Room Service

by Chance Carter

  I didn’t have long to wonder, however, since the moment Jeremy was on his way to the elevator, Max buzzed me in again.

  I didn’t buzz back to ask him what he needed. I knew he wanted me to come into his office to finish our conversation, and I’d been preparing for it while he and Jeremy talked. Handing in my notice was one of the hardest things I’d ever done and my heart ached. I had spent the past ten minutes trying not to cry at my desk, so I didn’t know how well this conversation was going to go. I didn’t know whether it would be better for him to beg me not to go or just accept my resignation with the cold attitude he displayed on the flight.

  Rearranging my skirt, I rose and walked over to his office door. I took a final bracing breath before I entered.

  Max was waiting inside, his intelligent crystal-blue eyes watching my every movement as I stepped into the room. He looked stressed, his hair a tousled mess and his suit jacket and tie hung on the coat hook by the door. I immediately wanted to comfort him, to wrap my arms around his thick torso and squeeze until he forgot everything that was plaguing him. Unfortunately, one of the things this time was me.

  “Why don’t you sit down,” he suggested, gesturing to the chair Jeremy had only just vacated. I would’ve known Jeremy had been right there even if I hadn’t just seen him, there were paper clips and other detritus strewn all around the otherwise immaculate desk space.

  I nodded and sat down, folding my hands in my lap and looking at Max expectantly.

  “I’m at a bit of a loss for words, Emma,” Max began. “I guess I should start by saying I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back, looking casual and very handsome. “I was a complete asshole to you on the way home from Punta Cana and I would take it all back if I could. I figured I’d get a chance to explain myself to you, though. I didn’t realize it was so bad you’d end up quitting.”

  “That’s not why I’m quitting,” I replied, shaking my head.

  Genuine confusion twisted his features. “It’s not? Then why?”

  As much as I appreciated his apology, I had to remember that I’d made a decision on this. I couldn’t change my mind just because he was saying a few things that I wanted to hear.

  “I got this job because I was seeking independence,” I said. “Sleeping with the boss completely negates that fact. I want to go out on my own and succeed on my own merits. I need to go out on my own and succeed on my own merits.”

  Max looked almost hurt. His eyes grew wide, his brow creasing in the middle. His hands twitched on the desk as if he was suppressing the urge to reach out for me. I was suppressing the urge to reach out for him too.

  “Emma,” he said softly. “You will always succeed on your own merits here. You’re great at what you do. Brilliant at it, really. If you’re not happy with an aspect of your position, I’m more than willing to negotiate.”

  If only it were just a problem with my job. This relationship was much too deeply embedded in my position though, so any problem with either was going to slip into the other.

  “It’s like I said, Max, it’s an independence thing. I’ve loved working here and I hope I can count on you for a good reference, but I need to be somewhere else.”

  Somewhere far away from you...

  I wondered if there would come a day when it wouldn’t hurt to think of Max anymore. I reminded myself that I was doing this for my future happiness, and my future happiness depended on me leaving this job and Max. I needed a clean break.

  “You want to go out on your own,” he said, slowly nodding. “That’s something I can understand, certainly. I’m happy to support you in this transition. My only question is if this means you’re quitting me too?”

  My heart thudded painfully. This was what I’d been dreading, the very thing I’d hoped to avoid as long as possible, even though I knew it needed to be ripped away quickly and cleanly like a band aid.

  “Yes.” My voice was so soft that I was worried he hadn’t heard it. He was staring at me blankly, completely still save for the rise and fall of his breathing.

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  A spark of irritation flared to life inside of me. “You can’t let me do that?”

  He shook his head, gazing down at his folded hands. “I think you’re going through something right now, and I can understand you wanting to quit the job, but I can’t understand you wanting to end things when I know how you feel about me.”

  I shot to my feet. Did he have to make everything sound so much like a business transaction? Not that it would have swayed me, but it wouldn’t have hurt for him to use this as an opportunity to tell me exactly what he felt about me. Instead, he said we couldn’t break up because of how I felt about him? That was exactly the kind of arrogant shit Max would pull.

  “Gee, with an impassioned declaration like that, there’s no way I want to break up.”

  Max stood and walked around the side of the desk. I watched his approach with my fists clenched at my sides, staying perfectly still. His eyes were warm… and filled with kindness. I didn’t resist when he pulled me against his chest, because it felt too good to have him hold me. He swayed me back and forth, lips pressed against the crown of my head. I loved it when he held me like this and tried to commit the feeling to memory, since this was the last time I could allow it to happen.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m a bit new to all of this. I don’t always know the right thing to say.”

  “No shit,” I said, my voice muffled against his shirt.

  His deep laugh rumbled through me. “You mean a lot to me, Emma. I don’t want to lose you. Tell me what I can do.”

  It was amazing to hear him say those words. Sometimes he had his sweet moments where I felt like the most important girl in the world, but there were other times when I wondered if he cared about me any more than any of his other business contracts.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” I sniffed, tears threatening. “I already had a relationship where I waited the whole time for our interests to line up, and I can’t do that again. I care about you and it’s hurting me to have to leave, but I can’t keep waiting for something that’s never going to happen.”

  Max stiffened, no longer swaying me. He pushed my shoulders back until our eyes met. His eyes narrowed on mine, sky to earth.

  “I want you, Emma.” His voice was thick with emotion and frustration. “I want you so bad that I would rather peel the skin from my bones than see you walk out that door. Isn’t that enough?”

  I didn’t answer, too blindsided by the depth of the feeling in his words. That and I didn’t think I could even speak without immediately bursting into tears.

  Max let out a frustrated growl, my only warning before he swept down and pressed his lips to mine. I curled up against him out of instinct, just like I always did. Chest to chest, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. There was a little nook in his body that I fit perfectly into, and settling back in after a couple days of barely talking was like coming home.

  Max kissed me feverishly, pulling me tight to him with one hand on the back of my head and the other on my waist. My own hands clutched pathetically at the front of his shirt when they should have been pushing him away. I couldn’t help it. Kissing him was my personal addiction, something I was going to have to quit cold turkey if I wanted to fix this. Right now, I didn’t want to fix it. I would stay under his thrall forever if it meant I got to feel like this. Cared for. Cherished.

  His mouth trailed eagerly down my jaw, gliding along my throat and making me gasp. He tightened his fist in my hair and pulled my head back, exposing more of my neck for him to hungrily devour. I was weak with lust. My knees trembled, struggling to hold me upright. If I didn’t have Max’s arm supporting me, I probably would have slumped into a pile of nothing on the floor.

  Max’s teeth scraped along the delicate flesh where my shoulder met my neck. This time, my gasp was more of a moan. His hardness ground against my stomach and my mouth watered as I thought about how sexy
it would be to have one last office tryst. We could do it over his desk. We could do it under his desk. Fuck, I didn’t care where we did it, as long as I got his cock in me. I wouldn’t feel right until I was full of him, surrounded by him.

  Him. Him. Him.

  “Stop!” I jammed my hands against his chest and sent him teetering backward.

  He was panting. We both were.

  “That’s exactly the problem, Max,” I said to the unspoken question in his eyes. “I get so wrapped up in you that I forget about me, about what I want. But I know what I don’t want, and that is letting you lead me around behind you for the rest of my life because I’m too weak to go out there and seek what I want on my own. I’m sorry.”

  The hurt in his eyes nearly killed me. I could tell he was searching for the right words, but if he hadn’t found them by now, I doubted he was ever going to. And that was just something I’d have to live with.

  I loved Max Westfield. Max Westfield didn’t love me. He felt all sorts of things for me, sure, but love wasn’t one of them.

  A muffled ringing cut through the tense silence of the office. It was my desk phone.

  Max anticipated my action. “Leave it,” he said. “Please… leave it.”

  The word ‘please’ coming from his lips sounded almost as sinful as when he whispered naughty things to me while we made love. But no amount of ‘pleases’ in the world could have stopped me from taking the opportunity to get out of that explosive situation.

  I gave a tiny shake of my head, rearranged my clothes and hair, and strode out of Max’s office.

  Chapter 30

  Max

  It was sometimes nice to work late, because the office became peacefully quiet after everyone left. There were always a few stragglers, burning the midnight oil to make whatever deadline they had on their plates, but for the most part I had the place to myself. Emma had gone home at the proper time, and every time I walked past her empty desk I was reminded of what it was going to be like in a couple of weeks when she was gone for good.

  Well, not quite like this. Her desk was empty, and in two weeks it likely wouldn’t be. There would be another person waiting outside my office in case I needed anything, but that person might as well be a mannequin compared to Emma.

  I came back from the kitchen with a steaming mug of black coffee and passed Emma’s desk again, frowning the whole while. I was feeling sick and unhappy about things, but I didn’t know what to do about it.

  Why couldn’t I just tell her that I loved her? I’d tried to, but the words came out all wrong. I’d never told anyone I loved them before. I was hardly accustomed to the idea that I was in love with someone in the first place, and telling her how I felt seemed like a step further than I was prepared to go.

  Maybe we just needed some time. Maybe she just needed some time. Maybe this would all work out in the end.

  I sat back down at my desk and continued working. Or trying to, at least. Our kiss from earlier kept flashing through my brain, scattering my thoughts each time it popped up. It was a great kiss, but a goodbye kiss. I didn’t want a goodbye kiss.

  We hadn’t talked for the rest of the day, and she didn’t even come to say goodbye when she left. Was this what the next two weeks were going to be like? I wish that I could regret getting myself in this situation in the first place, but I couldn’t. I was hurting now, but every iota of torture was worth it for the time we had spent together.

  And I wasn’t finished fighting for her yet. I didn’t know what my next move was, but I wasn’t finished. Emma wanted to move on, and I wanted to respect that decision because I respected her. The only problem was that I didn’t want her to move on, so at some point our interests were going to collide.

  I heard the sound of my phone vibrating on my desk with a text. It was my mother, asking me why I wasn’t at home. She apparently hadn’t learned her lesson and still favored popping by unannounced.

  I told her I was working late tonight, but that I’d come by and see her afterward if she wanted. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do anyway.

  Twenty minutes later, I was surprised to hear the sound of high heels clacking down the hallway, growing nearer and approaching my door. For a moment, I thought perhaps it was Emma, come back to change her mind. Wishful thinking, it turned out.

  “You mustn’t work yourself so hard, you know,” Mother said, bustling through the door. “You’ll get wrinkles on that handsome face of yours. You’ve got my skin, you know. You do wear sunscreen, don’t you?”

  She was carrying two plastic grocery bags, which she dropped on my desk atop a stack of paperwork. The bags were hot and smelled of peanuts and garlic. My mouth watered.

  I ignored her question about the sunscreen and leaned back in my chair, gesturing toward the bags. “What’s this?”

  “What do you think it is? It’s obviously food, dear.”

  “Yes, but why are you bringing me dinner? That’s not like you.”

  Paulina’s mouth flattened. “Can’t a mother bring her son something to eat?”

  “By all means,” I said, spreading my hands. “I suppose as long as it’s not home cooked I don’t have to worry that you’ve been taken by body snatchers just yet.”

  She scowled, but began unpacking the bags, placing a variety of take-out containers on my desk.

  I couldn’t remember the last time my mother had done something quite so... motherly. It was out of character, but in the end, quite appreciated. My stomach rumbled at the sight of the steaming entrees she arranged in front of me.

  “I couldn’t remember what you liked, so I got a little bit of everything,” she said. “You do like Thai, right?”

  I nodded, already digging into a noodle box of phat khing. “I like everything.”

  It struck me funny that Emma wouldn’t have had to ask. She knew, almost instinctively, all of my likes and dislikes. Nobody liked everything and I was no different, but Paulina would forget by the next time, and I didn’t want to upset her by turning my nose up at her thoughtful present. It was easier just to pretend.

  Paulina settled into the chair across from me, tucking a paper napkin into the collar of her shirt and arranging more onto her lap. When she caught me looking, she winked.

  “It’s a thousand-dollar dress, darling.”

  I chuckled, happily chewing a mouthful of spicy noodles and tofu. “So, what brings you all the way over here?” I asked. “If you’ve come to give me more shit for the Baldric thing, you should know that my capacity for taking shit today is grossly overwhelmed.”

  “That sarcasm,” she mused. “Your father was all about the sarcasm. Sometimes I swear I can hear him when you speak. It is equal parts wonderful and disturbing.”

  Her eyes took on a far-off look and I wasn’t sure whether she expected a response or not. I was hesitant when anyone drew any comparison between my father and I, especially my mother. But this time it seemed she was being nice.

  “To answer your question,” she said, coming back to herself. “I just wanted to come and see how you’ve been doing. We haven’t really talked much recently, except to exchange sharp words. I thought maybe we could put our weapons away and enjoy a nice meal together.”

  “I’d like that,” I said, trying to hide my surprise by dipping my face to slurp up more noodles.

  “Tell me then, how are things in your life, Maximilian? How’s Emma?”

  The noodles stuck in my throat, and I had to swallow hard to dislodge them and send them on their way. The last thing I wanted to deal with was my mother’s gloating, but I couldn’t avoid the question without her calling me out for it.

  Ah well. May as well bite the bullet.

  “Emma quit and dumped me,” I said, stabbing my chopsticks into the container.

  “What?”

  The horror in Paulina’s voice caused me to look up at her. Yup, sure enough, there was horror on her face as well. I did not understand this woman. I would’ve thought she’d be celebrating by now, ca
lling up all the women on her Bachelorette shortlist and telling them they had another chance to win a rose.

  “She wants more independence,” I replied. “And we have different ideas about what our future should look like.”

  “Let me guess, you want to be a bachelor forever.” She put down her container on the edge of the desk and grabbed one of the bottled waters, cracking open the lid and shaking her head.

  “It’s not that I want freedom to play the field at will or anything cheap like that,” I defended. “I don’t believe in marriage. Look at you and Dad, for Christ’s sake. You two started out happy and look what happened.”

  Paulina closed her eyes in irritation, like she used to when I was a child and got too annoying. “Maximilian Augustus Westfield, you are a fucking fool.”

  My jaw dropped open. I’d never heard her sound so serious before, and she rarely swore, choosing more dramatic forms of speech. I tried to recall the last time I heard her say a swear word any more brash than shit. This was strange, especially considering she was sober.

  “I think you’re over—” I tried to say, but she held up a hand to silence me.

  “Listen to me, darling. I’ve had my hang ups about your relationship with Emma, and I’ll be the first to admit that perhaps I judged her a bit too soon. That being said, I can see how happy you are with her. You’ve suffered from a few of your father’s faults in your lifetime, but one in particular has been your coldness.”

  “That’s not true,” I said. “I’m not cold. I’m always very friendly.”

  “Ah, but that doesn’t mean you’re warm,” she said. “You’re friendly and polite, sure, but you don’t make connections with people, Maximilian. You’ve got one true friend, and I suspect the only reason you two are friends in the first place is because you grew up around each other and Jeremy annoyed you until you finally gave into him. You’ve never opened yourself up to another person so easily as you did with Emma. Perhaps part of the reason I’ve been so adamantly trying to set you up is because I feared you wouldn’t come across a partner naturally. I won’t always be around, dear, and the thought of you living out the rest of your days as a lonely old man was positively taxing. I was hoping that you’d form the same connection with one of my girls that you eventually went on to form with Emma. And, yes, perhaps I was a teensy bit offended when none of the girls I’d chosen were good enough, but your new assistant was.”