“Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” I said on instinct. Then I shook my head, and my shoulders dropped. “No, not alright at all. My sister isn’t feeling well. I’m sorry Laura, but I’m going to have to bail on you. So much for trying to take you out for a nice meal.”
As if on cue, the waiter appeared with our burgers.
Laura smiled up at him. “So sorry, but could you bring us some take out boxes?”
The server cocked his head to the side.
Laura rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, just like menus, you don’t have those here, either?”
Had I not been so concerned for my sister I would have laughed. But I was concerned.
Our waiter pressed his hands together. “I think I could throw something together for you.”
“Thank you. Please hurry,” Laura said.
He returned with our food in less than three minutes, and I dropped a wad of cash on the table. He thanked me profusely as I led Laura out of the restaurant. We emerged on the busy city sidewalk and my driver, who was down the street, inched out into traffic to get closer to pick us up.
“Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do?” Laura asked.
I shook my head. “No. Don’t worry about me. I have this under control. It—it happens more often than I’d like. I’ll have my driver take you back to the office. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be back today. If your kids have any questions for me ask them to write them down and I’ll talk to them all tomorrow.”
“They’ll be fine with their mentors. We’ve got it under control.”
“Thanks,” I said, craning my neck to watch as the driver made his way back to the curb. When he parked close to us, I walked Laura over and opened the back door for her. She got in and I stood with one hand on the door. “This lunch was supposed to make up for how I’ve been behaving the last week and a half.”
“Just a week and a half?” she asked. The corner of her mouth twitched and there was a twinkle in her eye.
“Yeah. Well. I had to start somewhere, didn’t I?”
She lifted up her to go box with her burger inside. “Consider everything in the past. You made it up to me. Now, go see Catherine. And hey, tell her I said hello.”
I nodded, “I sure will.” Then, stepping back I closed the door and tapped the roof to send her off.
With no time to linger to watch the car pull away, I focused my attention on hailing a cab—something I hadn’t done in years. Apparently I hadn’t lost my touch, because the first cab that swung by was free. He pulled over and I got in the back seat. I took a hundred dollars out of my pocket and slid it up to him. “If you can get me to Leo’s Deli on Spruce in ten minutes, another hundred is yours.”
“Yes sir.”
Lucky for me, Leo’s Deli wasn’t all that busy. I must have just missed the lunch rush. I ordered Catherine a bowl of her favorite soup—squash and ginger. I also grabbed her half a vegetarian sandwich with extra cream cheese, and a Christmas cookie.
My cab driver had waited outside for me. When I got back in I handed him the other hundred dollars, and then gave him Catherine’s address. The same rule applied. If he could get me there in fifteen minutes, another hundred bucks would be his.
I was there in nine.
After paying the driver I made my way across the lawn to Catherine’s apartment building. It was a decent place. Clean, well cared for, and three stories. There were only twenty five units in the place. Most were young families or older couples. That suited me fine. It was a safe building with no single young men poking around.
My sister was a serious catch. I didn’t want her blowing it on some random guy with nothing to offer her.
I knocked on her door within thirty five minutes of her calling me at La Bouche.
“It’s open,” I heard her call from inside.
Sighing, I took a deep breath to muster up the courage to go in. If this was what Catherine thought it was—her MS symptoms returning as they did every few months—it was going to be rough.
She’d never been ill over Christmas and that would make things even harder than they needed to be.
I pushed inside, then closed and locked the door behind me. “Where are you?”
“Bedroom,” she called back.
Her place was a bit of a mess, which I took as a bad sign. Normally it was immaculate, with sparking kitchen counters and perfectly placed stacks of books topped with candles or some sort of figurine that meant something to her. A lot of her decor was our mother’s.
The curtains were drawn in the living room. Another bad sign. When she didn’t feel well she hid from the sun. No matter how many times I’d tried to tell her she should be doing the opposite, she resisted, telling me I didn’t understand.
And I didn’t. So I didn’t fight her on it and let her keep the curtains closed.
On the way down the hall to her bedroom I noticed the mess in her bathroom. Makeup was strewn across the counter, the curtain was crooked, the towels all hanging haphazardly from the rack. The mat was folded and the floor was in need of a good sweeping.
So she hadn’t just woke up feeling bad. This had been going on for a few days at least.
Her bedroom door was open a crack, but I still knocked before stepping in. It creaked as I pushed it open and stood there in the doorway with the bag of food in one hand. “Hey,” I said.
Catherine was propped up against her headboard. She had her baby pink pajama set on. Her eyes were puffy from crying and the tip of her nose was very, very pink. “Hey.” As soon as the word left her lips she crumbled, squeezing her eyes closed as a sob escaped her, and then she buried her face in her hands as her shoulders shook and she cried. Hard.
Hurrying over, I set the bag of takeout by the edge of her bed. I sat down beside her, gathered her up in my arms, and held on as she cried her heart out. “I’m sorry, Cat. So fucking sorry you have to go through this again.”
She clung to me. “I know.”
“What can I do?”
“You’re doing it.”
I held her tighter and rested my chin on her head.
Damn this disease. Damn it and damn the cancer that killed my mother.
I was Max fucking Miller. I was the guy who could have and do whatever he wanted. I was powerful. I was made of money.
But there was no amount of money in the world that could spare my sister this pain. No amount of money that could have saved my mother from the cancer.
I was just as useless now with my billions as I’d always been. I was doomed to sit on the sidelines, watching those I loved suffer, while I did the only thing in my power to do—hold them.
If she told me to never let go, I wouldn’t. She was my baby sister. I was supposed to protect her. It was my job.
And I couldn’t do it.
Chapter 18
Laura
“I’m starving,” I growled, as I crouched down in front of the mini fridge in my office back at the foundation.
Ella was sitting on my sofa typing away on her laptop, but she looked up and said, “I could eat. What goodies are lurking in that magical fridge of yours today?”
I pushed a couple containers out of the way to get a look at everything. “We’re working with leftover mac and cheese, shortbread cookies, or half a cup of tomato soup. Pick your poison.”
“Is it weird if I say soup? I’m feeling something cozy.”
“Not at all. I wanted the mac and cheese anyway.”
“This is why we’re such a perfect pair.”
“You can say that again,” I said, taking the containers over to the microwave to heat them up.
As I warmed the food I stepped out of my boots and put them near the coat rack by my office door. Then I sat down on my ass on the floor and massaged my feet.
Ella arched an eyebrow. “What on earth are you doing?”
“My feet are killing me. I was walking around all afternoon and these boots are new. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to break
them in today.”
“Rookie mistake. Now your feet are going to bother you all week.”
“Thanks for the ray of sunshine.”
“You’re welcome,” Ella said as she slapped her laptop closed. She’d been working at sending thank you emails to the attendees of the fundraiser. “All done. Only a couple more to send out tomorrow afternoon and then everything to do with that fundraiser is behind us.”
“Until next year.”
“Naturally. But let’s not think about that right now. We still need to come down and recover from this one.”
The microwave beeped, so I brought Ella her soup and curled up on the other end of the sofa to spoon piping hot cheese covered pasta into my mouth. As soon as I swallowed the first bite my stomach sang sweet hallelujahs.
Ella watched me eat with fascination. “Have you not eaten all day or something? Slow down, girl. You’re going to choke on your food.”
I shook my head. “I ate lunch, but that was just after noon and I didn’t have a chance to eat anything since.”
“It’s almost ten o’clock. You need to start keeping more snacks in your purse and your office.”
“I know. You keep telling me.”
“And you keep ignoring me.”
I shoveled more pasta into my mouth to avoid answering her.
Ella shook her head at me and slurped her soup off her plastic spoon. “So. Now that our work for the day is done, it’s time you spill the beans. How was the first day? How were the kids? Any hiccups?”
“No hiccups. Not one, actually. Kind of surprising.”
“Why surprising?”
“Max is good at messing things up.”
“Intentionally?”
I considered her question. “No. Not always. Sometimes he even tries to make up for said mess ups.”
Ella continued slurping her soup. “Elaborate.”
She always knew when I was keeping something to myself. I thought back to lunch that afternoon with Max—well, our attempt at having lunch together. It had been his way of trying to apologize for being an ass for the last couple weeks, and I appreciated it. At least he was able to recognize he’d screwed up and had the nerve and decency to be vulnerable about it.
That was something the old Max never would have done.
“He invited me out to lunch to make up for all the nonsense at the fundraiser. And for being late when I went to see him at his office. And for a bunch of other things, I suspect, but he never said so.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Some uptight high end place called La Bouche,” I cupped my bowl of mac and cheese between my knees so my hands were free to make jazz hands when I said the name.
Ella’s eyes widened. “La Bouche? Seriously? That place is supposed to be amazing. Of course, I’m only saying what I’ve read in reviews, but the best of the best eat there. Did you see any celebrities?”
“Um. No. I wasn’t really looking for them.”
“What? He took you to a place like that and you weren’t on the lookout for some famous hunks?”
“No. We had a private booth.”
“Of course you did,” Ella said. She stirred the last bit of her soup and finished it off. “Was it any good at least?”
“It was cold.”
“For what I’m guessing the prices are it certainly shouldn’t have been cold.”
I backtracked and explained why my food was cold, detailing what had happened after Max got a call from his younger sister Catherine. “She has MS. She’s had it for as long as I’ve known Max. And I know she has good months and bad. From the sounds of things, this might be the start of a few bad months ahead.”
Ella took our empty bowls to the sink and rinsed them out. “I feel for him.”
“Me too.”
“You never know what sort of battles a person is fighting, you know? Even though he has all this money and success, he’s really just like the rest of us.”
“Don’t say that in front of him.”
Ella wiped her hands on a towel hanging from a cupboard drawer handle in the kitchenette, then came back over and sat down on the sofa. She tucked one leg under herself and rested her elbow on the back of the sofa. “I wouldn’t. I don’t know him well enough.”
“His sister is probably the most important thing in the world to him. It used to really get him down when she was sick back when we were away at school. He would drop anything and everything for her.”
“But not for you?”
I could feel my eyebrows drawing inward. I pursed my lips as I thought about her question. “I don’t think I ever asked him to.”
Ella didn’t say anything. But I knew there were a thousand thoughts zinging through that wicked smart brain of hers. Thoughts I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Thoughts about me, and about Max, and about us working together again. About his sister. His money. His good looks.
“The kids had a great day,” I said, glad to have found something to latch onto to steer the conversation away from me and Max.
“Tell me everything.”
“Lewis and his mentor became fast friends. They even moved his computer from his assigned desk space to the other side of his mentor’s, so they could be closer together.”
“That’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve heard in weeks.”
I told Ella all about the kids and their first day at Nova Corp. The whole day had felt like I was living a fairy tale. It kept getting better and better with every turn. All the mentors were incredibly helpful and accommodating.
At the end of the day I’d pulled all the kids into a private room to ask them how things were going. I heard nothing but good things from all of them, and they were all looking forward to coming back bright and early tomorrow morning to learn more and see what they could accomplish.
“Do you think Max will want to make this a program, or do you think he’ll throw in the towel after this internship?” Ella asked.
I pulled the hair tie out of my hair and massaged my scalp. It ached all over from having my hair pulled up all day. “To be honest? I have no idea. I think there’s a pretty good chance he’ll keep it going. It became pretty obvious today that the main thing he cares about is that the work gets done and it gets done right. If you are a good member of the team he wants you there. And why wouldn’t he want to keep a good thing going like this?”
“I don’t know. It looks good for his company that’s for sure. But you’re the one who knows him. And you seem to think he’s a bit of an asshole.”
“Because he is an asshole.”
Ella giggled. “And do you think that will be a problem going forward?”
“Are we still talking about the kids?” I asked suspiciously.
Ella shrugged. “I don’t know. Are we?”
I once again found myself backed into a corner. She kept bringing the conversation back to him. Always to him.
And there was nothing I could do to avoid it. So I just blew past it and pretended it hadn’t happened.
I leaned forward and opened my purse which was sitting on the coffee table. I fished my phone out of one of the small interior pockets.
“Who are you calling?” Ella asked.
“I’m not calling anyone. I’m just going to send Max an email.”
Ella untucked her leg from under herself and stood up. “Alright. You do that. I’m going to run down the hall and grab my laptop then we’ll go home?”
“Sounds good,” I nodded. Ella left my office. I listened to her shoes tapping on the floor all the way down the hallway to her office as I sorted through my emails until I found the last one from Max and hit reply.
I stared at the blinking cursor for a moment. My mind was suddenly blank and I realized I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. I just knew I should say something.
Hey, I’ve been thinking about Catherine all day. Hope she’s alright. She’s a tough one.
I groaned and deleted all the words I’d just typed. To me that felt like crossing a
line. I had been the one to drill it into his brain that things between us were going to stay strictly professional. So reaching out and being all soft about his sister might send the wrong message—even though it was the truth. Catherine was one tough cookie. Even though things might be hard for her right now she would come out the other side with her head held high.
But none of that was what I really wanted to say to him. I was worried about him, not her. He was the one who used to carry the burden of her MS on his shoulders —like it was his fault somehow that she was sick. It had plagued him back in college, and I hadn’t missed the way his body language changed when he got the call from her today. It was like I was suddenly sitting across from the twenty-two year old version of himself from my past. Frightened. Worried.
And a little angry.
I took another stab at the message and kept it nice and simple this time.
Hey Max. My burger from La Bouche was delicious, even though it was a little cold by the time I got around to eating it. Thanks for taking me to a place I can tell stories about for years to come. What kind of restaurant doesn’t have a menu? The kids all had a great day and can’t wait for tomorrow morning. I can’t come with them tomorrow, but I’ll be there on Wednesday. Let me know if you need anything. P.S. I’m thinking about your sister.
That message struck a better chord than the last. Humor was the best way to break awkward barriers. I hit send just as I heard Ella’s shoes clipping back down the hall toward my office.
Then I collected my things, shrugged my arms into my jacket, and met her outside my office door.
I was ready to go home. It had been a long day.
Chapter 19
Max
My legs fell as heavy as cement as I carried myself down the hall to my front door. I slid the key into the lock and pressed it open, rolling my shoulder around the edge of the door to close it with my back. I stood there, resting up against the door, and closed my eyes.
It was two in the morning. Maybe a bit past two. Exhaustion had sunk into my bones around midnight, but I hadn’t been able to leave Catherine. She was in no state to be left alone. So I stayed, made sure she ate her soup and sandwich, and sat on her bed with her while we watched Disney movies. It was her recipe for a bad day, and, if history was any indicator of how things were going to go, this was just the start to many bad days.
Brand New Man Page 11