yes, sorry, I was just expecting someone else to answer the door. The house is so large; you must have some help.” Her eyes scanned the foyer behind him. It was clean and minimalist, decorated in browns and creams.
“I don’t keep full-time help,” he said, dropping her hand. “I like my privacy.”
Though Alyssa nodded, she couldn’t imagine one wouldn’t still have privacy in a place this big even with full-time help. “Where is Peyton? May I see her?”
Maxwell stepped back, scooting boxes aside with his foot, and motioned her inside. “She’s in the living room. It took forever to get her calmed down enough to eat, but a frozen waffle and some cartoons seemed to have helped.”
Maxwell led the way through the ornate foyer and down a hall into the living room. Alyssa tried to keep up, but her attention was drawn to the left and the right as they meandered through the house. She wasn’t sure if his artwork was genuine, but the sheer amount of famous paintings hanging on his walls was enough to awe her.
A large television screen hung on the living room wall, displayed an episode of Sophia the First. Peyton was curled into one corner, her bear snuggled tightly to her chest. She looked smaller than her three years on the large leather couch.
“Hey, Peyton, how are you?” Alyssa asked, as she sat down beside her.
Peyton turned big blue eyes up at her. They weren’t quite the same blue as Maxwell’s, but it was clear the gene came from him. “Hi, Aunt Lyssa. I miss my mom.”
“I know, sweetie, but your mom is going to get treatment to see if she can get better. Has Maxwell been taking care of you?” Alyssa could feel Maxwell staring at her back, but she kept her eyes focused on Peyton, who shrugged.
“I guess. He didn’t want to read to me last night, or pray, or sing, though.”
“I don’t sing,” Max chimed in.
Alyssa shot him a silencing look. “Well, Peyton, Max isn’t used to having a little girl in the house, and he doesn’t know the routines, but I bet you could help him.”
“Okay, I’ll try.”
As her attention turned back to the screen, Alyssa rose from the couch and motioned Max to follow her to the kitchen where they could speak privately.
“You have to try to follow her routine,” she said as she placed her hands on her hips. “She just lost all stability in the world. Those routines are the only thing grounding her.”
Max crossed his arms, and Alyssa’s eyes were drawn to the well-toned appendages. “Maybe you should take her. I don’t know how to be what she needs.”
“I would if I could, but I have to finish school. Besides, you’re her father. If Sarah doesn’t get better, you’ll be her custodian legally. Show me her room.”
“Her room?” Max blinked at her as if her words were not computing in his brain.
“Yes, her room. Where she will be sleeping.”
“She just got here last night, and she didn’t want to stay by herself, so she ended up in my room.”
“She can’t stay in your room. She needs a proper room. Show me your guest rooms then, and we’ll work on fixing one up for her, so she feels comfortable.”
“What do you mean fixing one up?” There was a hint of panic in his voice, which Alyssa couldn’t decide if she found annoying or charming.
“I mean paint, a kid’s bed, toys.” As his eyes widened in alarm, she pointed her finger at him. “Unless you want to be sharing your bed with a three-year-old for the foreseeable future.”
Max took a step back and shook his head. “Fine, you can decorate a room. Follow me.”
He led the way back down the hallway toward the foyer.
“What are these boxes? Are they Peyton’s?” she asked as he passed them again as if they weren’t there.
He shrugged. “Yeah, Sarah left them last night.”
“Why haven’t you opened them?”
“To be honest, I forgot about them until this morning.”
“Well, you should un-forget, and when we get her room figured out, we should unpack them for her. That would help. She needs familiar things to help her get through this.”
Max rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine, we’ll unpack them later. Do you want to see the rooms or not?”
Alyssa swallowed her agitation and motioned for him to continue showing the way. They crossed through the foyer and down another hallway. Three doors lined the hallway on the left and right plus a door sat at the end.
Grasping the handle, Max swung the first door on the right open. A spacious bedroom lay on the other side with a queen bed and a large dresser. Nothing else was in the room, not even a book or a lamp.
“Don’t use this one much, huh?” Alyssa asked, surprised by the sterility of the room.
“Don’t use any of them much. It’s just me, remember?” He opened the next room which was very similar to the first. The third door was the first-floor bathroom.
“Well, I can see why she didn’t want to stay in either of those rooms. They are impersonal at best and probably scary to a small child. We need to go get some paint, a smaller bed, and toys. Are you free now? I have some time.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he said shrugging. He closed the doors, and they returned to the living room to grab Peyton.
As they entered the garage, Alyssa looked around. Her brow furrowed as she turned to Max. “Where is your car?”
“What do you mean? It’s right there,” he said pointing to the BMW.
“You can’t take Peyton in that. There’s no backseat. Where would you even put a car seat in there?”
He blinked at her. “A what?”
Alyssa rolled her eyes. Had this guy been living under a rock? “A car seat. Kids have to use them until they are old enough or tall enough to sit in a booster seat, which also wouldn’t fit in your car. Children can’t sit up front because of the airbags. Your car is a deathtrap.”
Max’s face turned to stone and his arms crossed. “My car is a work of art. It goes zero to sixty in less than six seconds.”
A short burst of irritated breath flew out of Alyssa’s mouth. “A three-year-old doesn’t care how fast your car goes. She cares about being safe in your car. Never mind,” she said, shaking her head, “we’ll take mine.”
“You have a car seat in yours?” The comment was snide and meant to get under her skin, but Alyssa chose to ignore it and closed her eyes for a moment before answering.
“No, I don’t have a car seat in my car, but at least it has a back seat. Didn’t Sarah leave Peyton’s car seat?”
“Not unless it’s in one of those boxes by the front door,” he said.
“No, it would be bigger than those boxes. She must have forgotten. Well, we can strap Peyton in my backseat, and I will drive very carefully to a store where we can get a car seat for her.” Alyssa looked down at Peyton who had been quiet during the exchange. Her eyes turned expectantly to Max as if she had been fo
llowing them like an unseen tennis match.
“Fine, we’ll take your car, but I’m not getting rid of my BMW.” He hit the garage door button, and the bay began to lift, allowing them access to her car in the driveway.
“With your money, you could just buy another car,” Alyssa said under her breath as she grabbed Peyton’s hand and followed him. She couldn’t believe the nerve of this man nor could she understand how Sarah was ever attracted to him. Sure, he was good looking, with his dark hair and tempting blue eyes, and he obviously took care of his body as his shorts hugged his frame just right and his arms displayed the lines of finely toned muscles, but he was just as self-absorbed as he was handsome, and that was a trait she could not stand.
Max stopped short at the sight of her blue Ford Escort. “You want me to ride in that?” he asked as his head dropped forward in disbelief.
Alyssa pulled her shoulders back. Her car might not be a convertible sports car like his, but it was reliable and hers. Through dedication, she had managed to pay it off while going to school. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” she said pointedly. “My car is safe and reliable.”
“And boring,” he said in a sing-song lilt.
Letting the comment go, Alyssa opened the back door for Peyton and strapped her in. “I promise I’ll drive safely, Peyton.”
Still grumbling under his breath, Max climbed into the passenger seat, and after strapping herself in the driver’s seat, Alyssa started the car and pointed it in the direction of the nearest Wal-Mart.
“I cannot shop here,” Maxwell said as she pulled into the discount store parking lot.
Exasperated, she rolled her eyes at him. “You can, and you will. They have everything we need here, and I don’t know where the nearest hoity-toity store is that would have what we need.”
The look on his face led her to believe that no one had ever talked to him that way, and it gave her a small amount of masochistic pleasure to see him put in his place.
After rescuing Peyton from the back of the car, she placed her in the front section of the shopping cart and fastened the strap.
The Billionaire's Secret Page 2