by Alexa Davis
"You're a great fake fiancée; you know that, don't you?" he laughed.
"I'm doing my best to be nice to the boss who finds me so valuable," I said quietly. Max looked up at me and for a moment, I seriously thought about leaning down and kissing those soft, full lips. It wouldn't have taken much for me to do it, but good sense won out and I cleared my throat before asking, "Need anything else right now?"
"No, I'm good. Thank you, Lexi," he said as he dug into the plate of chicken tikka and then drank deeply from the bottle I'd left on his desk. "I'll come out as soon as I'm done and give you a break."
"No worries," I said as I tried very hard to calm the storm that was brewing inside and tamp down the ache I felt every time I was near him. "I'm good. All good."
After lunch, we worked together on the sales floor until around three o'clock, when I packed up my things and told him I was heading out for my audition. I double and tripled checked that I had my script and made sure that I knew exactly where I was going before I headed out the door.
"Break a leg, fiancée," Max deadpanned as I pushed the door open.
"I'll do my best, Mr. Malin," I smiled as I stepped out into the sunshine and headed toward yet another possible future.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Max
Without Lexi in the showroom, the store felt empty, and I was rather surprised by how such a small person could fill such a large space. I busied myself polishing the display cases and making phone calls from the sales floor. Just before closing, I looked up to see a familiar face enter.
"Hello, Papa," I said warily as I watched my father scan the store and then look back at me. There was something dark in his eyes, and I knew from experience that he was either angry or, worse, drunk.
"Maksimka!" my father called as he walked toward me. "Why are you staying away from me?"
"What are you talking about?" I asked as I stood still behind a display case that I'd been polishing. "I just came and saw you a few days ago."
"Come give your Papa a big hug, Maksimka!" he bellowed. He was drunk, and now I knew how to deal with him, but it was going to be tricky. One wrong move and there would be hell to pay. I walked over and wrapped my arms around him hugging him tightly.
"I'm glad you could come visit the store, Papa," I lied.
"No you're not, don't lie to me, Maksim," he said in a voice that made me recoil. He was angry with me already and nothing I could do would placate him. I was going to have to weather whatever it was he was here to deliver and then walk away. I glanced around the showroom and sent up a silent prayer that he wouldn't do anything violent. "Moj syn, moj syn, moj syn, what are you doing here? What are you doing in a place like this? This is the place of the rich boys who have no balls, the weak and soft. What is a strong boy like you doing here, Maksim?"
I knew he was baiting me, so I held back and listened. He wanted something, this much I knew already, but specifically what he wanted, I had no idea. I knew that if I listened, he'd eventually tell me.
"Ah, this is beautiful, very Russian," he said as he walked around the showroom, peering into display cases and clicking his tongue. "You've picked out the best of the best, haven't you? Very nice. Your mother loved these kinds of pieces. She always asked me to find her favorites."
My heart started racing as he began speaking about my mother. This was a conversation I did not want to have because I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my cool if he started spewing his self-righteous tale of love and destiny. In my mind, he was responsible for my mother's death, and nothing he could ever say would change that fact, but I wasn't about to challenge him on it when he was drunk.
"Yes, Papa," I said.
"What? You don't believe me?" he yelled. "I always brought your mother a beautiful piece of jewelry when I traveled!"
"Yes, Papa," I repeating the phrase I'd learned was the only way to walk the line with him when he was like this. When I was fifteen, I'd made the mistake of trying to buck him when he was drunk, and he'd given me a lesson that left a scar across the side of my abdomen where he'd sliced me with a knife when I'd given him a flip response to a question that he'd considered serious in his drunken state. After that, I'd learned simply to respond with a simple "Yes, Papa," and never look him in the eye.
"You're such a wise guy, you know," he said as he leaned on a display case tapping the glass with his thick, dirty fingertip. "You think you can escape into this life? You think you're so much better than your brother and I, don't you? You move away from the neighborhood, buy a place in the rich part of town, and open this shop thinking you can escape and avoid the bratán. But you can't, Maksim."
"Yes, Papa," I said warily, eyeing his shoes and dirty work pants.
"Don't YES PAPA ME!" he bellowed as he slammed his fist down into the display case, causing the jewelry inside to rattle and shift. The cases were made of shatterproof glass – a safety measure that I was now very glad I'd invested in. "Don't give me the wise-guy yes Papa bullshit, Maksim! I'm your father and I deserve respect!"
"I understand, Papa," I said, trying to avoid enraging him further, but he wasn't having it tonight and he flew across the floor and launched himself at me, fists flying as he sought out a way to let go of the rage and pain. I stepped back and he fell on the floor in front of me at my feet. "Papa, please…" I said as I stretched out my hand to try and help him up.
"Don't!" he growled as he pushed himself up off of the floor and stood staring at me for a long time. "You need to come home, Maksimka. This war is growing worse by the day and we have no one who can lead."
"You are leading, Papa," I said, watching him warily.
"I'm not leading anymore, Maksim. I'm an old man and the young boys don't respect the old ways; they need a new leader. A leader who knows how to speak their language," he said in a voice that was both resigned and rebellious. "I am part of the old country; I don't know what they know. I don't run in the streets like they do or do the things they do. We didn't have cell phones and technology when I ran the vory v zakone when we first came to this country. Everything had changed, Maksim. Everything. It's time for new."
"Three months, Papa," I said, knowing that I had to stick to my guns or he would break me down and ruin any chance I had of getting out for good. I felt sad for my father, but there was nothing I could do to change what he'd been through or where he was headed. He'd made his own bed, now it was time for him to lie in it.
"We may not have three months, Maksim," my father replied quietly. "I know you think I'm trying to trick you or trap you into coming back, but the truth is that we don't have a lot of time. They young ones are killing each other in the streets and we need to stop it. We need someone who can negotiate a truce and keep the boys under an iron fist so that they don't run the business into the ground."
"Papa, you promised me three months," I said in a tone that gave away neither anger nor sympathy. "I'm going to do this for three months and then if I can't earn my first million, I will sell the shop and come back."
"You are a hard boy, Maksimka," my father said. 'You've always been a hard boy, not like Kristov. He's tough, but he's not hard and hard is what we need to maintain a hold on the business."
"I understand, Papa," I nodded. "Three months."
My father nodded and then turned and slowly walked toward the front door. When he reached it, he stopped and turned around to look at me.
"I know you think I am responsible for your mother's death, Maksim," he said quietly as he shook his head sadly. "I'm not. I loved your mother than life itself. I would never have hurt her, but whether or not you choose to believe that is always up to you. I'm just your father." And with that, he turned and walked out the door.
When it clicked behind him, I quickly walked over and turned the lock so that no one else could come in and then I went back to the office and sat with my head in my hands until the pounding in my chest slowed and my hands were no longer shaking.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THIRTY
Lexi
When I exited the theater after my audition, Max's driver was waiting for me. In the backseat was a post-audition kit: a cold bottle of water, a small box of Vosges chocolates, and a bouquet of pink roses that smelled like they'd just been cut. Among the roses, Max had tucked a note that said, "Celebrating your success tonight! Dinner on me! -M"
I laughed and inhaled deeply before popping a dark chili chocolate into my mouth and savoring its bittersweet flavor. I replayed the audition as the car moved toward home and knew I had nailed the part, at least as far as I could tell. The director had told me that they wanted to call me back the next day for another audition with the actor who would play George. It felt like everything was going my way for a change.
It was dark by the time I arrived home, and as I slipped the key into the elevator and turned it, I sighed knowing that soon I would be able to shed the dress and heels I'd been wearing since early this morning and relax. When the elevator doors slid open, I gasped.
Max had prepared the place for my arrival, but he was nowhere to be seen. In the living room there was a bucket of ice with a bottle of expensive champagne chilling in it and a note that read, "Sip me now," along with another bouquet of roses, this time coral, and an enormous gift box wrapped in gold foil, tied with a shiny black bow. The card on it said, "Open me now."
I set my champagne down and opened the box as directed. In it was a gorgeous maxi dress in the same shade of coral as the roses. The note on the card inside the box read, "Wear me now." I laughed as I grabbed my glass of bubbly and walked to my bedroom, where I quickly stripped down and stepped into the shower. Once I'd scrubbed off the day, I dried myself, smoothed on a lightly scented lotion that made me smell like summer, and slipped into the beautiful dress.
I appraised myself in the mirror and smiled as I looked at my reflection from all angles and realized that Max had done the impossible: He'd picked out a dress that fit me like a glove. It wrapped around me to create a deep v between my breasts and was tightly fitted so that it hugged them and made them look bigger than they were. The waist was fitted with light layers of fabric cascading down to the ground around my feet, where it swirled like a cloud around my ankles. The effect was magical, and I grinned at myself as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, pinning my damp hair up into a loose pile on top of my head before fastening the necklace that Max had given me on my first day of work around my neck.
I stood back and laughed. I looked and felt like a princess going to the ball when, in fact, I was only heading into the kitchen for dinner. It didn't matter. What mattered was that I looked and felt beautiful, and I had Max to thank for that. I quickly scanned the room for Anna, and when I didn't find her, I walked down the hall to check Max's room. There, in the center of his huge bed, was my tiny gray kitten fast asleep. I left the door cracked open and walked back out past the living room into the kitchen.
"Max?" I called out as I stuck my head around the corner. There was no response, but on the counter I found a plate with four bacon wrapped figs dripping with a mystery sauce. Next to the plate was a note that read, "Eat one now and bring the rest to the balcony." I popped a fig in my mouth and was overwhelmed by the delicious combination of sweet and savory flavors, then I grabbed the plate and walked out to the balcony.
"Max?" I called again before I saw him standing against the far railing, his back to the city with the lights outlining his body. He was wearing light-colored shirt and pants, which set off his toned body. His hair was down and messy, the way I liked it, and was blowing in the light breeze that passed over the upper floor of the building. He held out a glass of wine and smiled as walked toward me.
"You look stunning," he told me as he offered the wine. I took it as I smiled up at him. "But then, I think you'd look stunning no matter what you put on."
"You're such a charmer, Mr. Malin," I said as I held his gaze. There was something different about him, something softer. I wasn't sure what had happened while I was away for the afternoon, but I was pretty sure I liked it.
"How was the audition?" he asked as he took the plate of figs from my hand and set it on the table he'd set up outside. It was covered in a pristine white cloth and set with what appeared to be dinner. He motioned for me to sit down as he pulled out my chair and helped me get seated. Then, he took his place across the small table and lifted the silver covers on each of our plates. I inhaled sharply as I saw the perfectly prepared individual paellas full of rice, vegetables, and a wide array of seafood.
"Did you make this?" I asked, stunned at the beauty of the dish and its intoxicating scent.
"I did, indeed," he smiled. "I'm more than just a ruthless businessman, you know."
"I never said you were ruthless!" I protested laughing. "And, I knew you could whip up a simple meal, but this?"
"I am a man of many talents, fiancée," he said. I looked across the table and saw that he was watching me closely with those mesmerizing blue eyes, and I smiled as I dropped my gaze to the plate in front of me, picked up my fork, and began to eat.
"Apparently, gourmet chef skills are included in those skills," I said as the delicious flavors exploded in my mouth. "This is delicious. Where did you learn to make something like this?"
"Thank you, my Babi taught me to cook, and she encouraged me to experiment with lots of different types of foods," he said as he chewed. "I particularly like Mediterranean food because it's light and healthy, and it looks so beautiful on the plate. But enough about me, you didn't tell me about the audition."
"It went quite well, I think," I said as I continued eating. "They want me to come back tomorrow and read with the actor who will be playing George."
"That's good!" He smiled and then suddenly, his face fell. "Wait, I'm going to have to let you go early again?"
"That's correct," I nodded, hoping that he wouldn't get mad about it. Then, I grinned at him, "I mean, I could ask for the whole day off, but I won't."
"A whole day off?" he said incredulously. I caught a glimpse of the smile that flitted across his lips and decided that two could play at this game.
"Yes, most normal people get two days off per week," I lectured in a prissy tone. "I haven't asked for any days off yet, so I think you could grant me an afternoon. I mean, unless I need to go to the labor board and file a complaint or something."
"You are one smooth negotiator, lady!" Max burst out laughing and dropped his fork on his plate.
"Thank you, I think," I said as I grinned and kept eating.
"Yes, you can have tomorrow afternoon off, but don't make it a habit," he warned. "We've got a lot of work to do between sales and the wedding plans, and I need you in the store."
"Aye, aye, Captain!" I said as I offered up a mock salute. A dark look crossed Max's face, but was quickly replaced by a smile as he offered me more wine.
We spent the rest of the meal discussing our wedding plans and setting the date so that we could choose various vendors and order things like flowers and the cake. There was a part of me that felt a little confused as we talked about guests and the venue, but I quickly swept my confusion aside as I reminded myself that this was a business deal and that my role was to play the bride. We decided on the first weekend in August, which gave us less than two months to plan the entire event. Max wondered if we shouldn't hire a wedding planner, but I nixed the idea, telling him that I didn't think it was the best idea to involve an outsider in planning a faux wedding.
"Besides, we don't need the added expense," I tossed out.
"Lexi, I don't know how many times I'm going to have to tell you this, but money is not obstacle here," he said as he spooned up the last of his meal.
"I keep forgetting that, sorry," I said, shaking my head. "Why don't you act more like a billionaire?"
"I can't," he said as he cast his eyes downward. "It's not something I can do. Just try to understand that."
"I'm sorry," I repeated quietly. I stood up and started gathering the plates to take them back to the kitchen.
&n
bsp; "Lexi, stop, I have a staff who will do that for us," he said, resting his hand on my arm.
"I'm never going to get used to this," I sighed as I set the plates down and followed him to the far end of the balcony, where we stood looking out over Lake Michigan and enjoying the cool evening breeze.
"Max, why are you doing this?" I asked. We were standing so close, I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He smelled of spices and musk, and I wanted very badly to lean against him and feel his arm around my waist.
"Doing what?" he asked.
"Why are you setting up a fake wedding with a complete stranger, instead of marrying a woman you actually love?"
"Oh, that," he replied quietly. "It's a long complicated story, and I don't want to bore you with it."
"I seriously doubt you could ever bore me," I said as I turned and looked up at his profile. His jaw was flexing as he stared out at the water and I knew he was trying to decide what to tell me. I didn't push; instead, I lifted my arm and lightly rested my hand against his cheek. He leaned into my touch for a few moments before he turned and looked down at me.
"You are so incredibly beautiful," he said as he reached around behind me and slipped his fingers into my hair. He quickly located the few pins I'd used to pile my hair on top of my head and with nimble fingers, he quickly pulled them out, causing my hair to fall down around my shoulders. "I've wanted to do that since the first day."
"Why didn't you?" I whispered.
"I wasn't sure you'd let me." He leaned closer running his fingers through my hair until he was cupping the back of my head and could pull me close enough to feel his breath on my cheek. "I also wanted to do this."
Then, Max Malin lightly brushed his lips across mine before he pulled me to him and kissed me, and I melted.
CHAPTER THRITY-THIRTY ONE
Max
All through dinner, I'd fought back the urge to touch Lexi, and now as we stood on the balcony high above the city, I stopped fighting. I could feel the softness of her body through the fabric of her dress as I pulled her tightly against me. I ran my fingers through her hair and cradled the back of her head as I kissed her deeply, afraid that at any moment, she would stop and push me away.