Her interruption today was just a reminder of the inevitable. Max seemed to like me, but did he like me enough to defy his mom and indulge in behavior that put him a step closer to being the version of his father he disliked? I didn’t want to find out.
If it came down to it and Max had to choose, I would be heartbroken if he didn’t choose me. So it was time to take me out of the equation.
Chapter 19
Emma
The worst part about sleeping with your boss and then having an awkward and embarrassing run in with his overbearing mother is that you can’t escape what happened. I spent all of Sunday ignoring Max’s calls, but it was a fool’s errand.
I could ignore him all I wanted, but come Monday morning I was sitting at my desk just a few feet from his office door. I thought about calling in sick, but that seemed highly unethical, and he would know exactly what was going on, of course.
This was exactly why I didn’t want to do this in the first place! We’d gone too far, only to have things go sour—and leaving me with no place to hide. The only option was to show up or quit, and I couldn’t afford to bail. I also couldn’t imagine myself ever doing something so cowardly, but the temptation was certainly there.
I was a nervous wreck as I walked to my desk Monday morning. I nodded at the people I passed, who smiled back and wished me a good morning like always, completely unaware of the shit storm I’d weathered over the weekend. Max’s door was closed, so I couldn’t even tell whether he was in or not. Maybe he would take the day off and I’d be given a reprieve from this whole situation for the day.
My intercom buzzed the moment I sat down. “Emma, please come see me in my office.”
Or… maybe not.
My heart kicked into overdrive and I ran a hand through my hair as I stood on shaky legs and walked the few steps to his door. Inside, Max was leaning against the front of his desk. I noticed he preferred that position when he wanted to have one of our more personal chats.
“Close the door,” he said, his tone cold. His eyes were also cold. Hell, there was even a frosty breeze blowing through this office, and it wasn’t from the warm spring day outside.
I gulped and closed the door behind me. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, for starters you can tell me why the fuck you haven’t been returning my calls.”
“I was busy yesterday,” I lied.
Max saw right through it. His pinched frown indicated that he was very displeased with the lie.
“Tell me the truth, Emma,” he commanded. “Why were you ignoring me?”
I found it almost impossible to deny this man something he wanted.
“Max,” I sighed, sagging with my back against the door. “Things could never work between us. What are we doing?”
Max pushed off from the desk and walked toward me, stopping halfway across the room. At least he wasn’t crowding me today, which was a good thing for my willpower. I wasn’t sure I could stay strong if he got too close to me, and I think he knew that too.
“I wasn’t aware you were a psychic,” he said, with no trace of humor. “What other predictions can you make? Are the Yankees going to win the World Series this year?”
I frowned. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“So tell me what you mean then,” he retorted. “I’d love to know how you could possibly predict something like that based only on a single unfortunate interaction with my harpy mother.”
It’s not just that,” I replied, shaking my head. “You’ve got to know it’s not just that.”
“Then what else is it?”
I sighed. Getting into this at work seemed wrong, but he was the one paying me, so if he wanted to pay me to argue with him, I guess that was his business.
“We’re two different people, Max. We’re in different worlds.” I stood straight, folding my arms over my chest. “For starters, you don’t ever want to get married. Getting married is something that’s important to me. Then there’s the fact that I simply don’t fit into your life. Nothing indicates that more than what happened with Paulina yesterday, but I’m sure we could find a million other obstacles between us.”
“That’s it? That’s the best you’ve got?”
Max shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped toward me again, closing the distance between us until he towered overhead. I did everything I could not to lean in and wrap my arms around him.
“I don’t give a fuck about any of that,” he said. “I want you. That’s all that matters.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s not the way the world works, Max,” I snapped. “If it were, we wouldn’t need to be having this conversation. I’m not going to be your secret office romance just because you’re not ready to quit me just yet. That’s not fair to me and goes against everything I’ve been working toward.”
Willow would be really proud of me for standing up for myself. I couldn’t wait to tell her about this conversation when I got home, mostly because I couldn’t wait to get home. I could hide in my new bed, if only until tomorrow.
“I don’t want you to be my secret office romance,” he said. “My mother can’t keep setting me up with girls if I’m off the market, so I’m taking myself off the market.”
I furrowed my brow and stared up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
The edges of Max’s mouth quirked and he leaned down toward me just enough to make my heart jump.
“I mean you’re my girlfriend now. Officially.”
I had conflicting feelings about this statement. On the one hand, being Max Westfield’s girlfriend sounded like an actual dream. Even though I was actively trying to end things with him, I still obviously burned for him with every cell of my being. The idea of having him to myself was so tempting that I nearly forgot all about my resolve and jumped into his arms right then and there.
Unfortunately, his statement didn’t give me amnesia. I still remembered that I’d been trying to end things for what I considered to be the best thing for both of us, and he’d just flat out rejected my rejection. That was exactly the kind of uncooperative shit that Max would pull, and I wasn’t having any of it.
“No.”
“No?” Max’s smile fell. “What do you mean?”
“I mean no. As in, no I would not like fries with that or, no I will not be your girlfriend.”
Max ground his teeth as he stared down at me, but I refused to budge. He could stare and stand as close to me as he wanted. I wasn’t going to give in just because he’d made a decision and he was the boss.
“I think what you meant to say is that yes, you will be my girlfriend,” he replied, narrowing his eyes.
“Except I won’t. I told you Max, we wouldn’t work as a couple for any length of time. And I’m not willing to be your decoy girlfriend so your mom stops setting you up on dates.”
“My decoy girlfriend? Are you kidding me?” Max unfolded his arms to rake a hand through his hair, then stepped back and walked over to his desk, leaning against the edge of it again. “Come here.”
I cautiously approached, staying a few feet back. His eyes flashed with irritation, but instead of commanding me again, he reached for my waist and moved me himself, setting me on top of his desk like a paperweight. Then he stood in front of me, so close that my knees grazed the tops of his thighs. He leaned in, placing a hand on either side of me to hold me in place. The whole time I was as limp as a rag doll and hated myself for it.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my heart racing at the intimate position.
“I’m clarifying some points and making another.”
His face hovered inches above mine, and my lips ached for his kiss. Being this close to him was scrambling my brain.
“My decision to make you my girlfriend is not based on my desire to keep my mother off my back. It’s a side benefit, sure, but the fact is that I just want you, Emma. I want you all to myself, and the thought of any other man lay
ing a finger on you makes me feel sick. Is that understood?”
I stared up at him. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean I agree.”
“That’s the thing,” he said. “You do agree. You want me too, and I’m willing to bet that the thought of me with another woman isn’t your perfect fantasy either.”
I couldn’t deny that he had a point there. If any of the dates his mom arranged ended up being successful, it would break me.
Max moved closer, nudging my thighs apart to stand between them. I gasped. His desk was tall and we were now almost perfectly face to face. This gave me a prime view of the lust as it blossomed in his eyes. I was trapped, but I wasn’t afraid. I could never actually feel scared around Max. Though that might have been preferable to how turned on I was.
“You don’t know what I want, Max. If you did, you wouldn’t be doing this.”
“Prove it.” His breath tickled my cheek, and I had to forcibly remind myself to take a breath of my own.
“Is me telling you not enough?” I asked.
His smile slayed me. I nearly fainted back against the top of the desk right then and there.
“No, it’s not. I’m a man of action.”
“Then how can I prove it to you?”
His lip curled, “Kiss me.”
“Excuse me?” I blinked. “How is that going to prove that we’re not a good fit?”
“It won’t,” he said. “Which is exactly my point. But if you kiss me and afterward you can still tell me that you don’t want this, I’ll drop it. It shouldn’t be so hard if you’re that determined.”
I gulped. It was going to be very hard. I wasn’t even sure it was possible. How could I kiss this gorgeous, amazing man without turning into a puddle at his feet? Still, I had to try.
“Fine,” I snapped. “Come get it.”
Max swooped down, his lips mashing against mine with such intensity that I moaned without meaning to. He kept his hands on the desk, and I got the feeling it was less to do with caging me in and more to do with resisting the temptation to touch me, because as soon as I started kissing him back with my own brand of fire, he leaned around me to sweep the papers off his desk and then guided me down onto my back.
I kept meaning to stop him. I kept meaning to stand up for my decision. The only problem was that my decision didn’t make sense to me anymore. The only thing that made sense was his hot mouth on mine, his body pressed over the top of me, his hardening length grinding against my sensitive mound. This was the wildest thing I’d ever done, and I couldn’t believe I was doing it. His tongue speared into my mouth, dominating me. I moaned again. I lifted my hands to push him away, but ended up pulling him closer instead, my fists bunching in the front of his shirt.
Waves of arousal washed over me, dragging me further and further under his spell. It was pure magic. Pure ecstasy.
And then it was over.
Max lifted himself off me and stepped back, sucking in a breath like it was taking all his will power to do so. I lay panting on the desk, and it took me a second before I could sit up.
“So?” his voice was gravelly and thick. It stroked me like a feather.
I licked my lips, longing to get another taste of him. “So, I suppose you’ve made your point.”
“And?”
I coughed. “And... oh Christ, Max, are you going to make me say it?”
He folded his arms. “I want to hear you say you want me and that we should be together,” he said, smugly. “I won’t be satisfied until I hear the words tumble from that pretty little mouth of yours. And you will not leave this office until I’m satisfied.” He grinned sardonically. “Unless you want to stay with your earlier demand, that is. In which case, you’re free to go.”
I clenched my thighs together when I thought about the ways he might try to stop me from leaving. Could we get away with screwing in here? Was that acceptable office etiquette when it came to the CEO and his girlfriend?
“Fine,” I snapped. “I want you. I want to be with you. For now, nothing else matters.”
I meant what I said, but that didn’t mean I was happy to have to admit it like that.
“Good girl.” Max strode toward me, pushing me back down on the desk with a roughness that both surprised and delighted me. “And you know what good girls get, baby?”
I could barely breathe enough to whisper, “What?”
His eyes burned. “Everything.”
Chapter 20
Max
My mother’s side of the family was notorious for their ability to hold a grudge. One slight and you’d be blacklisted for the rest of eternity, probably even from beyond the grave. So when I told Paulina about my relationship with Emma, and a full week had passed without me hearing from her, I knew I was in the dog house and that it was going to take a damn miracle to get me out.
I caved in on Monday evening, as I was sitting in my apartment alone reflecting on the amazing weekend I’d just spent with Emma. At first I worried that acknowledging our desires and fully giving into them would make what we were doing boring, but as it turned out, the opposite was true. I couldn’t get enough of her. Even now, when I’d only just seen her an hour ago, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Unfortunately, this thing with my mother wasn’t going fix itself. She wouldn’t be the one to come forward to make amends. Rather than calling up Emma and inviting her over, which was what I wanted to do, I decided I’d bite the bullet and go straighten things out with my mother. I rationalized that I could see Emma afterward. She would be my reward for doing the right thing.
I didn’t call first. Paulina wouldn’t take my call anyway, and since she seemed fine with dropping in to my place unannounced, it seemed only fair that I should be able to do the same to her. Her apartment was nearby, which thankfully didn’t give my resolve much time to wither on the way over.
I walked up to the front desk of her building wearing the friendliest smile I owned. Her doorman had long ago taken a dislike to me, and I expected it was because my mother used him as her own personal sounding board for whatever was distressing her at the time. Usually, I was the one distressing her.
He called to let her know I was there, but the look on his face told me immediately that she was not okay with my visit.
“I’m going up,” I told him, and then left before he had a chance to argue with me. As much as it was his job not to let unwelcome visitors into the building, even my mother’s doorman knew not to tell me what to do.
I banged on Paulina’s door a couple minutes later. She did not answer. I groaned in frustration, wishing she could be just a touch less dramatic for once in her life. Would it kill her?
“Mother,” I called through the door. “Let me in. We need to talk.”
Silence.
“How would you feel if I just refused to talk to you?” I asked.
Still silence.
“If you don’t answer this door right now, I’ll call your book club and tell them what you get like after a few too many gins.”
There was a shuffling from the other side of the door and then it opened to reveal my mother’s pinched, angry face. I pushed my way inside, careful not to do so too forcefully and risk inadvertently hurting her.
“You never want to talk to me when I want to talk to you,” Paulina sniffed. “But as soon as you want something, look where you come running! It’s outrageous.”
“What’s outrageous is the fact that you’ve been ignoring me for the past week because I told you I have a girlfriend.”
She closed the door and walked purposefully over to the kitchen to pour herself a gin and tonic. She didn’t offer me one, but then again that would have been the polite thing for her to do. Mother was only ever polite when it suited her. She never saw the irony in placing such a high premium on the manners of others.
“It’s not that you have a girlfriend, Maximillian. You mustn’t be so dramatic,” she chastised.
Now I was the one being dramatic? The woman was u
nbelievable.
“Then what is it?” I asked. “Is it that she’s my assistant?”
She finished measuring out the gin and practically slammed the bottle back down on the counter. “She’s your secretary,” she snapped. “And beyond that, she’s completely unsuited to you and you know that. You should be with an educated young woman of your own station. I wish you’d grow up and stop chasing the shortest skirt and start looking for someone to settle down with.”
“How is it any of your business which skirt I’m chasing?”
I clenched my fists and stormed over to the counter, trying to keep a lid on the rage bubbling in my chest. This confrontation had been a long time coming. All it had taken to push me over the edge was my desire for Emma.
“And for the record, Emma is not just some little skirt. You know her. Hell, you like her, which is saying something for you.”
She set her nose in the air as she took the first sip of her drink. “I like lots of people.”
“You like lots of people with money,” I corrected. “The list of people you like that don’t have money is actually quite small. In fact, I’m fairly certain it consists only of Emma and Haddie.”
“Used to consist of Emma and Haddie,” she snipped. “Now it’s only Haddie.”
My rage grew.
“So now you suddenly dislike Emma just because she wants to be with me? Are you insane?”
“I dislike Emma because she’s clearly trying to get something out of you,” she countered. “You may think it snobbish of me to take an instant dislike to the women in your life who come from average means, but it’s just common sense. People always want what they don’t have, and if they don’t have money, it makes sense for them to do everything they can to try to get it. Including tricking my son into a completely inappropriate and ludicrous relationship.”
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