Aftermath

by Tricia Owens

  Max curled his hands into fists before he fell to one knee before Ethan, shocking him. “If I fall, it will be so I can be with you. Equal to you as I have always been.”

  Ethan leaned into the palm that cupped his cheek. “You can’t do this, Max.”

  “We’ll survive and move on. This won’t be the end of us, nor of any of our dreams. The Elite Poole doesn’t define me. My relationship with you does. And you are not my Achilles’ Heel. You’re the only thing that gives me strength.”

  When Max’s lips met his, they trembled. Ethan gripped the shoulders of his coat with both hands, afraid that Max would change his mind and choose success over him. It was one thing to nobly claim that Ethan would leave him for the better good. It was another thing to do it. Ethan didn’t want to go.

  He kissed Max with all his might, but it hurt. This wasn’t about joy, but about endurance. Sacrifice. Things they shouldn’t have been feeling if it weren’t for Ethan’s poor decision-making. If it weren’t for—

  “You two really know how to make a man feel like a major asshole.”

  Max jerked away from Ethan, startled. He, too, must have forgotten that Merrick was in the room, watching and listening to them. Ethan’s ex looked grim, as though he’d received bad news.

  Or, Ethan thought, as though he’d come to a decision.

  “Ethan wasn’t wrong about me,” Merrick said to Max. “I’m imperfect. I’ve made a tremendous, terrible mistake, but Ethan wasn’t wrong.” He swallowed. “I’m a stand-up guy, and I protect the ones I care about. That means Ethan and by extension, you, too, Maxmillian.”

  “Merrick,” Ethan breathed, afraid to believe anything at this point, “what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you stood up for me for a reason. I’m going to prove why.”

  Max took Ethan’s hand and drew them both to their feet.

  “Your words are impressive but how do they translate into results?” Max demanded, his tone wary.

  Merrick pointed at his laptop. “The manipulated photos of Ethan on the bed—I can make them even faker.”

  Ethan had to replay the words in his mind and yet he still didn’t understand what they meant. “How is that going to help?”

  “I’m damn good at what I do. I’ll paste clothes onto you and I’ll claim that they’re the original images and that the naked ones are the manipulations. It’ll shift the focus, make people question the intent of removing your clothes. These days celebrities are constantly battling doctored photos of them nude or engaged in sexual situations. The public has learned not to trust what they see, especially if it involves flesh. If now there are multiple versions of those photos circulating—that increases the doubt that any of them are real.”

  “And some people will question who made the photos available and what their motive was in doing so.” Max nodded thoughtfully. “It may work.”

  “Maybe,” Merrick agreed, “but it’ll take more than that. It’ll take the original photographer coming forward and identifying the fake photos. That will sow the seeds of doubt.” He took a deep breath. “It would be even better if I threatened to call out who I believe is behind everything…and why.”

  Ethan sensed Max’s sudden tension and understood why he’d be concerned. If there was one thing Max detested, it was the airing of dirty laundry.

  “Hopefully it doesn’t get that far,” Merrick said as though he’d read Max’s mood. “Just the threat should be enough to force your father to back off.”

  “You told me if you told the truth, Moira would lose the hush money she was given,” Ethan reminded him. “She’d retaliate against you.”

  “My career is basically washed up after this,” Merrick agreed with a strained smile. “If she ruins me, so be it. But at least I’m going out on my terms. Maybe I can redeem myself a little bit. To you.”

  “Thank you,” Ethan said softly.

  Max eyed the interaction between the two of them but didn’t comment on it. He indicated the laptop. “Show me what you can do with those photos of Ethan.”

  Merrick nodded, suddenly looking less sure of himself.

  “I believe in you,” Ethan told him. “You’re the best at what you do.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Merrick sighed and got to work.

  ~~~~~

  “You’ll become his next target,” Maxmillian stated.

  Seated at the desk, facing his laptop, Merrick Felix nodded resignedly. “I expect as much. He strongly hinted that when he paid off Moira for me.”

  “I’ll do what I can to protect you. I have considerable resources at my disposal.”

  “Sure.”

  Felix didn’t sound convinced. Max couldn’t blame him. Defying the will of extremely wealthy and powerful men like his father rarely boded well.

  “None of this is on Ethan.” Felix squinted at the screen as he used the mouse. “I want to state that for the record.”

  Max glanced to the bathroom, where Ethan was washing his face and doing his best to calm down after the stress of the afternoon. Max still had trouble digesting the fact that his husband had been willing to leave him to protect him from the machinations of his father. It was a greater sacrifice than Max could have made had their situations been reversed. Max wouldn’t have considered bowing down to his father for even a second. Never would he allow that man to triumph and tear him from Ethan. But Ethan, in a more vulnerable position than he, had been willing to surrender everything. The depth of his love was immeasurable, and Max was shaken by it.

  “Ethan knew me better than I knew myself,” Felix went on. “He had faith that I’d become the better man.”

  “Ethan’s faith in humanity is unwavering,” Max replied, unable to find a single fault with that. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am that he was correct about you.”

  He suspected there had been more drama involved between the two men before he’d arrived, but none of that mattered now. Felix had come through. The photo manipulation was complete and done so well that had Max not known the difference, he would have had trouble identifying the real from the fakes.

  “When Ethan intended to leave Las Vegas—it was only because he panicked,” Felix said slowly. “All he cared about was the impact this would have on you. It was all about you. I used to think he loved me when we were together, and he did, in his own way. But I can see now that he never felt the same for me as he does for you. It’s real this time. And I…I envy you.”

  Max glanced at Felix’s profile, but the other man wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “You didn’t have to mention Moira Harper when you first came to me as a client,” Max pointed out. “You were the one to put her on my radar. She ended up being the connecting thread.”

  Felix laughed uneasily. “You think I was trying to sabotage myself? Subconsciously? Or was it a cry for help?” His smile faded. “I knew this was bad from the beginning. I just didn’t have the guts to stop it.”

  “The photos look good,” Max remarked, keeping his tone light.

  “It’s getting there,” Felix said brightly, seizing the change of subject. “I’m not happy with a few things. Just give me another hour.”

  He seemed obsessed with getting this right, perhaps believing that only perfection would atone for his sins. Max had no problem with that.

  “What do you want me to say to your father when it’s ready?” Felix asked.

  “Leave that to me. I appreciate that you’re willing to risk your career, but that may not be necessary. The threat of your exposure may be all that’s required to put a stop to this circus.”

  “Alright. If you believe that’s for the best. I’m still filing for bankruptcy and putting my resume together just in case.” Felix’s laugh was hollow. “It’s been a long time since I worked a nine to five for someone else. It’s going to take some adjustment.”

  “Hold off on all of that just yet. I have an assignment for you.”

  Felix’s eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “Assignment?”

&
nbsp; “I’ll fill you in on the details later. Keep working. I need to speak with Ethan.”

  When he entered the bathroom, Ethan was still at the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Max couldn’t tell from his expression what he was thinking. It was rare when he couldn’t read him.

  “Are you alright?” Max asked quietly, so as not to startle him.

  Green eyes shifted in the mirror to look at him. “It’s been a rough day. It’s not over, either.”

  “When it comes to threats against you and me, it is over, Ethan. I won’t allow anything or anyone to come between us.”

  “And years from now, when you’re the assistant manager of a Costco? Will you resent me then for taking away your opportunity?”

  “First of all, I would be the manager, not the assistant. Secondly, my shop would have the highest sales in the nation.” When Ethan snorted, Max moved up behind him and began massaging his shoulders. “I meant what I said earlier. Business no longer defines me. What you and I share is the only thing I live for.”

  “I’m sorry your father is so terrible,” Ethan said. “But…I’m glad that you’re with me because at least I know I can give you everything he didn’t.”

  A great pressure inside Max’s chest slowly eased.

  “Yes,” he said gratefully. “You already have.”

  Ethan searched Max’s face in the mirror. “Do you really believe he’ll let this go?”

  Max stroked his fingers across the other man’s nape. “This incident was a cry for help. Therefore, I’m going to help him, though it may not be the response he was expecting.”

  “Cryptic. It’s a good thing I’m a trusting guy.” Ethan leaned back into Max and pulled his arms around his waist. “Do me a favor and hold me. Hold me and don’t ever let go.”

  Max tugged him closer and pressed his cheek to Ethan’s. “I will never, ever let you go.”

  Epilogue

  “I gotta tell you, Maxmillian. You know how to turn a shit hand into a winning one.”

  Maxmillian’s smile was thin and sharp. He tapped one knee idly, though he was anything but relaxed.

  “Yes, Mr. Felix did an excellent job with the new Elite Poole Worldwide campaign,” he drawled. “It sends precisely the message it needs to.”

  Axelrod Randolph smiled wryly as he returned his attention to the mockups of the upcoming ads.

  “I can’t help feeling like I helped make this happen,” the billionaire remarked. “If I hadn’t made that announcement about you and Ethan at my party you would never have come up with a promotion like this. I mean, look at you two. You’re a pair of rock stars. This should have been your marketing campaign from the beginning. Basically what I’m saying is—you’re welcome.”

  Max’s smile remained thin as the other man chuckled.

  In Randolph’s hands were the results of the photoshoot Max had requested of Merrick Felix after the near catastrophe involving Max’s father. The shoot was Max’s idea, his attempt to regain control of the narrative of his and Ethan’s lives. With thoughtful planning and the help of Felix’s artistic eye, they’d manage to come up with a campaign that showcased Max and Ethan’s attractiveness while still projecting the masculinity and power that was expected in the security industry.

  “These are damn sexy, and I say that as a one hundred percent hetero man.” Randolph held up the ad featuring Max taking aim down the lane of a shooting range—the one owned by his friend William Hilcox. Thanks to careful lighting, the image came across as mysterious and sensual and yet managed to project competence and authority at the same time. “You look like James Bond here. I’m thinking of hiring you myself!”

  He shuffled through the oversized boards until he came to one featuring Ethan, standing in profile as though scrutinizing a distant threat off-camera. One hand rested on the stock of his holstered weapon, the position lifting his suit coat out of the way to reveal his trim abdomen and muscular chest.

  “Guys and girls are going to be ringing up the agency for Ethan once they get a load of this. Might receive a few calls from talent agents, too, so be ready for that. Let me know when that happens. I have some recommendations.”

  “Noted,” Max murmured, his eyes narrowed as Randolph picked out another ad board.

  “But this one takes the cake.” Randolph tapped the image of Max and Ethan posing as though they were standing guard in front of a faceless woman in a red, slinky dress. Shadows surrounded them, soft and ominous at the same time. “The two of you look like Secret Service meets Mission Impossible meets Fifty Shades of Grey. How much you want to bet this one garners the biggest response? Say a thousand? Ten k? Give me a number.”

  “How about a quarter of a million?”

  Randolph gaped at him, the boards falling from his slack grip and onto his desk. “I’m a gambling man but that’s a little rich—”

  “That’s how much you stand to make from your contract with Coastal Indy. I figure that’s only play money to you in light of your most recent deal.”

  Randolph slowly leaned forward, his forearms coming to rest on the desktop. “I’d ask how you learned of the amount, but I’ve learned to save my breath with you. You know everything, don’t you?”

  “I’ve learned quite a bit, yes.” Max heard the steel in his own voice.

  “If this is about your company picking up the security contract for that event, I’m working on it just like you asked. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “And what about your other lucrative deal? Will there be a problem there?”

  “What other deal?”

  “The one you made via your third corporation, Tier One Productions.” Max stared intently at Randolph. “I admit to not being privy to the financials on that deal, but I assume they’re on the high side. My father deals only in large numbers.”

  Randolph held the stare, but his skin had paled at the mention of Philip Poole. He sat back slowly, as though gathering himself.

  “You weren’t supposed to make the connection. Did that Harper woman tell you?”

  Max’s mouth twisted with distaste at Randolph’s admission.

  “You offered to be my mentor,” Max pointed out very quietly, his rage contained, but smoldering. “This is hardly the behavior of an ally.”

  “Ah.” Randolph shook his head and sighed. He even smiled a bit. “Funny thing about that. When I clawed my way out of a studio apartment in New Jersey with two hundred dollars in my bank account, guess how much help I received?” He laughed, the sound tinged with bitterness. “No one would give me a loan. None of the bigshots would answer a call from someone who was earnest and willing to bust his butt for them. Whatever happened to being young and hungry? None of the big boys gave a shit. I had to do it myself. Pull up the ol’ bootstraps and get it done. And I did. Goddamn, did I do it. And if I can do it, I expect anyone who dares to call himself a businessman to do it, too.”

  “So the speeches about finding your next superstar were all theater. A way to ingratiate yourself to me.”

  “I’m not here to hold your hand. I’m not running a charity. If you want to run with the big boys, you have to be able to keep up.”

  Max said very clearly, “What does that have to do with selling me out to my father?”

  “Money. It has to do with money. You’ve got a real piece for a father, Maxmillian. He’s offering me prime real estate in major European cities at pennies on the dollar.”

  “In exchange for ruining me.”

  “In exchange for encouraging you to see things his way. I view this as repairing a broken father-son relationship.”

  Max uncrossed his legs and sat forward. “You were willing to break up my marriage and harm my business for cheap real estate. Forget about the questionable morality of your actions, which are beyond the pale. What happened to the man who loves a challenge and who thinks he can turn any business into a blockbuster?” He gave Randolph an unflattering once-over, causing the man to stiffen. “Those days are over for you, aren’t they
? The flipside of unimaginable wealth is unrelenting boredom. These days you’re spending more time partying than working. You’re not a businessman. You’re a self-indulgent, wannabe celebrity.”

  “Don’t try to put a negative spin on being a billionaire, Maxmillian. It won’t work.”

  “Then perhaps I’ll put a negative spin on you personally. Wealth has made you selfish and distant. The more you earn, the less you empathize with those around you. Oh, you’ll throw money at a project just to see what happens, but income isn’t your true motivator these days, is it?”

  “You’re finally getting warmer.” Randolph smirked. “Boredom is a symptom of a small mind. I have a large mind, which is why I’m interested in more complicated challenges, such as influencing human nature.”

  A chill moved through Max. While he had come to suspect that the older man had been attempting to manipulate him, he hadn’t realized Randolph had been doing so to entertain himself.

  “In the end, life is a game, right?” Randolph continued. “Each step is another move on the chess board and if you’re rich enough and powerful enough, you’re the one making those moves. So I did. I demanded that you and Ethan never appear in public together. I nearly had you on that one. I thought for sure he wouldn’t go for it and he’d dump you.

  “But you countered me by outing yourself to your agents, so I had to go bigger, go public. I told the world you’re balling men. That should have created enough strain on your marriage to break you apart. Should have.” He shook his head regretfully. “But I underestimated what kind of competitor you are. You kept your head down and continued fighting. That’s when your father suggested digging into Ethan’s past. We came up with a doozy of a plan with that ex-boyfriend of his. A little outlandish, sure, but that was part of the fun.” He leaned forward, matching Max’s aggressive body language. “Yet that’s not going to work either, is it? I wonder what we’ll need to try next. I’ve never had so much fun playing with someone’s life.”