Still, she needed her coffee fix. She padded over to the kitchen and went about brewing the coffee, took her phone off the charger, and turned it on.
Tinkerbelle sounded again from her cell phone, alerting her to another text message. She peered at her phone. Yep, she remembered now Brad had sent her a text last night.
Can you meet me for a coffee tomorrow afternoon? I’d like to return your novels and see how you’re doing.
Right. Like he cared. More realistically, his latest conquest had fallen through. It’d been six weeks since she’d broken it off with Brad, her boyfriend of three years. He changed her outlook on men for the rest of her life. How would she ever learn to trust again? To love again?
Therein lay the problem with Max. With his schedule of traveling the world, his very well-known reputation of non-commitment and his string of doting women following him about Felicity wasn’t sure if she wanted to risk her heart—or waste her time.
Felicity stirred the pancake batter with her mixer as it splashed all over the counter and cabinets. Jenny crutched her way into the tiny kitchen and put her finger in the bowl taking up a good amount of pancake batter and put it in her mouth. “Mmm, good. Love the taste.” She dipped her finger in again.
Felicity swatted it away.
“You could get sick from eating the raw batter.” Felicity made her way to the stove, checking on the bacon already brought to a nice crisp, the way Jenny liked it. Then she started pouring perfectly sized pancakes on the skillet.
“You’re in a good mood. How’d things go with Mr. Famous?”
“Oh fine.”
Jenny poured a glass of OJ and persisted, “You gotta give me more than that.”
“Honestly, I can’t figure out if Max thinks of me as just another one of his women or a friend with potential benefits.”
“Huh?” Jenny jumped on a chair at the bar.
“Like a conquest, casual date, someone to wine and dine and subsequently leave. He obviously has no time for a relationship. He’ll be off to some foreign country doing his movies or worldly goods before we could have a chance to start anything serious.”
Jenny picked out one of the roses Max had given Felicity and took in a deep breath. “Seems like he’s willing to make more of an effort than most guys.”
“I also have the conflict of working with him.”
“But you said he’s been laying off the work scene, taking a back seat.”
“It’s true.” Felicity flipped the pancakes. “Maybe I should simply nip any possibility for a relationship in the bud before it budded.”
“Why are you being your own naysayer?”
Felicity put the pancakes on a serving platter along with the bacon and placed them on the breakfast bar. She grabbed her cup of coffee and sat across from Felicity.
“Maybe I am.”
“I say go for it. He obviously has the hots for you.”
“As a matter of fact, he asked me to brunch today.”
“See, I told ya!” Jenny hit Felicity on the shoulder.
Felicity feared she had more of the hots for Max than he her. And that would totally suck.
Max awoke with a warm glow, which lingered from the previous night with Felicity. She got to him. Max wished he could settle down with a woman. Thirty-five was looming around the corner. But, heck, in Hollywood years he was still considered a baby and at the pinnacle of his career.
He put on a pair of designer jeans and a polo shirt. It was a beautiful day. He planned to pick Felicity up with the new Porsche. Maybe they’d take it for a drive on Pacific Coast highway with the top down and let the sun sink in.
Once at Felicity’s apartment, Max knocked and she opened the door with a dreamy smile and wearing a pink sundress, her hair full of loose curls. Max appreciated her natural, lightly made-up face. A refreshing contrast to most of the Hollywood women he’d dated.
Before she said word one, Max pulled Felicity in for a deep kiss. He couldn’t resist. Just the feel of her soft lips against his awoke an unintended physical reaction. An awakening he’d tried to hide numerous times the previous night.
Chill out, man. This would be only their official date number two. Or three, counting the first dinner out. Or four, counting their first encounter at the emergency room.
No, those didn’t count.
Max chuckled at his own teenage ramblings. He brushed his hand on Felicity’s cheek. “You’re beautiful.”
Felicity seemed shy. She had an adorable, innocent appearance as she withdrew from his arms. It was ironic that such a fiercely independent and driven woman could be self-conscious in a tender moment. “Thanks. I had a great time last night.”
“As did I.” Max glanced around her apartment. “Where are the dogs and Jenny?”
“Oh she went out with her friends to a picnic and took the dogs with her.”
“Ready then?”
“Yup.” She grabbed her bag from the couch and they were off.
Max observed Felicity checking out his cherry-red X17 Porsche. She seemed mildly impressed, but he could see she tried not to show it too much. He’d had it detailed for the occasion.
“Nice wheels. How many of these do you have?”
“Two. Thanks. I thought it’d be a perfect day to drive with the top down.”
“I agree.”
On the way to the restaurant she asked, “Do you mind if we stop at a convenience store? I need to get bottled water.”
“Sure, no problem.” Max pulled into a Circle K and offered to get it for her but she insisted on getting it herself. She needed to pick up “something else”, probably girl’s stuff.
He heard a sound, like Tinkerbelle. He spotted her cell phone, which she’d left behind on her seat. Max supposed the sound had to be her cell phone alert. It went off two or three times. Max didn’t want to pry but his eyes inadvertently went to the flashing light. The display read ‘Text from Brad.’
Normally Max wouldn’t dare touch someone else’s property. Yet, curiosity got the better of him. Besides, didn’t she say her old boyfriend’s name was Brad?
He tapped the text indicator key and the message read:
Felice, maybe you didn’t get my text. I really need to meet with you. It’s important, babe. Besides, I found those books you wanted. Meet me at the Starbucks at two.
Hmmm. So, she had been in touch with him. Not that it was any of Max’s business. Yet she’d claimed it’d been a clean break.
The context of the message seemed to imply they communicated . . . possibly often.
Maybe Max had let his insecurity get the better of him. And this kind of insecurity was not something he’d been accustomed to. He knew he behaved childishly by reading the text, yet the thought of Felice reuniting with Brad niggled his mind.
He couldn’t blame Brad for trying. Felicity was one heck of a catch.
Felicity returned to the car after getting her bottled water and Kotex. Unfortunately, nature called at the most inopportune moments. Her cell phone indicated she had a text. She pressed the back light button and it was Brad. For the third time since last night! Why was he being so persistent? She tried like hell to close that chapter of her life for good, yet he attempt to draw her back to it.
Maybe she should find out what he wanted and get the business over with. Later. She’d deal with it then. She didn’t want to destroy her afternoon with this handsome man.
Oh no.
The thought occurred to her that Max could have seen the text. Her fault for leaving the cell phone behind. Could he care that much to have wanted to check her message?
It’d been a little prying but shoot, she wouldn’t have minded. How flattering if Maxwell Marx would be so concerned.
Just in case, she thought to address the issue. “Sorr
y if I seem distracted.” She waived her cell phone in the air. “I hate when people keep checking their texts when in the company of others and here I’m doing it. It’s my ex. He found some books I’d left behind and—”
Max seemed to let out a sigh of relief. He took her hand and squeezed it. “No, it’s me who needs to apologize. I heard the persistent alert tone and well, curiosity got the better of me and I took a little peek.”
“It’s okay. The notification sound is a bit loud. I can’t figure how to adjust the volume.”
“I’ll look at it for you. So you’re still in touch?” Max gave her a sidelong glance.
The question sent her heart reeling. He cares!
“No, not at all. I did leave behind a few precious books in my rush to leave our apartment and asked him to contact me if he found them. We haven’t talked since I left.”
“Gotcha. Sorry, I shouldn’t have pried.”
The welcoming sun beat down on Felicity. Max’s hand was in hers and all was good with the world. They continued the rest of the way to the restaurant in a comfortable peaceful silence.
Even though it was a lone ocean bistro on an isolated stretch of the drive, Boswell’s was crowded. Max escorted Felicity through the back door and a man who introduced himself as Sam led them to a table in a private room. Max’s fame certainly had its advantages.
“Another private room?” Felicity asked.
Max’s deep dimples revealed themselves in his broad smile. Felicity liked to see Max happy. At times, she detected a somber haunted look in his eyes and wondered where it originated. Beneath the cool exterior of Hollywood’s famous bachelor there existed a story. One in which she’d hoped to uncover.
“It’s the only way to go.” Max pulled her chair out for her to sit.
Sam gave them the menus and took their drink order. Max asked Felicity if she wanted a Mimosa.
“I think I’d like to leave the champagne out of the brunch today. I’ll have some Earl Grey Tea.”
“Sounds good. Never know what tonight will bring.” He took her hand and kissed it.
Chills ran up and down her spine at the sound of Max’s deep timber and the touch of his lips against her hand. She didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.
Sam returned with drinks and having had time to glance at the menu Felicity asked Max to order for them.
Max leaned forward, “It’s nice to dine with you, the morning after.”
She could only imagine what a real morning after would be like with him. Sexy dog.
“. . . I’d like to spend every weekend with you if I could, but duty will invariably call me away in the movie business. I can’t complain, though, I love it.”
“Where will you go next?” Felicity asked.
“I’ve got that gig in New York, and then I’m here for the rest of the year. To England at the first of the year, though.”
“I wonder how it will be to do a feature after all the spy and action stuff.”
Max shook his head and he placed his coffee cup down. “I’m doing it as a favor for Charlotte. She’s asked me to help promote her business. It’s for some kind of tourist channel show and several individually-owned upscale restaurants will be featured.”
Hmmm. Yet, another female friend who needed help. “I sure hope we can get her on Executive Women.”
Max studied her, his dark eyes penetrating. She couldn’t tell what he had on his mind but it felt like his thoughts were in her favor. “I think Charlotte will be a good fit for your show . . .”
It was the first time he referred to Executive Women as HER show. Felicity liked how it sounded.
“. . . as I promised I’ll scope it out for you.” He winked.
And his wink was all it took. A little wink from his devilishly handsome face. She wanted to climb onto his lap. But, she had to remind herself to go easy.
Felicity had a sneaking suspicion if she didn’t get him in bed soon someone else might. She knew it was an insecure thought. Then, probably no woman could get Maxwell Marx, including her.
But why?
Sam delivered their steaming hot meals. The scent of the omelets and fresh baked multi-grained wheat bread ignited her taste buds. She realized she’d been hungry especially since she passed on the pancakes she made for Jenny earlier.
They busied themselves with the meal. Felicity got up her nerve to broach the subject of his travel. “So, how long will you be gone on your new gig in England?”
“I don’t believe the location shot will be more than a couple of months.”
A couple of months?
He continued, “I’m not sure. I don’t have anything else lined up. But then, you never know with Saul.”
“Saul?”
“My ever-surprising agent. He always has a couple projects up his sleeve.”
Right. She’d forgotten about Saul Griffin, Hollywood’s high-demand booking agent for the stars. “Guess he keeps you on your toes.”
The conversation for the remainder of the meal was mundane but pleasant. He appeared guarded like a poker player hiding his cards. It was as though he’d been unsure of his next move.
He lived in another world. Way out of her league. But she couldn’t imagine not pursuing a connection with him.
Considering the years she idolized him from afar, she had previously felt like a would-be stalker. Now, the attraction appeared to be mutual. Otherwise, he wouldn’t go to the lengths he had to date her. Didn’t Katie Holms dream of marrying Tom Cruise before she became a star? Of course, the marriage ended in divorce. And that’s Hollywood.
Felicity sure didn’t want to fit into another Tinsel town statistic. She craved a normal life with a normal, regular guy. Regular was one adjective that did not fit Max, at all. What did she set herself up for?
Regardless, Felicity had to interact with Max because of Sharpen.
But weren’t they way beyond a professional connection?
Maybe Max wanted another commitment-less fling? If she could even consider it a fling.
Max thought brunch at Boswell’s was interesting at best, yet troubling on many levels. While Felicity cleared up the possibility she might still be hung up on her ex-boyfriend, he still had doubts about getting involved with her.
Yet . . . he felt inexorably attracted to her.
As he held her hand, he noted Felicity’s questioning, even hungered expression. A look he recognized in many women, young and old, who wanted him.
Still, he couldn’t resist touching Felicity. Stealing kisses every chance he could get. His hands craved to feel her skin.
Max wanted to make the day last forever. After brunch, they took a long drive along the Pacific Coast Highway. The drive required precision driving especially with the new car. The combination of the ocean breezes and the speed gave him an opportunity to put the new car to the test. Maybe even impress his companion.
“Do you have a need to get home any time soon?” Max asked. “The dogs? Jenny?”
“No. Jenny planned to study at home today after the picnic. So she’ll hold the fort down. Why?”
Her hair blew in the wind shaping her face with dewy beauty. It drove him wild. “I thought it’d be nice to keep driving along the coast for the rest of the day. Maybe take in a long walk on the beach and then have an early dinner at Rosie’s on the Cape.”
“I don’t see why not.”
Relieved she agreed to the invite, he relaxed, knowing he’d have her company for the entire day.
Felicity didn’t want the date to end and she’d been thrilled Max wanted to extend it into evening.
The drive was long but peaceful. Felicity didn’t want to let Max’s hand go and she hungered for more of his passionate kisses.
They pulled off the road to an isolated
beach. Max popped the trunk and took out a basket and a blanket.
He had this planned!
“I came prepared. Just in case. A little wine, cheese, and we can watch the sunset.” Max pinched her cheek.
Or lay in the sand.
The temperature dropped as the sun began to dip but the heat grew inside Felicity. She could melt right into Max as he wrapped her under his arm. The sun splayed dark orange hues of orange, blue, and purple along the horizon licking the ocean. Seabirds swooped to the water’s surface in search of dinner. Small finches ran up to the receding waves in search of morsels to snack on.
How could anything top this moment?
“Let’s sit over there for a while.” Max pointed to a dune close to the ocean’s edge.
“Sure.” Max could have suggested they do just about anything and in that moment Felicity would blissfully agree. The beach was barren except for the wildlife. Right then and there she’d come to a conclusion she feared would be inevitable. She was falling in love with Maxwell Marx! Yes, for years she thought she loved him, when she knew him only as a movie star. Now, being in his presence in this sheer intimacy, she knew there’d be no going back. She’d hold on for dear life. She hugged and cuddled on the blanket with him.
He turned her on her back and kissed her with a veracity she’d never experienced. His tongue twirled with hers, demanding more space, which she willingly gave. Max soon lay fully on top of her, his hardness pressed against her center. He felt so incredibly good.
Dream Man (Executive Women in Love Book 1) Page 10