by Hadley Quinn
Max took a minute to consider her words. He could relate. There were parts of his life he always wanted to remember because there had been some really good moments. But those other things—the misunderstandings and their snowball effect—threw everyone off course.
He knew better now. He knew what was important to him and who he wanted in his life. He even knew what he wanted from of his career.
Maybe that was just called growing the fuck up.
“So you aren’t completely disgusted with my life?” Max smirked.
Anna smiled, and then she laughed. “Are you disgusted with mine? Because they sound a bit similar.”
“Absolutely not,” he chuckled. “Doesn’t matter if you used to be one of those prissy divas I’ve always tried to avoid.”
“Prissy?” she scoffed. “I said nothing about prissy. And it’s a good thing you’re not one of those douchey assholes who think they do nothing wrong.”
“Maybe still an asshole, but I’m getting good at apologies.”
“Then it sounds like you’re getting all prepped for a life with me,” she winked.
Max shrugged. “I guess if you really think you’re ready to put up with me.”
“I can put up with you, but you better keep on trying, mister. I’m not into slackers.”
“Goes both ways, lady.” He arched a brow at her.
“Ahh, gonna eyebrow me, huh?” she playfully shoved him. “It’s on like that?”
He smiled, but gave her a kiss instead. It wasn’t even anything sexual, but more of a mutual understanding. It was an exchange of respect and appreciation for what the other had overcome.
When Max gradually ended the kiss, he leaned back a bit to study Anna’s beautiful face. He kissed the dimple in her chin, but really just wanted to reflect on what he truly had in front of him.
“Thank you for being the woman who not only has the patience and tolerance to understand me, but who makes me a better person. You have no idea how equally important that is to me. I want to do what’s right. I want to be the person who I know I’ve always been…but better.”
She frowned at him. “Max, we lose ourselves sometimes. Whether it be because of hardships in our life, desperation, basic mistakes, or whatever… Sometimes who we are gets a bit jumbled in the mess. But it also means there are good things being added. We get through shit and it refines us. It’s up to us to use all of those things and rebuild with the right qualities.”
Max thought of Tate’s journals, and the way other people could make him feel exactly that: like he was rebuilding himself with the same good qualities, but now with better tools in his life.
“I know it shouldn’t matter, but I just wish people could get their facts straight. They shouldn’t be criticizing others anyway, but it would be nice if they at least had their fucking facts right. And I mostly wish I could protect Chase from all of that.”
“You talking about the media? The public? Even with the facts, people perceive a situation however they want,” she said. “You know that.”
He nodded reluctantly and sighed. “Yeah, I do. And really, there are only a handful of people whose opinions I care about. I just wish others didn’t have to stir up the shit pot so much.”
“Go ahead and let them misunderstand you,” she shrugged. “Let them judge. Let them gossip and spew their opinions. What they think of you defines them, not you. Keep being kind and loving, and don’t ever let them bring you down. No matter what they do or say, never doubt your worth. The truth works in your favor, not theirs.”
How many times had he been coached by PR and image teams? Told what to say and what not to say, what to do and what not to do? Too many times to count. But they were paid professionals; people who made a living telling others how to represent themselves based on what has “worked” for others in the past.
This woman right in front of Max was no publicist, lawyer, or any other representative in his industry with an agenda. She was simply the girl he wanted in his life because she fit that way. She was who he had grown to count on, even when he still had lingering doubts because of past experiences with other people.
“Thanks for having my back,” Max finally said. “It means a lot.”
She scoffed. “Having your back? Really?”
“What?”
“Max, seriously… I’m more than just someone who will back you up when needed. I want to be there with you, by your side, holding your hand. Do you understand the difference?”
He swallowed, worried that he’d somehow fucked up what was meant to be a compliment and a show of his gratitude. And when he thought about his previous reservations when it came to people in his life, he could clearly see that Anna was not like any of the rest. She really was more important than that and she had the guts to make him see it.
But she still scared him shitless.
“I hear what you’re saying,” he nodded.
“That’s cool,” she smiled sarcastically. “But do you believe it too?”
He couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face. Yep, she was gonna give him hell whenever he deserved it. “Yes, I do,” he nodded respectfully. “And…”
She raised her eyebrows like she was waiting for more. He was feeling a bit of that gratitude a little too much right now and there was no way in hell he was going to let those three little words come out of his mouth. He wasn’t to the point of feeling that entirely let alone saying it to someone again.
“Thank you for being my sidekick.” Lame. He knew it. But it was also meant to be funny, which was why she laughed.
And thank God she was as smart as she was and didn’t push any further, because at that point, he was almost close to throwing up that wall and retreating.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Max hadn’t been to his grandfather’s mansion in months, and he’d only seen him briefly within that time at various events. He’d caught wind that there was somewhat of a family meeting going on at Neil’s house and that his presence was requested. The last family meeting hadn’t exactly gone in his favor, so he was a bit cautious. He had no idea what to expect from this one.
He entered the eighteen-million-dollar home after a pre-production meeting with Sam Gleason. They’d gone over studio time, what Max would need for his sets and locations, and general production chatter about the movie. Sam wasn’t helping him produce it—Max was doing it solely on his own and financing it on his own—but he’d be renting Gleason’s facilities for the next few months.
All in all, it seemed like it was going to be a great fit.
One of the housekeepers pointed him toward the direction of the study, but his grandpa’s wife greeted him before he made it down the hall.
“Max, it’s so nice to see you,” Blaire smiled as she came across the sitting room.
He liked his grandfather’s wife. She wasn’t his first wife—or second or third; he wasn’t sure which number she was—but they’d been together for about four years and she’d proven to be a good match. The girls in the family liked visiting with her, and even Max could see that Blaire had somewhat mellowed out his grandpa’s temperament over the past few years.
“Good to see you, as well,” Max returned the pleasantry. “Any idea what’s going on?”
She seemed confused until he motioned to the study. “Oh, you mean your Uncle Clint?”
Max displayed an appearance of disinterest, but inside he was a bit worried. He knew Kellie was here but wasn’t sure about anyone else, and had no idea his uncle was in town. But he only nodded before traveling the remaining distance down the hall, and lightly rapped on the door before entering.
He wasn’t surprised that Jay and Tyse were there, but so was Teague. Clint was his cousins’ father and maybe it needed to be their issue, but Kellie had invited him to come so he sat down in an empty chair.
He hadn’t seen his uncle in a few years, and glancing briefly at him now, Max wasn’t sure if he looked good or bad. He was wearing a button-up shirt with a tie and s
lacks, but his hair was disheveled and he actually had a beard.
“Max.” Clint gave him a stiff nod, but he was eyeing him warily.
Max only gave him a chin lift in return, and then faced his grandfather.
“Your father can’t make it,” Neil told him, “so we’re doing this without him. However, he’s aware of everything I’m going to tell you, so it’s not a problem.” He cleared his throat and nodded to Clint. “Your uncle has completed a rehab program that he willingly admitted himself to. I’m going to make a statement for the family, acknowledging such, so the facts are clear. Nothing to hide, just don’t need unnecessary speculation by the public. Nip it in the bud right now.”
Max glanced at the others, who looked like they’d already been informed. Kellie looked pissed, and Max realized she was furthest across the room from her dad. Tyse seemed calm, which was no surprise, but Jay also appeared completely indifferent and that was a surprise.
“I want you kids to realize that everyone makes mistakes, and if a person is willing to amend those situations, there’s no need to punish them for it anymore. Clint is ready to move his life in a different direction, and I’m asking for each of you to be supportive of this.”
“Pssh, and how many times,” Kellie mumbled, a scowl still on her face. She seemed physically uncomfortable where she sat, her hands softly rubbing her protruding belly.
“As many times as it takes,” Grandpa answered sternly. “Get off your high horse and put yourself in his shoes.”
“What do you mean ‘supportive’,” Jay asked. “We’ve supported him every other time—obviously rehab is an effort—but what exactly are you asking of us? We’re not going to fucking hold hands and sing nursery rhymes together. What’s done is done. We don’t trust him, he doesn’t like us… It’s an obvious cycle.”
“A cycle I want to break,” Clint replied softly. He sighed and sat up straighter. “Look, I see things a bit clearer now. I’m truly intent on making this recovery stick. I don’t expect you to be all ‘daddy, daddy’ with me—you don’t even have to say anything nice about me in public—all I’m asking is for forgiveness. Forgive and forget if that works for you, but just forgiveness. I leapt off the deep end on my own years ago, and I can’t take it back. But I can apologize and try to move forward.”
Jay stood. “Well, apology accepted. I have to get back to work now.” He actually left the room and no one said anything to stop him.
Max wasn’t even sure if Tyse had ever spoken to Clint as his biological father. He assumed so, but no one had much to say right now. Even Teague sat in a corner silently, seeming to feel as out of place as Max felt.
Grandpa Neil stood and motioned for Max and Teague to leave with him. It was obvious he was giving Kellie and Tyse time with their dad.
As they walked to one of the sitting rooms, he motioned for a housekeeper to bring them drinks. “Have a seat, boys.”
“I can’t stay,” Teague said. “I have a dinner date with my wife.”
“I can’t stay either.” Max did accept a glass of water but served himself at the wet bar. “I’m picking up Anna so we can hike and watch the sunset.”
Neil smiled at them both. “Ah, I see my grandsons have learned the art of pleasing women. It’s the little things, you know. You must get that from me.”
Max briefly glanced at Teague and his brother did the same. It was one of those “Oh God he’s not going to talk about his romantic endeavors, is he?” kind of moments, and both had to refrain from laughter. What was funniest to Max, though, was the fact that he felt that immature reaction almost instantly, like they were fourteen all over again.
“We don’t want to hear about geriatric sex, Gramps,” Max said, lifting his glass of water with amusement.
“We don’t need the ins and outs of your experiences with Blaire. Ah, wait…” Teague frowned.
“Yeah, wrong choice of words, brother.”
“That wasn’t a good one.”
“Nope not at all.”
“Okay you two smart asses,” Grandpa cut in. But he wasn’t mad. In fact, he looked between the two of them and smiled knowingly. “Alright, what’s changed between you two? No one is out for blood today.”
Both of them shrugged, but Teague answered, “Decided to let the water flow under the bridge.”
Grandpa eyed them again. “Hmm, I see. And what if the water floods the bridge again?”
“It will,” Max answered as he leaned against the couch. “It always does. But maybe the water isn’t so scary after all.”
Neil crossed his legs and received the bourbon the housekeeper handed him. “Thank you, Peg.” He turned his attention back to his grandsons. “So tell me what the two of you have been up to.”
“I really don’t have the time,” Teague said. “Maybe we can catch up this weekend? You and Blaire can come over for dinner.”
He seemed genuinely interested in that. “All right, I’ll let her know. I’m sure she would love to.”
Teague made his farewells brief and then disappeared. Max still had another hour he could kill, but he wasn’t sure if he was going to admit that to his grandfather. However, he sat down on a couch that faced him, deciding it was probably best to get something off his chest.
“I’m not okay with this division of McC Studios you have set up right now. I don’t want Chase to inherit anything that’s industry oriented unless it comes directly from me.”
Neil studied him long and hard. “Chase is my great-grandson. I can pass down anything I want to him. And while we’re talking about this, tell me why you’re so set on separating yourself from us. Are your father and I really that awful you can’t be associated with us anymore?”
“You know how much he argues with me, how much he disagrees with anything unless it’s perfectly designed his own way. If he can’t allow me to venture down my own paths, he’s restricting my growth. Why would you do that to your own kid?”
“Because he doesn’t see it that way. He sees the tried and tested path that worked for him and he believes in you so much, he knows you can go even farther on it.”
Max considered that for a second. “It’s not like I’ve completely changed gears and want to pursue something entirely new.”
“You’ve been writing.”
Max eyed him carefully. He wasn’t surprised his grandpa knew, but maybe he was a bit caught off guard. Normally whatever Neil knew, so did Craig. But his father hadn’t seemed to know what he’d been up to.
“Yes, I know what you’re working on,” Neil said, slowly swishing the liquid around in his glass. “Not precisely what you’re working on, but I know you wrote a script. And no, I haven’t mentioned it to your father.”
“And why is that?”
He slowly shrugged. “Because if you don’t want to talk to him about it, you shouldn’t have to. I can respect that. Your father…he’s a different story. He’s not so patient. And his faith is lacking sometimes.”
“And how’d you find out?”
He gave him a look as if to say, “It wasn’t difficult.”
“Right. Nothing in this industry is completely secretive,” Max relented with a sigh.
“No, you’ve done well,” Neil said. “I actually only heard a couple of days ago. Ran into George Randolph. He said his daughter was going to be working on the set design for a movie that you were producing. I did some digging, and Gleason Productions was the only studio that was booked solid. I remembered how much you liked working for Sam in the past. And I’m not dumb. Sam has never liked your dad. It makes sense you’d produce there.”
“Producing, yes,” Max admitted. “But how’d you know I wrote anything?”
“Saw some of those damn YouTube videos of you at the beach with a crowd. Grover showed me. Must say that was a surprising move on your part. No, you didn’t admit to also writing the script, but I figured so. You’ve always had a creative mind. There have been many scripts you’ve improved over the years.”
Max di
dn’t respond. His grandfather had never been too difficult to talk to, but he tended to play too much of an aloof role sometimes. It always seemed like Craig was allowed to hold the reins more than anyone, and Neil was there just in case. And then there were other times where his grandpa seemed to turn into a growly grizzly bear and wanted his presence known. He was a bit unpredictable that way.
“Your dad cares about your future, you know,” he said. “Sometimes a little too much, and I think in regretting some of his own mistakes, he often uses you as a do-over. You can see that, can’t you? I’m not saying it’s right, but parents can be that way. I did it with my own boys. It’s natural. And when you can’t see eye-to-eye, all hell breaks loose sometimes. Look at that as an example,” he waved a hand toward the hallway. “Clint, after all these years, finally ready to listen to his daddy. He had to fuck up a certain amount of times to learn, I guess. And your dad had to watch it happen every single time, all while being inside this Hollywood fishbowl. He’s afraid you or your brother will get caught up in the wrong things.”
“He acts like Teague is a cyst that needs removed. I know he doesn’t truly feel that way. Why does he do that?”
“Because it’s easier to fight for your wellbeing that way. He’s afraid if he gives you boys an inch, you’ll take a mile. It’s human nature. If he supports you veering off the path just a little bit, he’s afraid you’ll take a major turn and lose you for good.”
“He loses us by not supporting us. Doesn’t he see that?”
Neil didn’t answer. He was staring vacantly across the room until Max realized he was looking at his wrist when he asked, “What happened to the Vacheron Tour de L’ile ?”
Max automatically rubbed his right wrist. “I auctioned it for charity.” He waited for his grandpa’s reaction but didn’t get one. “I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings since it was a gift, but it went to a good cause.”
“The nursing homes you’ve been improving?”
Again Max wasn’t surprised he already knew. “Yes, something like that.”