by Carol Rose
Nicole scrubbed her potatoes in silence.
“Did you know he was legally emancipated at the age of sixteen?” Ruth asked.
“Yes.”
“He did that deliberately to get them off his coattails. Everywhere they went they were ‘Maxwell Tucker’s parents.’ His father even got a job at the publishing house he was working with then. They were really cold people, but they didn’t mind using their son toward their own ends. Max didn’t trust them to keep their hands off his money and he wanted them out of his life.”
Nicole couldn’t keep from saying, “A lot of people have bad parents, Ruth.”
“I know, but Max’s brilliance combined with his parents complete lack of parenting left him…I don’t know, isolated. He’s never really known how to communicate with other people…except on paper. On paper, he’s unmatched, really.”
On paper and in bed, Nicole thought, depressed. When they were making love, he’d been so tender…so passionate. But people couldn’t live in the sack.
Never in her life had she felt so torn. They had no real future. How could a person love someone they couldn’t trust? Max’s isolation and social disconnection might have led him into a poor choice out of his loneliness, but how had his life changed since that? Wasn’t he just as lonely? How could she expect him to make better choices in the future? And was it even desirable for her to think about Max and the future in the same breath?
“I can’t really explain him,” Ruth acknowledged. “I’ve known him since he was very young. Just starting out publishing really. I’ve seen him terrorize people with his cold tongue. He can be difficult. I’m the first to acknowledge he’s not easy—not with me or with Cynthia, but with his assistants. With me, he’s great. A really good friend. He’s never egotistical like some authors. He doesn’t require me to stroke his ego and tell him how wonderful he is all the time. He doesn’t even give me crap when I take a day or two to return his phone calls. Max knows I have other clients—although none as successful and prolific as he is.”
Ruth sighed, obviously grappling with the complexity of a man she felt a clear loyalty to. She obviously cared a lot for Max.
“I’ve read every word he’s written. I know he has a heart and a soul. This man who has trouble connecting with other people…he gives very generously to charities, although I’ve only had hints of it, just snatches of things really. He never allows any of his donations to be publicized.” Ruth wiped her hands on a dish towel. “We were talking about marketing and I asked him once why he didn’t want his gifts publicly recognized. He said there wasn’t much effort in a rich man giving away money. Plus, he doesn’t really care how people see him as long as they buy his books. That’s true, you know, but not true. He’s not the kind to worry about his reputation…but he needs someone…to care for him, you know?”
“I guess,” Nicole said slowly, “I need to understand how a woman like Alexa—from your description of her—could tempt him into hurting his brother.”
Even if she didn’t want a future with the man, Nicole hated thinking of Max as a man troubled enough to screw his brother’s wife.
Ruth looked at her, her face thoughtful. “You have to understand several things. First off, Pete’s pretty inaccessible himself. It wasn’t like he was ever there for Max. I think I told you that he always kind of resented Max’s success—“
“I understand that,” Nicole interpolated, “but his brother’s envy doesn’t give Max the right to make-out with Pete’s wife.”
“No.” Ruth pondered a moment. “As best as I can remember, the situation with Alexa happened when Max was particularly vulnerable.”
Nicole said nothing, her glance slicing to Ruth. How many of her students had ended up doing some stupid, illegal thing right when they were having trouble at home or with a girlfriend? She knew about vulnerability. It made some choices more understandable, but it didn’t automatically change the consequences.
“I know, I know,” Ruth said. “He doesn’t seem vulnerable in any way. But he’d written a particularly dark book. The kind that always leaves him needing an outlet afterwards. He was between sex partners at the time…and I think he was beginning to feel lonely for the first time in a long time. He’s always been lonely, but it was worse those few months before…the situation. Then, Alexa just kind of homed in on him. Begging him to let her redo a room in his place. She was over there all the time.”
“She must be quite a seductress to get Max to forget who she was married to.”
Ruth sighed. “It wasn’t so much a matter of forgetting as it was that…Alexa and Pete had been having trouble for quite awhile. She had her own life and he had his. At least, that’s the way it seemed the last few years they were together. And in those months before Pete found them kissing, she was at his apartment everyday. Supervising the decorating and hanging around. In fact, Max’s assistant at the time complained to me about it.”
Nicole was silent, grappling with the image of another woman in Max’s arms. Hating it and making herself face the possibility.
“He made a foolish mistake,” Ruth said, after a few minutes, “and he’s paying for it big time. But he’s not a bad guy. He…just needs…someone to help him connect to the world. Someone to entice him into…focusing some of his communication skills on the world around him.”
“And you think I could be that someone,” Nicole said slowly. Yes, that was what his friend meant, but what a tremendous effort it would involve. She’d have to give up the life she’d built for herself.
Was he worth it?
Ruth’s response was measured. “If you wanted to be, I think you could be very good for him.”
“You’re forgetting one thing,” Nicole said, her gut twisting in pain and confusion. “Even if I did decide I wanted to pursue…something long-term with Max, he has some say in this as well. Today he classified me along with Alexa—as big mistakes he’s made in his life.”
“I’m sure he was upset,” Ruth said, her head bent over the salad. “You know you’re nothing like her.”
“No?” Nicole murmured, trying hard to sort the situation through. “Maybe not, but I’m not sure a person just ‘gets over’ something like this. A man who has that kind of lapse in judgment…what makes it different in the future?”
Not saying anything, Ruth kept working on the meal.
Clearly, Max was nothing like he seemed at first. The ice-cold guy she’d first seen had a deep, complex, tortured personality. No wonder he was generally misunderstood and not always liked. In the hours since realizing she’d fallen in love with the bastard of the publishing world, she still couldn’t decide what her feelings meant for the future. Or even if she wanted them to have a future.
Max wasn’t a troubled teen who could be eased into talking about his problems and, from there, guided to a better kind of life.
In fact, she probably should pack her bags and go home now. Some people didn’t change, no matter how many chances they got. She’d learned that from working with teens, too.
Going home might be the best plan. She was pretty sure that Max wouldn’t follow through on suing her father. He probably never would have carried the lawsuit through to an actual courtroom. He just didn’t seem likely to spend his life—and his money—in years of legal wrangling. From a practical point of view, he’d probably have let go of the plagiarism issue way before they’d gotten to a judge. Her father would have been out thousands of dollars in legal fees up to that point, but Max would have eventually dropped the suit.
Unfortunately, believing that didn’t really clear things up. Certainly, it didn’t solve the issue of what to do with the part of her heart Max currently occupied. She cared about him, dammit and she couldn’t decide—was he worth the effort?
Since he’d walked away from her in the park, she’d thought of nothing else—even wondering if he was safely back at the apartment…and would he let her in tomorrow, if she decided to show up? If he was so upset by her finding out about his b
ehavior with his brother’s wife, would he cut short their business involvement and find another way to finish the book?
Despite everything, to her frustration she couldn’t quite stop caring about him. Almost without realizing it, she found herself turning over ways to help him nurse his battered self to some semblance of normalcy. But she wasn’t stupid enough to think the task an easy one. How many women had come to grief trying to change a man?
Even if Max wanted to claw his way through his horrific past choices and create a new future, could he? Was he even capable of opening himself up to the world? And why would she think she could entice him into such a major change?
So far, all she’d managed to do was share two torrid sexual interchanges with him. She’d given him her body and a big chunk of her heart…did she want to go forward with this? Make a stab at making it work?
She didn’t know.
The only thing she was certain of now was that they couldn’t just pick up where they’d left off before she’d discovered the depths of his trouble.
* * *
The next morning, Max opened his apartment door for Nicole, trying to ignore the hard thumping in his chest.
“Good morning,” Nicole said, brushing past him as she had every other day since she started working for him.
Except for yesterday. Yesterday morning she’d greeted him at the door with a hot, open-mouthed kiss…and then he’d proceeded to try and ignore her erotic power till he’d finally broken down and nailed her on the landing. Or let her nail him. It had seemed pretty mutual all the way around and deeply, intensely, satisfying.
But he knew he could never go there with her again, not and maintain his sanity…certainly not if he wanted the damned book finished.
Watching her disappear into the office, he told himself to focus instead on the fact that she was there at all. He had to admit to some surprise about that. She’d been so angry and…hurt yesterday in the park, but here she was, back at work.
They were going forward, it seemed and he was relieved that, at least, the book was safe.
Or its transcription was. The work itself seemed to be taking him places he’d never before gone and who the hell knew what that meant for its eventual success. He was still anxious to hear Cynthia’s opinion of the work.
But his first anxiety could subside. Nicole was here and hopefully they were going to finish the book. That was what mattered. Even if he couldn’t expect her to accept him with all his flaws, she might at least help him save his work.
Max followed her into the office, not sure what to say, but aware of a need to bridge the awkward gap between them. There was no point in going into the situation yesterday. He had no excuses to offer, but surely she’d expect some further explanation. He knew he’d cut her off and walked away from her.
Sitting down at the computer, Nicole pushed a button, the monitor screen leaping to life…just like every other work day.
With a mixture of confusion and relief, Max realized they weren’t going to rehash yesterday. He’d dreaded having to face her recriminations almost as much as he’d half-expected her to call him and tell him to shove his book up his ass. But here she was, still working for him, if not with him.
No, clearly not with him. He really should be relieved. If she’d go along, they could simply pretend the last day and a half hadn’t happened.
“I’ve left another full notepad for you to transcribe,” he said, feeling awkward, his hands and feet seeming too big all at once.
“Yes, I see,” she said coolly, turned away from him.
Struggling with a bizarre feeling of regret that he told himself was about the sex, Max said, “Well…, I’m going up to work.”
“Okay.” The clatter of the computer keys seemed to shut her off from him.
Climbing the stairs, Max hesitated on the landing, his mind filled with thoughts of loving her there. Her naked, bucking body clenching around him to the point of anguished pleasure. Turning away from the broad window, he climbed to his bedroom level. The windows in the bedroom filled the room with a beautiful eastern glow.
Sprawling on the floor there, Max began to work. To his surprise, the book began unfolding again in his mind and flowing onto the writing pad. He worked, lost, while the sun shifted overhead. Unmindful, he filled page after page.
A sound at the door finally disrupted his absorption. Turning, he saw Nicole there, an unaccustomed awkwardness in the way she stood near the door. After her coolness an hour before, the sight of her up here was startling.
She made a sniffing sound and he saw that her eyes were bright.
“I…just thought I’d…tell you…this is the best thing you’ve ever written,” she said abruptly, nodding toward the pad in her hand. “It’s compelling, gripping, tender. By far the best of everything you’ve ever written.”
“What?” Max frowned up at her, profoundly touched by her gesture in seeking him out to compliment the work and puzzled by the magnitude of the statement. Particularly, since she’d taken his mistake with Alexa so hard. He’d repulsed her by his past behavior, that much was obvious.
Hesitating, he demurred, “I appreciate the comment, but you’ve hardly read everything I’ve ever done.”
She looked down at the pad a moment and then raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “Yes, I have…. Did you know they have a copy of your final senior thesis in the library at New York University?”
For a moment, all he could do was look at her, overwhelmed that she’d apparently invested so much of her very-minimal free time in…him.
“Well,” she said, turning toward the stairs, “I’ll finish this.”
For a long time after she’d disappeared from the room, Max stared at the spot where she’d stood. He couldn’t quite…fathom her. She wasn’t particularly super-intelligent, certainly not in the way measured on I.Q. tests, but she still somehow continually surprised him…and warmed him. What was it about this woman?
His reverie was finally disturbed by the sound of the phone ringing. Max didn’t move. He knew Nicole would get it and deal with whomever was interrupting him.
For a moment, he thought about the call yesterday that had disrupted everything. Where was Pete now? Was he working? Had he slept any better last night than had Max?
When Max hadn’t been thinking about his stupidity with Nicole, he’d been thinking about the harm he’d inflicted on Pete. There were times when Max would give anything not to think. He ached for the power to shut off his brain.
“Max!” Nicole called from the bottom of the staircase. “Cynthia is on the phone.”
He got up and went to call down to her, “Thanks. I’ll get it.”
“Hello, Cynthia,” he said into the bedroom phone.
“Max,” she responded, her voice warm. “How are you doing today?”
“Actually…pretty good.”
“Really? That’s great. Nicole answered the phone, so I gather she’s there and…everything is okay? She realizes the Pete-Alexa thing wasn’t all your fault?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Max said, his voice dry. “Let’s just say we’re apparently returning to our work relationship as if yesterday—and the night before—never happened.”
“Really?” Cynthia sounded concerned. “That’s not good.”
“On the contrary,” he disagreed, ignoring the heaviness in his chest. “I think it’s for the best. She’s here and I’m working and that’s not bad.”
“Okay. So, I didn’t ask yesterday, how’s the book going? Any problems? We’re getting pretty close to deadline.”
“Yes, and I’m going to make it. Don’t worry,” Max said, glad to be able to reassure her. Why the woman cared about his success, he didn’t know. He made the publishing house a lot of money, but Cynthia’s concern for him extended far beyond that.
They’d worked together and been friends for several years now. He respected her work as an editor and he knew she respected him.
“I’m right on schedule. No prob
lems,” he assured her.
“Oh, good,” she said, sounding relieved. “That’s great.”
For some reason, Max felt compelled to add, “You might want to know that this book isn’t…my usual work.”
“You mean you don’t think it’s up to par?” Cynthia asked, surprised. “Are you sure you don’t need more time? I know we’ve missed several deadlines, but—“
“It’s not an issue of time,” he said. “The book just has a different…tone.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Cynthia said quickly. “You know we trust your judgment.”
“Fine,” Max said as she said goodbye and then hung up.
Feeling faintly dissatisfied with her response to his comment about the book and, at the same time, reassured, he put the phone down.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Two days later, Nicole hit the standby button on her keyboard and watched the monitor screen go black. She was no nearer a decision about what to do with her feelings for Max, but she did know she had to at least try to help him see life outside his self-imposed prison.
The last two days hadn’t been a war zone, but there’d been no fun and games either. Despite her strong feelings for Max, she was keeping a close guard on her emotions. She wasn’t crazy about the idea of turning her entire life upside down for anyone.