It's a Fugly Life

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It's a Fugly Life Page 3

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff


  Anyway, that all happened immediately after my accident. Once I’d heard about it and learned the real truth about his feelings for me, I came out and publicly apologized. Profusely. But it had been too late. CC’s value had already tanked, and the press preferred to focus on bashing Max.

  By the time I had the courage to see him and tell him how sorry I was, it was also too late. Or, at least, I thought so. Now I understood that Max hadn’t thrown in the towel on us. He’d needed time to sort some things out, perhaps. As for me, the event made me realize how much work I needed to do on myself.

  I stood from my couch to greet Patricio and smoothed down the front of my blue floral dress—a number with a cinched waist and pleated skirt from my boutique.

  I went for the door, opened it, and gasped at the tall, stunningly handsome figure darkening my doorstep.

  “Max? What are you doing here?”

  He held out a dozen red roses, shoved them into my chest unceremoniously, and then peeked inside. “This your place?” His expression held a tinge of disgust.

  I took the flowers begrudgingly. “Yes, this is my place, and before you say anything, it’s what I can afford, including the thrift-store furniture you’re about to call horrible.” For the record, it wasn’t horrible. Khaki sofa and armchair, plain natural wood coffee table, a round kitchen table in the eating area, and a few paintings of lilies on the wall. Simple, clean, modest. Affordable.

  He stepped past me into the living room area, surveying the furniture with abhorrence. “I prefer the word disgraceful. You can do better.”

  “I have to put what I make into the store, not into furniture I barely use.” I shut the door behind him and set the flowers down on the kitchen/dining table. I couldn’t help checking him out as he continued looking around the room. Black jeans to accent his firm round ass, blue V-neck sweater, black leather jacket, his hair a fuck of a mess. God, he looks so beautiful. And yet…I still want to kick him in his beautiful gonads.

  Just like old times.

  “What about the settlement?” he asked.

  He referred to the fact that I’d been awarded half a million dollars in damages because of my accident. I had nothing to do with suing the news station, but Max had seen to it that they’d paid. About forty percent had been taken by the government, twenty went to pay off my student loans from Stanford, and the other forty had gone into opening the store.

  “Max? What do you want?” Besides torturing me. I could hardly look at him without wanting him or second-guessing my decision to turn him down.

  “Can I sit?”

  “No, you cannot sit,” I replied. “Patricio is coming over.”

  Max narrowed his beautiful hazel eyes. “Wedding planning, I presume?”

  “I haven’t given him my answer yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Max, what do you want?”

  “I have a business proposal.”

  He couldn’t be serious. Those were the words he’d used when we began the journey that would forever change who we were. “No, Max. No proposals. You need to leave.”

  “I am going to start a new cosmetics company. And I’d like you to be the face. And my partner.”

  I jerked my head back. “Max,” I said in a tone to indicate that I thought he’d lost his fucking head.

  “Lily,” he replied, as if to say “look at what I’m offering you.”

  “Max, what the hell are you trying to do?”

  “As you’re aware, I sold Cole Cosmetics. I’ve been investing in various companies, but I’d like to invest in you.”

  My mouth sort of flapped open and shut repeatedly.

  He went on, “You’ve got a knack for connecting with people on a very genuine level. And you have a clear vision of what women want.”

  “What’s that?”

  He gave me a look.

  Okay, I knew the answer to that: we didn’t want companies to make us feel ugly just so they could make a profit. We wanted these marketing monsters to stop infecting us with these unattainable images of perfection. We deserved to love ourselves. As for marketing, Max was the master of selling products on the basis of being good to one’s self. In other words, “Pamper yourself! You deserve it!” instead of, “Hey. You’re kind of ugly, but if you buy our product, you’ll feel better about it.” Nevertheless, Max’s proposal was insane.

  “I hate to point out the obvious,” I said, “but you had a company that focused on real women. You sort of lost your credibility when you came out of the ugly-hater closet.”

  Max’s eyes flicked with irritation.

  “Sorry. But it’s true.”

  He bobbed his head. “All right. Fine. But you’ve only proven why I need you. You’ll be the face of the company, and you’ll run it.”

  Wow. Max wanted to play hardball with my heart. He knew running a big company like that—one with a mission to change an industry with a severe moral deficit—had been my lifelong dream. It was why I’d gone to work for him. I’d wanted to learn the ropes from the marketing master.

  My mind quickly do-si-doed around several flowery visions, complete with frolicking chipmunks and multicolored butterflies, of the two of us working side by side, changing the world one tube of eco-friendly lipstick at a time.

  Stop. No. You can’t go there. I couldn’t do that and be with Patricio. There was too much baggage and temptation with Max.

  “It’s a kind thought, but I can’t accept.” I reached for the door handle to show him out.

  “Why?”

  The truth was too difficult to say, and frankly, all I wanted was to put him and me in the past. I needed to move on for sanity’s sake. “I don’t want to talk about this, Max.”

  He sat down on my sofa and looked up at me with those angry hazel eyes. “Too bad.”

  “Don’t do this. Please.”

  “What?” He crossed his arms and leaned back.

  “Don’t push me to emotionally crack open for you.”

  “I’m asking you a simple question, Lily. Don’t make it into more.”

  Damn him. So stubborn. I walked over, sat, and placed my hand over his. “You want me to beg again? I’m begging you. Please leave.”

  He dipped his head, giving me a look. He wasn’t going to go until I gave him an answer.

  “Fine. You want to hear the truth? It’s because we are toxic together.” Two uglies did not make a beautiful. We only made more ugly.

  “Bullshit. You love me, Lily. I know you do. And if it’s not enough for you, I accept that. But I love you and won’t allow you to throw your life away on a business you don’t really want and a man who’s not your equal. At least this way, I’m saving you from one of those, and when you wake up with regards to Patricio, I won’t be far.”

  “Goddammit.” I leaned forward and pushed the heels of my palms against my eyelids, forgetting I’d put on heavy eye makeup to look extra nice for Patricio this evening. I’d even taken the time to curl my long blonde hair into sexy ringlets. A waste of time if Max didn’t leave before Patricio arrived because he’d only focus on his nemesis being in my apartment. “You’re impossible.”

  “Don’t forget handsome as fuck, wealthy, and an excellent judge of character.”

  “You forgot arrogant.”

  “That’s implied. Yes or no, Lily?”

  Business partners? He was mad. “The answer is no. I’m happy with my little store, and it helps women in need.”

  Max let out a haughty laugh. “You and I both know you’re capable of so much more, and if you take my offer, you’d find yourself in a position to help more than a few woman-owned micro-businesses.”

  Dammit. Dammit. Dammit! Max was such a good salesman. He always knew the angles.

  “I see you still have the touch, selling ice to the Eskimos,” I said.

  His eyes narrowed. “And I see you’re still shrinking back, Lily. From day one I was honest with you—you talk, but you don’t walk.”

  “What the hell does that mea
n?”

  “You may have had surgery to make your face beautiful, but you’re still walking around like you don’t deserve more in life.”

  “Why would you say that?” I snapped. It hurt. And it wasn’t true. Okay, maybe it was, but everyone—everyone—had challenges to deal with. My fugly voice was mine, and I was dealing with it.

  “You,” he snarled, “are the smartest, most fucking tenacious woman I’ve ever met. You have gone after everything you’ve ever wanted with a ferocious hunger.”

  “Which is what I’m doing right now.”

  “A fucking boutique with crafty handmade clothes and shitty little humanitarian trinkets? And then there’s the bonus of it sounding like your monthly bill. Exactly what were you thinking when you named it Lily’s Pad?”

  My jaw dropped.

  “You know I’m saying the truth. You’re selling yourself short again exactly like you did the first day you walked into Cole Cosmetics and applied for a job you were overqualified for. Your dream is to own your own cosmetics company. You were on a mission, and you wouldn’t allow even an asshole like me to get in your way. That being said, you are no marketing expert—Ms. Lily Pad—but I sure the fuck am.”

  I felt that irresistible tugging, drawing me toward him. He had this way of knocking a person down to earth and then making them believe they could reach the stars, but only if they followed him because only he knew the way.

  No. No. No! I’m not falling for it. “I owe my marriage with Patricio a fair chance. He won’t get that with you around.”

  “Because you know that no one will ever love you like I do,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Dammit. His words were like thumbscrews. Only on my heart. Heart screws?

  “Gah!” I threw up my hands. “He’ll feel threatened. You’re my ex-boyfriend. And you’re not just any guy. You’re Maxwell Cole.”

  He smiled. “Meaning you find me extremely attractive. Thank you. But if Patricio’s insecure, that’s not my fucking problem. Because this has nothing to do with him—this is business. And it’s your future.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire. “Max, I’m not going to work for you again.”

  “Not ‘for.’ Side by side. And don’t be an idiot. This is an offer of a lifetime.”

  “Out. Now.” I stood and pointed toward the door.

  “Not until you say yes.”

  “No.” I would, however, say yes to kicking him in the ass.

  Max rose from the couch, stood in front of me, and beamed down at my face, a reminder of how good it felt when he looked at me that way. Lust, love, affection—whatever. There was no bigger high than being adored by him.

  “You’re smart, Lily,” he said with sincerity. “So I know you will be thinking it over. And then you’ll come to realize you barely know Patricio. I’ve known him for years.”

  “Really?” I put my hand on my hip. “So you two were besties? Like sleepovers and secret handshakes?”

  “You and your smart mouth need to listen.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “Patricio is shallow. He can’t challenge you like you need. He’s lived a perfect life and will never understand you.”

  “Like you can?” I said bitterly.

  “Yes. Absolutely. But that’s beside the point. Sooner or later you’re going to see I’m telling the truth. So go ahead and marry the guy. But he’ll screw you over, and you’ll be left with nothing but a failed business, debt, and a résumé you can’t use. I’m offering you real love, happiness, and a chance to live your dream—I’ve thought of little else these past six months.”

  It didn’t seem that way to me, since I hadn’t heard a peep from the man. Nevertheless…Sonofabitch! He is so damned good at selling! It really pissed me off. The little crack about my résumé, for example? Let’s just say that my name and face were fairly well known at this point. Tabloid after tabloid, reporter after reporter, my little affair with Max had gone global and landed me the nickname of the “billionaire breaker.” The media had been fascinated with me, Max, and our story. And not in a nice way. No one could understand how one of the sexiest men on the planet could love me. Okay. Yes. I’ll shut the hell up, because honestly, I hadn’t been able to either. Anyway, despite my Ivy League résumé, no self-respecting company would ever hire me now.

  “You always know the perfect angle to persuade people, Max,” I growled, not meaning it as a compliment.

  “It’s a gift.” He shrugged. “So did I succeed?”

  “No. And now that I’ve heard what you had to say, it’s time to go.” I opened the door to show him out.

  Max headed for the door, shaking his head. He wasn’t thrilled about my turning him down this morning, and he wasn’t thrilled now. I wasn’t thrilled about looking at his perfect ass and towering lean frame with muscles in all the right places as he walked out. Everything about him undid me.

  “Bye, Max. And…”

  He turned to face me, and those hazel eyes—filled with frustration—created a vacuum in my head. All I could think about was how much I missed him.

  I gulped, feeling my heart do a little wave action.

  “Yes?” he said.

  “Ummm…thank you. For caring so much about what happens to me.” It felt wrong to end things on such an angry note even if I felt angry. Because despite everything, Max held a special place in my heart, and I knew he was doing all this because he cared.

  He tilted his head to one side and stepped forward, speaking softly and gazing down at me as if I were his most cherished possession. “I only want to see you live a happy, successful life, like you deserve, Lily. So promise you’ll think about what I said.”

  God, he was so good at getting to me.

  I sighed quietly. “Fine. I’ll think about it.” I would also think about the fact that he’d popped into my life and asked me to marry him this morning—something I still couldn’t persuade my brain cells to absorb.

  Max stepped forward, reached out his hand, and traced the scar along my forehead. I knew what he was doing. He wanted to desensitize himself. Or maybe show me how far he’d come. Once upon a time, we couldn’t be in the same room without him breaking into a sweat.

  I watched with fascination while his perfect face—straight nose, full lips, and angular jaw—focused on me. I breathed in his expensive cologne and savored the memories it brought—him holding me close, making love to me, breathing against my neck. Max had been my first kiss, my first everything.

  Caught up in the sensual memories, I closed my eyes, wishing that things had turned out differently. Why had I not believed in us? Okay, dammit. I knew why.

  Suddenly, I felt his lips on mine. Soft, hot, and sensual. He felt so good, so right. Gentle and strong all rolled into one.

  “Lily!” Patricio’s voice roared.

  I pushed back from Max and turned my head. Patricio stood ten feet away. Rage sizzled in his bright green eyes.

  “You fucking bastard.” Patricio zeroed in on Max and ran straight for him.

  Well, that’s something I never thought I’d see. With my mouth hanging open, I watched two completely hot men tumble around on the sidewalk in front of my first-floor apartment, trying to beat the crap out of each other.

  Yes, I did understand that the proper reaction would be to panic or feel angered by their immature behavior, but I wasn’t just anyone. Remember, I was once the girl no one looked at except with pity or disgust. Yes, I compensated with my personality and still had lots of girlfriends, but getting male attention felt alien, and this was no exception. Italy’s hottest actor and America’s sexiest bachelor were fighting over me.

  This is definitely strange. And so amazingly hot. Wait. Am I evil for thinking that?

  Max, a slightly larger man, rolled over Patricio and cocked his fist. Patricio threw up his arm and crosscut Max in the jaw, sending him back. Patricio took advantage of the opportunity and scrambled forward, straddling Max.

  As Patricio pulled back his fist, aiming for Max’s perfect nose, I scream
ed, “No!”

  Max thrust his knee upward and launched Patricio forward. Patricio’s fist pummeled the cement below.

  Ouch. That had to hurt.

  Patricio wailed.

  Yep. It hurt.

  “You fucking asshole. You don’t deserve her!” Max twisted his body and threw Patricio down, landing a punch straight on Patricio’s cheekbone.

  Blood began running from a cut on Patricio’s face, which immediately jolted me out of my shock and into the worst panic ever. They really wanted to kill each other.

  “Okay. That’s enough!” I barked, doing an awkward little waving action with my hands. “Stop. Both of you.”

  Max and Patricio rolled and grunted, each one trying to get the upper hand.

  “Stop! Goddammit!” I tried to grab for an arm to pull them apart, but they were like two feral cats, moving so fast I couldn’t see who was who or what was what.

  From the corner of my eye, I caught a neighbor taking pictures through her window. And goodie. We’ll be getting tabloid coverage.

  Flustered, I stared down at the two beautiful jackasses and gushed out a breath. Imbeciles. Fighting resolved nothing.

  “Stop!” I yelled. “That’s it! That’s fucking it.”

  Their tangled limbs and grunting bodies rolled toward me, knocking me to the ground. I fell back, landing with a hard thump on the cement, and hit my elbow to break the fall.

 

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