Who Gets to Marry Max?

by Neesa Hart

  “Max, we have a certain, uh, history. People don’t think of us as a couple.”

  “So?”

  “So? So, it’s going to be a little shocking for them, don’t you think?”

  “So?”

  Sidney rolled her eyes. “So, I don’t think I’ve quite cultivated your disdain for the opinions of the world at large.”

  “Are you ashamed to be seen with me?”

  She choked. “Are you kidding?”

  He pinned her with an intense look. “No. Are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Are you ashamed for people to know that we’re lovers?”

  “No, that’s not what I—”

  “Then what’s the problem here?”

  She drew a calming breath. “The problem, Mad Max, is that I don’t think your circle of friends—or your family—is going to respond very well when you tell them you’re sleeping with your butler’s niece.”

  A hint of irritation pulled at the corners of his mouth. He pulled the car off the highway and glided to a stop on the shoulder. Giving the keys a swift turn, he shifted to look at her. “In the first place, I’m not sleeping with you. To say that’s what’s going on between us makes it sound tawdry. And I don’t like it.”

  Sidney’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Max ignored her. “Secondly, in case you’ve failed to notice, this isn’t the fifteenth century. I’m not the lord of the manor, and you sure as hell aren’t the scullery maid. Yes, your uncle is my employee, but Philip Grant isn’t just a member of my staff, he’s my friend. I don’t consider you my butler’s niece, I consider you the woman I want.”

  She stared at him. She was beginning to understand why the world found him so formidable. In his present state of determination, he was almost overwhelming. “Oh.”

  “And third, if anyone has a problem with that, then they’d damn well better be smart enough not to mention it.” His gaze narrowed. “And if they do, I want you to promise you’ll tell me about it.”

  “Max—”

  He cupped the back of her head in his large hand. “Promise me, Sidney.”

  “Okay.”

  His fingers relaxed. “Are we clear on this now?”

  Hardly, she thought. He might not foresee the inevitable problems that would arise, but she did. “I just don’t think its going to be as easy as you think.”

  “I don’t give a damn whether it’s easy or not. Do you think I made Loden Enterprises into the multinational corporate giant it is by backing away from obstacles?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “What I’m concerned about is how you feel. Are you all right with this, or not? I think I have a right to know.”

  She hesitated, then found the answer she needed in his fierce expression. With the sun shining through the windows, and the heat of his gaze searching her face, she decided she could wait a few precious hours before she faced the inevitable. “I’m fine.”

  “Sure?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then you’ll let me come to your place tonight?”

  “Tonight is my card night with my staff. Kelly and Chip and Licia, my office manager, and I get together for poker the first Monday of the month.”

  “I love poker.”

  She drew a deep breath. “Are you sure?”

  “Are you?” he asked, his gaze intense.

  Sidney nodded. At least they’d be among her friends—people she knew and trusted. It seemed less scary that way. “I’m sure. The game’s at eight.”

  “Good. What can I bring?”

  She hesitated a second longer, then gathered her courage. Max was right. If he was okay with it, and she was okay with it, who cared what the rest of the world thought. “A clean shirt and your toothbrush?”

  The clouds cleared from his gaze. He leaned over to press a kiss to her lips. “You didn’t tell me it was a sleepover.”

  “I just decided. If we’re going to do this, then I think it’s past time you tried my specialty of the house.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “You mean there’s something you didn’t show me this weekend?”

  As he reached for the keys, Sidney laughed. “Not that kind of specialty. I meant I’ll make you chocolate waffles for breakfast.”

  He flashed her a beatific smile, then started the car. “I can hardly wait.”

  SIDNEY PACED the length of her den as she battled a bout of nerves. For the fifth time that hour, her gaze strayed to the clock on her mantel. Four-thirty. Max had dropped her off four hours ago. She’d unpacked her suitcase, started a load of laundry, made her hors d’oeuvres for the evening, then proceeded to anxiously pace the length of her den.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this tense. Damn, but she’d like a cigarette. The craving surprised her. Since she’d kicked the habit six years ago, the urge rarely resurfaced. It must be, she decided, an indication that her trepidation was functioning at peak levels. No matter what Max had said, the same niggling worry she’d felt since he’d first told her he wanted her kept plaguing her: she could never be what he needed. Carter had wanted a society wife, and she’d lost a part of herself trying to please him.

  Max was a sophisticated man, who enjoyed the companionship of equally sophisticated women. Root beer, pretzels and poker simply weren’t his style. He might think he could grow to like it, might even manage to fool himself into believing it, but he couldn’t run in her world anymore than she could run in his.

  He was a saltwater fish, she’d decided. Exotic and rare and beautiful and valuable, while she was more the freshwater pond variety. With a weary sigh, Sidney dropped into a wing chair. How had she gotten herself into this? How had she let herself believe that she could swim in the same stream as a man like Max Loden?

  Absently, her gaze strayed to the striped wallpaper while her mind drifted to the look of displeasure on Carter Silas’s face when he’d come home from a business trip and found the walls painted yellow. Sidney had worked on the project for the three days he’d been gone. She’d loved the color—a cheery pale yellow with a cream wash. She even remembered the name of the shade: Swiss Vanilla. The antique white trim had made the room seem welcoming and bright. It had reminded her of lemon pie. Carter hated it.

  Within a week, he’d chosen the striped wallpaper he wanted her to use to cover her paint job. Sidney had hung the wallpaper without comment. She reached out to trace a seam with her index finger. She’d done a great job. Every line was perfectly matched. Carter had thanked her for getting rid of the yellow.

  Idly, she plucked at a place where the glue had separated from the wall. The tiny flaw irrationally irritated her. It seemed, somehow, symbolic of the many things that had gone wrong in her marriage. No matter how hard she’d tried, there had always been imperfections.

  Imperfections her husband couldn’t tolerate. Her finger picked at the loose edge.

  Imperfections that had caused a bitter and angry divorce. Suddenly, she was holding a two-foot section of the striped paper in her hand. She looked first at it, incredulous, then at the now bare wall. The yellow-and-cream paint, clearly visible beneath the haze of wallpaper paste, taunted her.

  Sidney surged to her feet and reached for a newly loosened edge of the paper. She gave it a hard tug and it ripped a four-foot swath from the wall. Abruptly, she was no longer merely irritated—she was furious.

  Attacking the wallpaper with renewed vigor, she began ripping at it. As each piece fell away, she felt a surge of liberating disgust. “Damn him,” she muttered as she thought of Carter’s smug face and critical gaze. She shredded the piece of paper in her hands and reached for another. “Damn him to hell.”

  Sidney was wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her sleeve when she heard the knock on her door. Kelly. Kelly always arrived early on poker night, so she and Sidney could review the calendar for the month. Sidney looked blankly at the piles of torn paper in the center of her den, then walked
to the door.

  Kelly greeted her with a bright smile and unabashed curiosity. “Hi, Sid. Have a nice weekend?”

  Sidney merely stepped away from the door. Kelly gave her a curious look, advanced three steps into the apartment, then stopped. “Uh, when did you decide to do this?”

  “Two hours ago,” Sidney said quietly.

  Kelly glanced from the mess to her. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “I like the yellow,” Kelly ventured.

  “So do I.”

  “I never thought the stripes were your style.”

  “They weren’t. Carter picked them out.”

  “Oh.” Kelly tilted her head to one side. “I guess that explains it, then.”

  “Explains what?” Sidney shut the door, then slid her hands into her hip pockets.

  “Why I thought your den looked more like a law office than a home.”

  A giggle welled in Sidney’s chest. “I kind of thought that, too.”

  “So why did you live with it for so long?”

  “I don’t know. I had other things to worry about, I guess.”

  “Oh.” Kelly picked her way through the debris so she could put her purse down on the coffee table. “Why now?”

  “A lot of things changed this weekend,” Sidney admitted. “I decided I wanted the yellow back.”

  Kelly looked around once more, then nodded. “Good choice. Tell you what, I’ll help you wash the glue off the walls while we go over the calendar. That way, it’ll be clean when Chip and Licia get here.”

  “Max is coming,” Sidney said quietly.

  Kelly’s face briefly registered surprise, but she masked it quickly. “Good. Maybe he’s a high roller.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Then we’d better get started. I want time to relax before I win all his money.”

  For the first time in hours, Sidney’s tension began to ebb. She managed a slight laugh. Kelly had a way of doing that for her—helping her stay connected. “Want some lemonade while you work?”

  “You bet.”

  “Okay. I’ll get two glasses, a bucket and some sponges if you’ll root out a trash bag and start getting rid of this stuff.” She kicked a piece with her toe. “I don’t think I want to look at it anymore.”

  They spent the next hour and a half scrubbing the walls, talking business, and carefully avoiding the subject of Carter Silas. When the bulk of the glue was gone, Sidney was pleased to note that very little of the paint would need touching up. She could probably complete the job in a morning. Tired, but heady with a strange feeling of relief, she dropped into a chair. “It looks great. Thanks, Kel.”

  Kelly gave the walls an appreciative look. “It really does. Did you do this yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  Kelly sank down on the couch and reached for her glass. “And I thought your artistic talents lay in chocolate. Who knew?”

  “I outdid myself.” She glanced around. “I think I was trying to compensate for the gloomy state of my life.”

  “And then Carter made you put up bars—like prison. Geez, the more I hear about the guy, the more I hate him.”

  “Thanks for your loyalty.”

  Kelly shrugged. “He was a creep, Sidney. And I’m glad you’re finally shedding some of the baggage he left you with.”

  “You could say that.”

  Several seconds of silence ticked by. Kelly set her glass down on the coffee table and fixed Sidney with a shrewd look. “Do you, ah, want to tell me about this weekend?”

  She drew a calming breath. “What’s to tell?”

  Kelly’s eyebrows lifted. “Is that a serious question?”

  “No, I guess not.” Sidney ran her hands back and forth on her jean-covered thighs. “Max and I are—lovers.” The word still felt strange.

  “It’s about time,” her friend said emphatically.

  “It’s a little strange. I’ve known him for so long—or at least, know of him through Philip.”

  “Sometimes the best relationships start out slow.”

  “I know.”

  “But you’re nervous?”

  Sidney hesitated, then nodded. “The last time I allowed myself to be really serious about a man, I ended up in a messy divorce with the self-esteem of a slug. I feel like I just finished putting myself back together, and now, here’s this.”

  “Max Loden is a hell of a lot better man than Carter Silas.”

  “I know he is.”

  “So why the anxiety?”

  “Kelly, how is this possibly going to work? I mean, Max is—spectacular. ‘Max the Magnificent,’ I used to call him.”

  “Evidently, he’s more than a little keen on you, too.”

  “So he says.”

  “You don’t believe him?” Kelly sounded incredulous.

  “I believe him. It’s just that I think he has no idea how hard this will be. How can I possibly fit into his life?”

  “The same way he’ll fit into yours, Sidney. One day at a time.” Kelly leaned forward to brace her hands on her knees. “Look, Sidney. Max Loden isn’t the kind of man who settles for less than what he wants. He’s shrewd. To hear you tell it, he’s brilliant.”

  “He is.”

  “So give him a little credit, will ya? If he says he wants you, trust him to know what he’s talking about.”

  The firm knock on the door could only belong to one person. Sidney shot Kelly a nervous look, then took her emotions firmly in hand and went to answer it. Max, clad in a purple shirt and pristine blue jeans stepped over the threshold and pulled Sidney into his arms. “I missed you,” he whispered in the instant before his mouth settled on hers. Sidney had no time to react, so she surrendered instead.

  By the time he lifted his head, her knees felt like butter. Max’s eyes glittered. “I hope you missed me, too,” he teased.

  Sidney blinked, trying to bring him back into focus. Belatedly, she remembered Kelly’s presence. She backed up a step, but Max kept his hands linked at the small of her back. “Max,” she indicated Kelly with a wave of her hand, “you remember Kelly.”

  He grinned at her. “Of course. Thanks for letting Sidney have the weekend off.”

  Kelly laughed. “Sid’s the boss. I just do the dirty work.”

  Max shook his head. “That’s not the way I heard it. Sidney tells me you’re her right hand. She’s lucky to have you.”

  “I’m lucky to have her.” Kelly’s gaze narrowed as she studied Max’s face. “Anyone would be.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, they would.”

  Another knock on her door saved Sidney from replying. Chip greeted her with a broad smile and a tray of food. “Hey, Sid. I was experimenting this afternoon, and thought maybe we’d try…” He stopped abruptly when he saw Max. “Uh, do I have the wrong night?”

  “Max is joining us for poker,” Sidney said as she took the tray from Chip.

  “Oh.” The young man looked at Kelly. “This is an interesting, uh, twist.”

  Kelly laughed. “Think of the potential, Chip. How much cash do you have on you, Max?”

  “Enough to bankroll your pension.”

  She rubbed her hands together. “I can hardly wait for Licia to get here. I’m looking forward to divesting you of your life savings.”

  Max shot Sidney a wry look. “You didn’t warn me she was a shark.”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  TWO HOURS LATER, they were comfortably settled around Sidney’s table, with piles of shelled peanuts serving as chips. The conversation had turned in and out of their business and personal lives. After the first five minutes, Sidney had completely relaxed, convinced that Max was a virtual social chameleon. He’d slid effortlessly into the light banter and casual business conversations, adding his opinion on occasion, but, more often, asking polite questions of her staff. When Licia had expressed her frustration with the billing problems at one of Sidney’s major suppliers, Max, who was accustomed to negotiating billion-dollar deals, had of
fered advice and empathy.

  “So, Max,” Chip said as he tossed two peanuts into the kitty, “I was reading in the paper about the Fitzwater deal. The speculators can’t seem to understand what Edward Fitzwater has that you want.”

  Max laughed. “I want his daughter for my sister-in-law.”

  Kelly nodded. “I can understand that. Miss Fitzwater seemed very gracious.”

  “Lauren is a gem,” Max agreed as he called Chip’s bet and raised the stakes to three peanuts. “Greg has outstanding taste.”

  “But what about Fitzwater Electronics?” Chip insisted. “According to the papers, you pushed hard for the merger.”

  Max’s eyes twinkled. “Looking for inside stock tips, Chip?”

  “Sure,” the young chef said. “I’m not going to retire on peanuts, you know.”

  Sidney called the bet as she ate another of Chip’s appetizers. “If you keep coming up with recipes like this, you can retire and host a cooking show.”

  Chip put his hand over his heart. “Thank you for appreciating my talent.”

  Kelly grinned. “Hey, maybe you could get Martha Stewart and Julia Child to battle it out on your show. Can you imagine the headlines? Duel Of The Whisks. Child vs. Stewart. Death By Meringue.”

  Licia shook her head. “I’d like to see the day Chip oversees a duel to the death by anything. Good grief, he’s afraid of spiders.”

  “Yeah, well,” Sidney said, “I’m afraid of Martha Stewart.”

  Everyone laughed. Kelly pushed the requisite number of peanuts into the pile. “At the moment, the only thing I’m afraid of is losing the rest of my peanuts.”

  Max tapped his fingers on his fanned cards. “I can understand that.” He tossed six peanuts into the kitty. “The stakes are starting to get high.”

  “But not as high,” Chip persisted, “as the stakes in the Fitzwater merger.”

  “Chip,” Kelly admonished. “Give it a rest.”

  “I don’t mind,” Max explained. “There’s really not that much to it. Fitzwater Electronics is the patent holder on a couple of new devices that I want. Edward has a couple of young whiz-kid engineers who have been working on some miniaturization technology for power sources.”

  Kelly gave him a curious look. “If it’s so valuable, why did Fitzwater let his company get into trouble?”