Max (The Casanova Club Book 12)

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Max (The Casanova Club Book 12) Page 2

by Ali Parker

Or most likely, perhaps I was intimidated because she’d spent the last ten months with other men who had egos the size of Mount Everest and bank accounts just as large. They’d no doubt rolled out the red carpet for her, and with personalities like Easton, Cooper, and Levi in there, I was sure to blend into the background with the other more bland gentlemen. Like the Canadian. Or the photographer. Or the writer.

  We were the good guys who were constantly overlooked because our bad-boy counterparts were so good at stealing the spotlight.

  And how could Piper know the difference in such a short amount of time? How could she not fall for their bravado and charms?

  Ten months was a long time to contend with doubt. And it had won out. Now, sitting here the night before she arrived, I was simply ready for it to all be over so I could go back to my normal life and pretend I never had the genius idea to sign up for the Casanova Club in the first place. If I didn’t let myself care and I kept one foot out of the pond, I couldn’t get hurt.

  And that was logic a businessman like me could stand behind with confidence.

  Another knock came at the front door.

  I rolled my eyes and threw back the rest of my drink. “There’s no candy here! Go across the street. They hand out full-sized candy bars!”

  There was a brief pause and then a series of three loud, heavy knocks, too heavy to be that of a child’s fist.

  Grumbling, I swung to my feet, set my glass down, and marched across my hardwood floors to the foyer. I unlocked the deadbolt and threw my front door open.

  A full-grown mermaid stood on my threshold.

  I arched an eyebrow at the ensemble: shimmery, turquoise, scale-printed leggings, purple-shell bra, seaweed-green hair, pink lips, glittery makeup, and seaweed draped all over the place as well as fake pearls and little starfish.

  The woman put a hand on her hip. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  I blinked in surprise. “Holly?”

  My little sister nodded dramatically. “Of course! Who else would it be, moron?” She pushed past me into the house and worked to detangle the mane of green hair attached to her head. “Where the hell is your costume, Max?”

  “You know I don’t do Halloween.”

  She looked me up and down. “You could always slap a name tag on your shirt and go as Bill Gates. You look the part. Are those fucking khakis, Max? Jesus. You have billions of dollars, and you dress like a middle-class father from the nineties. Where are your New Balance running shoes with arch support?” She flashed me a teasing smile.

  “Very funny, Holly. But I’m not the one with sequins glued to my eyeballs.”

  “It’s Halloween!”

  “So? You’re an adult. It’s weird.”

  “It is not. You’re weird. I thought you said you were going to come out to the party with me tonight. A bunch of people from your office will be there, and they’d be happy to see you. A little participation in the non-work-related activities won’t kill you, Max. Live a little. You used to be so much fun.”

  “I’m still fun.”

  “I can’t take your argument seriously in those pants and that polo shirt.”

  “I can wear whatever the hell I want with this incredible bone structure.” I ran my fingers along my jaw.

  Holly laughed at me. “Just because Nana says that doesn’t mean it’s true. You’re the apple of her eye. She’d say anything to make you smile.”

  “At least one of you is nice to me,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, Nana needs to learn the difference between flattery and enabling. You’re an introverted billionaire who’d prefer to stay in his house on a night like this than go out to a party and have a few drinks with friends. Come on, Max. Your month is going to be all over the place when the Casanova girl gets here. Let’s go out like old times.”

  “Piper.”

  “Whatever. Go get me a piece of paper and some tape.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can write Steve Jobs on it and stick it to you so you have a costume.”

  “Don’t you mean Bill gates?”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Same. Same. Just go.”

  “How about I just go as myself? Max Fisher, CEO of Apple.”

  “Because you don’t look like a CEO of anything.”

  “Then let’s just go with your assessment of a middle-class father from the nineties. I think I have a pair of sneakers kicking around somewhere.”

  “Don’t you dare,” she said.

  I laughed. “Why not? Don’t want to be seen with your big brother in costume?”

  “That’s the scary thing, Max. It wouldn’t be a costume. You need a serious wardrobe overhaul.”

  It was my turn to wave her off. “Clothes don’t matter.”

  “That’s like saying it doesn’t matter what kind of paper a resume is printed on.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  She blinked at me. “So if you got a resume written on a restaurant napkin, you’d hire that person?”

  “If they were the most qualified, sure.”

  “If they were the most qualified, they wouldn’t have had to write their resume on a restaurant napkin,” Holly said flatly.

  “Touché.”

  Going to the office Halloween party might not have been such a bad idea. It would give me a chance to think of something other than Piper’s looming arrival. I could rub elbows with some coworkers, maybe have a couple of drinks, and be home just after midnight (if Holly would allow it, of course). It would appease my sister and calm my nerves. Hopefully.

  “All right,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair. “I’ll come to the party.”

  She squealed with excitement.

  “On one condition, Holly.”

  “Anything. Name it.”

  “I’m not wearing a costume. This is it. Take it or leave it.”

  My sister rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand. “I’ll take it. Party pooper.”

  She dragged me out the front door and onto the driveway, where a luxury car was parked and still running with the headlights off. I locked up behind us and joined her in the backseat. When we pulled away from the house, she shot me a cocky smirk.

  “Jonathan said I didn’t stand a chance of getting you out of the house,” she said.

  “Congratulations. You win.”

  “Damn straight I did. He bet me a hundred bucks.”

  I chuckled. “He’s not going to be happy about that.”

  “Then he shouldn’t have bet against me. I always get what I want.”

  That was true. Holly had always been able to talk herself into and out of any situation. According to our mother, she’d inherited the skill from Nana, our mother’s mother. Nana was the only family we had left, and she lived in a home in New York City. Luckily, Holly and I were able to take my private jet and fly out to see her every couple of weeks. I’d tried to get her to relocate to an assisted living community here in Silicon Valley, but she steadfastly refused to leave her current residence.

  She had friends there.

  When I told her she’d make new friends, she smiled at me and told me old age was hard on the heart and mind. Saying goodbye to her friends at her current residence was likely a permanent farewell, and she didn’t want to do that.

  She said she’d die in this home and that was perfectly all right with her. She liked the staff and the friends she’d made, and she said she was lucky to have a very wealthy grandson who made the flight to see her so she could kick his ass at chess every other week.

  I understood the reasoning.

  But selfishly, I wished she lived closer. Nana was very special to me—to Holly, too. She was a fierce woman. And a loyal one, too. When our mother and father had died in a freak car accident when we were in college, she’d been there to pick up the pieces of our broken hearts and keep us moving forward. At the time, Holly and I were so wrapped up in our own grief that it never occurred to us that she’d just lost her child, her only daughter. But she was strong e
nough to put on a brave face for us.

  I could never thank her enough for that.

  But I could suffer her cocky attitude every time she beat me at chess. And I could bring her all her favorite desserts when I went to visit.

  Chapter 3

  Piper

  Janie’s fingers drummed along the top of the steering wheel. She was shaking her head ever so slightly as her hard glare hardened at the red light of the intersection. Traffic passed in front of us, and pedestrians filled the crosswalk.

  “Are you going to tell me what you’re upset about?” I asked.

  Janie didn’t look at me. “Oh, you know what I’m upset about. You had a chance last night to tell your parents what the cost really was of you accepting the million dollars. Of what you had to give up. But you didn’t.”

  I frowned. “My father finally forgave me. I wasn’t going to spoil it by saying, ‘just kidding, I’m not going to take the money because I’m in love and I want to be happy, thanks for your support though, I appreciate it.’”

  “Why not?”

  “Janie! My parents are drowning in debt, and I can free them of that. I’d do the same thing for you!”

  “But I would never ask you to,” she said, shooting me a dark look. The light turned green, and she pulled away from the line.

  “They’re not asking me to. They have no idea I’ve actually fallen for any of the men.”

  “They should have asked.”

  I sighed. “Please. I don’t want to talk about this. I finally have them back in my life. We’re finally all on the same page. I’ve made my decision. I don’t need you to make me feel worse about it than I already do.”

  Janie chewed the inside of her cheek. “Fine.”

  Neither of us said anything until she pulled up to the terminal at JFK airport to drop me off. My flight left for Los Angeles in three hours, and I had a new book packed in my carry-on that I planned to read while I ate lunch once I got through security.

  I got out of the car and Janie popped her trunk. She helped me pull my luggage out of the back and then lug it up onto the sidewalk. Then we both stood there feeling a little lost.

  I swallowed. “Please don’t let me leave with you angry at me.”

  “I’m not angry,” Janie said.

  “You promise?”

  “Yes, I promise, Pipes. I just want what’s best for you. And I know—I know—you’re a grown-ass woman who can make your own decisions. But I can’t help myself. I hear the joy in your voice when you speak about some of these men, and I want that kind of happiness for you every day.”

  I’d said it a hundred times over and I’d say it again. Janie was the kind of friend every girl needed and deserved in her life.

  I threw my arms around her in a hug. “I love you, Janie. Don’t think I don’t appreciate what you’re saying. I do. And I never could have made it this far without you.”

  She nuzzled her chin into my shoulder and squeezed me tightly. “You’re damn straight you couldn’t.”

  We gave each other one more squeeze for good measure before I collected my two suitcases. I was trying to cut down this month. Walking around with three suitcases was terribly impractical, not to mention a skill to pull off smoothly.

  We said our goodbyes, and I headed into the terminal to check-in for my flight.

  As I waited in line, I thought about Janie. She had a heart of gold and the best intentions for me. As I did for her.

  When this was all said and done, some of the money was going her way. She didn’t know it yet, and she wouldn’t want to accept it, but maybe I’d be able to carve out a little piece of the pot, and she and I could take that trip to Europe we’d been dreaming about since we were fresh out of high school, bright-eyed and eager to see the world.

  I could take her to Italy. I could shower her with love in the country she’d always dreamed of seeing in the summertime. We could sip specialty coffees and go on wine tours and see the ancient parts of the country we’d only seen in photographs from travel magazines.

  She deserved at least that. And I’d be eager to escape the crushing reality of the year being over and me being alone.

  I picked up my two suitcases at the luggage terminal at San Francisco International Airport. I was surrounded by people of all sorts: free spirits with dreadlocks and massive hiking backpacks, business people in pantsuits with briefcases who’d been on their phones since the plane landed, families with Disney attire who were no doubt planning to hit the parks tomorrow, and then other people like me, solo travelers with no clue where they were going.

  The airport was chaos.

  There was no order. No sense of direction or easy-to-follow layout. The whole place just sprawled in all directions, and everywhere I turned was jampacked with people. I couldn’t just follow the crowd and hope I ended up in the right spot because the crowd was going every which way.

  I decided to make my way toward natural daylight and windows, where I eventually slipped through sliding doors to emerge in the warm November Los Angeles air. There was a powerful wind that blew under the overpass above, and horns honked as taxis and luxury cars inched down the lane in front of the doors.

  I was just about to call Jackson Lee and ask where I was supposed to go when a dark gray Lexus pulled over to the curb. A man got out who was certainly not Max. For starters, he was far too old. Probably in his mid-sixties. He was on the shorter side, too. No more than five-three I’d guess. He had thinning white hair on top of his head and a thick, nicely groomed, salt and pepper beard that suited him well. His glasses caught the light of the airport behind me as he stepped up onto the curb and offered me a big smile.

  “Good afternoon, Miss James. I’m Jonathan. I work for Mr. Fisher. I’ll get you where you need to go today.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jonathan.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Miss James. Max has told me all about you since your first meeting back in December of last year. You know, he might consider this overstepping, but I must say, he was quite taken with you.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Oh. Um. Thank you.”

  To be fair, I’d been quite taken with him on our first meeting. It had been before all this started, before I’d even met any of the other men. I recalled seeing him at the reception desk of the Casanova Club and realizing how over my head I was in all this.

  He’d looked like a god.

  And I’d been suddenly terrified that my sexy leather outfit looked more like a Halloween costume. But I’d trusted Janie’s judgment, and as per usual, she had been right.

  Jonathan loaded my suitcases into the trunk of the Lexus and opened the back door to the car for me.

  I adjusted the strap of my purse on my shoulder. “Do you mind if I sit in the front with you? I’ve had about enough of sitting in back seats by myself.”

  Jonathan closed the door with a flourish and stood up proud and straight. “Delightful.”

  I beat him to the door and opened it for myself, flashing him a smile. He chuckled and walked around the hood to get in his side, and before I knew it, we were pulling out into the chaotic traffic seamlessly.

  Well, somewhat seamlessly.

  People behind us laid on their horns, and Jonathan carried on like they weren’t even there.

  “I hear you work in the restaurant industry, Miss James.”

  I aimed my air-conditioning vent toward myself. “Yes. Well, I did. Things have changed over the last couple of months. My parents owned a restaurant, and I grew up waiting tables there. But they’ve decided to sell. It’s hard to keep the doors open in this economy. And in a city like New York. You have to have a lot of money to keep up with the competition.”

  “Was it a hard decision for them?”

  I nodded. “Very. It took some convincing from me and my brother. But they came around. It’s for the best. For all of us.”

  “Well, that’s very important. It’s funny, isn’t it, Miss James? How our work can be as fulfilling for us as it can
be bad for us?”

  “You are a very wise chauffeur, Jonathan.”

  He chuckled. “Flattery. I like you, Miss James.”

  “Please, call me Piper.”

  We made our way out from under the overpass, and the California sun flooded over the dashboard. I shielded my eyes as Jonathan repeated my name back to me.

  “A good name,” he said.

  “If you say so.” I laughed. “I’ve always thought it a bit odd.”

  “What’s wrong with odd?”

  Palm trees blew past us on the highway. “Nothing, I suppose.”

  Silicon Valley dripped with affluence. The homes continued to grow steadily larger the deeper into the valley we drove, and by the time we pulled up a long winding street, the houses were spaced evenly on acre-sized lots.

  I practically pressed my face to the glass as I admired the homes lining the street. The gardens were perfectly manicured. Expensive and shiny cars winked from the driveways as we passed them. Half of the properties were gated, and some were set so far back on their piece of land you could hardly see the house.

  All of the homes were decked out from Halloween last night. Massive cobwebs were stretched across grand front door archways, and skeletons dangled from the corners of the roof. Pumpkins sat unlit lining driveways and on front steps, and I could only imagine the kind of hauls kids would get on a street like this.

  Those poor kiddos were probably in candy comas this very minute.

  “Nice spot, isn’t it?” Jonathan asked.

  I nodded and kept my eyes on the homes. “It never gets old seeing places like this. This year has been full of them.”

  “Well, Mr. Fisher’s house is quite spectacular. Here, look. It’s just ahead now. The one at the end.”

  I shifted to look out the windshield.

  The house at the end of the street loomed before us like a palace. I blinked as if to make sure what I was seeing was real.

  “Holy shit,” I said.

  Jonathan snorted.

  “Sorry,” I amended. “I just… wow.”

  Jonathan let me soak in the masterpiece of a home as he rolled down the driveway. The house, a massive white beauty with black window trims and accents, only grew larger and larger until it consumed the entire windshield.

 

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