But now that it was gone, there was no way I could dash—I shouldn't have put my house keys in my purse. Instead, I hooked my arm into Max's and accepted my fate.
"Remember what I told you on the ride over here. No matter what your father says about you, no matter what may have happened before I met you, I care about you. I want the Heidi I met weeks ago with a burst pipe and amazing cookies. I'm the lucky one, to have you in my life."
Max lowered his head, and for a moment I was lost in his words. I believed them. Or maybe I was desperate to cling to them. It didn't matter; he was here and about to kiss me before the biggest vag-blocker of them all clicked her heals into the room.
"Heidi! Oh, darling. It's been too long." My mother's Spidey senses were on full alert when family entered the house, and she raised her arms as if seeking a hug. An embrace never meant to be. Everything was for show with her. Even me.
I'd be surprised if she came close enough to touch my sleeve.
Her long blond hair was pulled back into a perfect low bun. The air of sophistication and conservative style felt cold and uneasy all as she drew closer.
"Hello, Mother. I would like you to meet Max Brighton, my neighbor."
She stopped as if wonderfully surprised right before she had to clasp my shoulder or pat my elbow or whatever awkward touch she'd be forced to give her only daughter. Turning, she straightened to her full height and offered her hand.
"Max, this is my mom, Senator White."
See what I did there? I gave my mom an in. A chance where she could appear down to earth, despite being anything but. I've been taught since before I had my first pimple that it's important how outsiders viewed us. We—meaning the White family—needed to give the appearance of a loving, sweet, perfect representation of what a wholesome American family looked like.
"Oh, Heidi. He's your neighbor." She took his hand, not in one, but with both, saving her strength for having to touch another human for a commoner—something my mom actually referred to as anyone who wasn't a donor. As if she was an aristocrat and they were peasants.
Her warm and inviting smile was on point, like Max was a dear friend, when she said, "Senator White is for the Hill. You are a guest. Please, call me Sofia."
"It's nice to meet you, Sofia. Thank you for inviting me to your lovely home." Max fell easily for my mother's charms.
I sighed. They all did.
A flash of disappointment faltered my phony smile. My parents had been at this for decades, longer than I'd been alive. Is it any surprise that Max had already succumbed to my mother's charisma?
She waved her hand toward the two large ornately carved doors on our right, which led to the formal living room, used to impress and entertain guests. I was certain my parents—in an effort to scare him off—wanted to show Max just how much money the Whites had at their disposal. The room, they suspected, was where Max would show his true colors. Either fawning over them, thereby proving that he was only after me for my money. Or, they believed Max would stumble. Uncomfortable with that amount of wealth and therefore, reconsider being with me.
I knew this because the tactic was used on anyone who befriended a member of the White family. It usually worked, and I feared, it may also succeed with Max.
With a turn of the door handle and a gentle push, my mother swung open the door. There were several people in the room, including my father. He stood at the far end in front of the large fireplace with a crystal tumbler in hand, two fingers full of bourbon.
"Welcome to our little dinner party. We're quite informal. Please, help yourself to the drinks table in the corner." My mother gestured toward a large mahogany table with a man in white gloves standing behind it, off to our right. "Do excuse me, Attorney General Fitzwilliam is here."
My mother nodded as if just saying the attorney general's name was a "get out of jail free" card, and the prison being her daughter.
"Wow, the attorney general. I thought we were only having a dinner with your parents," Max said as a small bead of sweat inched its way down the side of his face.
I gritted my teeth, unhappy that my parents were experts at breaking people.
"Here, have a drink." I briskly maneuvered over to the table lined with liquor bottles and pointed to the first one I saw. "Two glasses and make them big." I widened my eyes at the bartender to drive home my point.
Max and I required plenty of lubrication for this evening, and not the sexy kind, either.
Once the vodkas were in my hand, I took a hefty gulp before handing Max his glass. The full effect of the hard liquor seized my throat causing me to choke on air, and Max to retrieve his drink before it spilled all over him.
My eyes watered but I still noticed Max doing his best to hold back a laugh. For that moment, we weren't in my parents' torture chamber, but back at his place or mine, or anywhere else but here. Somewhere that we could be happy and enjoy ourselves without judging eyes watching our movements.
"Heidi, my dear, you're supposed to sip the drink, not inhale it." My father made his usual obnoxious observation before a large rumble of laughter escaped his lips.
At one time I looked up to my dad, and my mom, when I was little and didn't know any better. They were strong, smart, and when they wanted something, they made it happen. But as I got older, I found out what they desired wasn't always in the best interest of those they represented or the country. They said anything to their constituents, especially if it fed into the voters' fear or anger, to get the votes.
My father told me one day, "Heidi, most people are beaten down in life, in one way or another. They're tired of trying and failing. They just want to be listened to. I listen. They vote."
When I asked him if once he's elected, would he work on their problems, he explained further, "I do what I can. But you have to understand, the voters don't have money. They can't pay me. Sure, their taxes help pay my salary, but who could live in this town on that? The real influence is the money. Besides, the people with the money are educated. They know what's best."
I reminded my father that he makes a six-figure salary and could live quite comfortably in DC on that. But, by that point, he waved me off. Reality wasn't something my father showed much interest in.
With an arm extended. "You must be Max Brighton, plumber extraordinaire."
Max shook the hand of my father, who happened to be the spitting image of JP Morgan.
"Yes, and you must be Senator White." Max's jaw ticked for a moment before he produced a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Come, come, you are in my home. None of that senator nonsense. Call me John."
"All right, John. Please, call me Max."
They were still shaking hands and staring at each other. As much as I feared Max falling for my mother's charms, I was more scared an old-timey duel would break out and my father would announce pistols at dawn. My eyes slid to the bartender, and I wondered if his gloves would be used by the men for the purpose of slapping a challenge.
"Now that we got the names out of the way, I hear Dashiell Fitzwilliam is here, Dad. Haven't seen him, or his son, since I was in high school. I'd love to say hi."
I wouldn't love it at all, but I needed to break up the testosterone battle before it turned deadly.
My father finally released Max's hand as he cleared his throat. It felt as if a fog had lifted and I could breathe again.
"Of course, Heidi. There's a work matter I needed to get his opinion on, so I invited him. Dashiell mentioned that his son, Astor, asked about you." My father's gaze flickered up to Max at the mention of Astor.
Having Astor as my date instead of Max or even Felipe would be a dream come true for my father. I bet my dad had a ring set aside at Tiffany's for the "right" man who would bend his knee for the senator's daughter.
My father brought us over to the attorney general, who was currently speaking to my mother and another gentleman I didn't recognize. My dad did his best to turn the conversation toward him. I noticed Max's arm tensed as he h
eld mine.
"Fitzwilliam, you remember my daughter, don't you?"
The tall, thin man with a wisp of white hair falling over the top of his head smiled awkwardly. I suspect he wasn't used to being interrupted. He must not spend much time with my father. Senator White never waited for a person to finish their words if he had anything to say.
"Yes, little Heidi. I guess not so little anymore. I heard you had gone to pastry school. If you ever open a bakery, you must let me know. I'll make sure to frequent it." He patted his stomach. "I do have a weakness for Danishes."
Everyone laughed except for my mother and father. I knew what my dad was thinking . . . How did the attorney general know this about his own daughter and not him? There was a lecture coming, I could feel my father preparing it based on the level of heat rolling off him.
A change of subject was in order.
"Yes, well, my latest project is my home I bought recently. Being a homeowner comes with its share of problems. My pipe burst a month and a half ago, but luckily, I had a neighbor who could save the day. This is Max Brighton, my neighbor, and hero of my pipes."
I cringed at the words that slipped through my lips. Hero of my pipes? Where's Felipe when I needed him? He would've known how to fix my disaster of a mouth.
"Pipes?" Dashiell said gazing at Max with utter confusion.
"I'm a plumber. I own—"
"Brighton Plumbing," the man who I didn't recognize added.
Based on how the man was glaring at Max, I suspected he was an unhappy client. Max was good at what he did and based on what his customers wrote online about his business, he got great reviews. But there was always an occasional unsatisfied client. I never thought that person would be at my parents' dinner party. Leave it to my dad to find the one person in the city who hated Max.
"Yes, Brighton Plumbing. Mr. Willis is correct."
"You two know each other?" my father asked with an inflection I knew all too well.
I stared at my dad with the full understanding that he knew Max recognized Mr. Willis. He probably invited Mr. Willis just to scare Max away. That's why Max tensed as we made our way toward Dashiell and my mom.
"Yes. He is my ex-wife's father," Max said as his nose flared.
Chapter 14
Max
"ISN'T IT A SMALL WORLD." Senator White's bushy mustache twisted in amusement.
Despite what the man thought, I was not naïve. I was not just a simple plumber or only a man who worked with his hands. I could understand wit and strategy, but unlike a politician, I didn't use it against people.
I held his gaze. "Not the world, Senator White, just small people."
Based on the cough that exited Heidi's father's mouth and the look of surprise on his face, I suspected he wasn't used to people challenging him. My words were a surprise to him. Maybe he wasn't as smart as people made him out to be.
"Wow, Dad, really? Do you honestly expect us to believe you had no idea this was Max's ex-wife's father?"
I could hear the bubbling anger in Heidi's voice and I had never been prouder. Her father had manipulated her for far too long, and it was about time she called him on it.
His hazel eyes refocused on the woman I loved.
Love? Did I really love Heidi?
Taking in the silky teal top and the black skirt that hugged her body perfectly, she was the picture of perfection. Even her long, blond braid that draped over one shoulder was stunning—elegant and simple at the same time.
But that's not love. If she were a hundred pounds heavier or had scars covering her face or was in a wheelchair, I would still believe I was the luckiest man in the room that she would defend me.
My love for Heidi wasn't any of those superficial things—it held everything she was and everything she hoped to be. My heart was helpless in succumbing to all the good, the bad, and the dirty that was Heidi.
"How could I possibly know that, Heidi? I've never met Mr. Brighton until now. I didn't even know he had been married or had a child, uh, I mean—"
Heidi's eyes lit up like a five-year-old running down to find presents under the tree on Christmas morning. She was beautiful when she was triumphant.
"I knew it. Admit it, you only invited Mr. Willis here to scare Max away." Heidi's finger dug into her father's chest. He winced but didn't stop her.
"Perhaps, this isn't the place for this, Heidi?" Heidi's mother rested her hand on her daughter's shoulder. As she did, her daughter tensed, and I wondered if it wasn't just manipulation they had done to their daughter over the years.
I had to get her away from these people.
"I agree with your mother, Heidi. Maybe we should just go." I was fed up with her parents' manipulation. They were too stupid to notice, but it was plain to see by anyone in this room how they treated their daughter. It sickened me that her parents were blind to all that was wonderful in Heidi.
Heidi made it clear that she never wanted to come here. As much as I wished to tell her parents what I really thought of them, this wasn't my home and Heidi deserved to be happy, not stressed from anything that might come out of my mouth.
The argument was best left for another time.
"This is between me and Max," Mr. Willis straightened his back as he spoke to no one in particular. "And Senator White didn't reach out to me, Ms. White . . .. I was the one who contacted him."
All heads turned toward my ex-father-in-law except mine. Why was I not surprised that he went after Senator White? Maybe because the man craved power and wanted nothing more than to destroy my life. Somehow, he discovered I was dating Heidi and saw his chance to screw me over.
"If you wish to speak with me, Mr. Willis, why don't we step into another room. No need to ruin the party."
Mr. Willis' eyes scanned the room, and I wondered for a moment if he would take me up on my offer to discuss things privately.
"That won't be necessary, Max. It's ancient history. This is a party, let's enjoy it." Mr. Willis was all smiles for everyone but me.
I rolled my eyes once he turned to move away into the crowd. Now that he was in front of important people, he was all talk. Usually, he wouldn't hesitate to tell me off, but how would that appear to the senators and attorney general?
Something didn't feel right, though. Why would he contact Heidi's father, get himself an invitation to the dinner party, and not do his best to humiliate me?
"See, Heidi. Mr. Willis is nothing but a man interested in causes. Causes that could help the country. He contacted me to see if I would help with his cause. Much like I helped you with your plumbing situation last month." Heidi's father waved his hand between me and his daughter.
"I need another drink." Heidi lifted the drink from my hand and gulped it down. "Looks like you need another drink too, Max."
She pushed the glass back at me while tugging me toward the beverage table in the corner of the room. Despite the uneasy conversation we were a part of moments ago, it felt good to have Heidi's fingers curled with mine.
"My dad's up to something."
I couldn't agree more and added, "My ex's father is, too. I have never had a conversation with my ex-father-in-law that didn't end in a fight. The fact that he hasn't argued with me is unnerving."
I held onto her hand, refusing to let it go as we made it to the drinks table. She had my heart, even if she didn't realize it. And for that, I would protect her. No one here, not even Mr. Willis, could scare me away from the most wonderful woman in the room.
"I thought my dad invited him to scare you off. You think it's worse than that?"
I placed the glass on the table and leaned toward her, inhaling her sweet scent. My breath moved a few loose tendrils from her braid over her delicate neck. "There is nothing anyone can say or do that would ever scare me away from you. I never knew love was this pure, this fulfilling. Why would I walk away from that?"
Heidi's cute little eyebrows lifted as the wrinkle between them deepened. There was hesitation and something I had never seen before
in her gaze as she said, "You love me?"
Even her words were breathy and faint, but I clung to every syllable as they dripped from her lips.
"Yes. I'm not saying this with the expectation of you feeling as I do. But I suspect you need to hear it. After finally witnessing how your parents treat you," I shake my head at the crowd before falling back into Heidi's eyes, "I want you to know that this beautiful woman standing before me is worth loving. You are sweet, kind, understanding, patient, goofy, intelligent, and a million other things I don't have the time to list tonight. But if you give me the chance, I will happily spend the next days, months, years, or however long you will have me, naming everything I love about you."
"Wow. How do I respond to that?" Heidi brought her hands up to her face. Was she hiding?
I never meant to scare her off, but I feared that was what I'd done. "Heidi, you—"
I was cut off by a man entering the room, announcing that it was time to move to the dining room. With an abrupt tug, Heidi broke away from my grasp and confirmed my fear. I was not a man Heidi could love.
I did my best to follow her, but the crowd intensified as we neared the doorway to the dining room. A long, rectangular, dark wooden table took up most of the room. Vases filled with white roses dotted the center of the table, and I estimated there were at least two dozen place settings with fine china, crystal goblets, and silver utensils.
Heidi's mother mentioned earlier that this was to be an informal dinner party. If this was informal, what would she consider formal?
Each setting had a name card perfectly printed on thick card stock. After a harrowing walk where my feet were stepped on several times and a drunk woman winked at me as she felt my ass, I found my place in the middle of the table.
Where was Heidi? I glanced around, and I found her near the head of the table, with her father at the head to her right and Mr. Willis to her left.
This wasn't going to end well.
Dirty Secret Page 9