LOUISE’S attempts to distract herself with Beach Street were a dismal failure. Tensed for the sound of the doorbell, waiting for the phone to ring, she was unable to concentrate.
Neither obliged.
Why would they? Max had told her what time he’d pick her up. What else was there to say?
An apology for acting like a jerk, perhaps? Something along the lines of ‘It’s none of my business who you have staying in your apartment…’
It wasn’t any of his business.
Liar!
The little voice that had taken up residence in her head turned up the volume, refusing to be ignored and infuriatingly, she knew that it was right.
The way she’d responded to his kiss, her very bold-
No, she was done with fooling herself; if she was reduced to a blush just thinking about it she’d been a lot more than bold.
The way she’d responded to his kiss, her brazen assertion that she considered it no more than a down payment, made it his business.
When Cal had walked into her apartment as if he’d owned it, owned her, Max had had every right to be mad.
Which was the second time she’d been forced to admit, to herself if not to him, that he was right and she was wrong.
Not good.
Okay. Forget the apology, but he’d said he wanted to discuss their trip to Meridia. He might be mad at her, but he still needed to do that. When he’d calmed down he’d call her and she’d be able to tell him that he’d got it totally wrong, that she and Cal were not an item, never had been, never would be, so he could stop behaving like an idiot and get back here.
The thought briefly prompted a smile. Then reality brought her back to earth.
Apart from the fact that Max didn’t like anyone telling him he was wrong-which was, of course, what made it such a pleasing proposition-there was the small detail of what would happen next.
Would they pick up where they’d left off? With his arms around her and an expression in his eyes that promised her a world of trouble?
And your problem with that is…?
She swallowed, nervously.
Yes?
‘No problem, okay!’
At her outburst, Cal appeared from the kitchen. She glared at him, daring him to comment; he held up his hands in mute surrender and beat a hasty retreat.
No problem, she repeated, but this time silently, in her head. It was time to admit, at least to herself, that she wanted Max to finally lose it, make the kind of passionate, no-holds-barred love to her that he had done in her wicked imagination a thousand times.
Then, surely, she would be able to wipe him from her mind. Get over it. Forget him.
But not right now.
In the past it had always been Max in control of their relationship. Max doing the right thing. Max behaving well…
Just this once she needed to be the one in the driving seat, the one making things happen. If she ran after him, begged him to listen, no matter what happened afterwards, he would still be dictating events.
Abandoning the television, telling herself firmly that whatever he’d wanted to talk about would have to wait until Monday, that she wasn’t hanging around the phone waiting for him to climb down off his high horse and get down to work, she went to take a shower. A very cool one. Then she went to her office to finalise the HOTfood account.
Work had always been an escape from her feelings. They had that in common. He’d been right about that, too. He had done her a favour by firing her from the restaurant.
If she hadn’t been so angry with Max, so desperate to prove herself, she doubted she’d ever have made such a success of her business. She’d have simply drifted from job to job until she’d settled for marriage, children, domesticity.
She’d come close. But Max was always there. An unfulfilled ache…
She turned on all the lights, reached for the file, and she was doing fine until the cell phone on her desk began to ring.
She made a grab for it, then forced herself to let it ring three times, to take a calming breath, before she looked at the caller ID.
It wasn’t Max, but her mother.
The one who’d brought her up. Held her hand when she was nervous. Cuddled her when she was sad. Bathed her knees when she grazed them trying to keep up with Max…
Lied to her.
She wanted to leave it, do what she’d been doing for weeks and let the voicemail pick up, unable to cope with the stilted awkwardness of a conversation where neither of them knew quite what to say, but found she couldn’t do it.
‘Hello, Mum.’
‘Darling? You were so long I thought I was going to get that horrible voicemail thing again.’
‘Sorry. I did mean to call you back.’
‘I know you’re busy.’
‘Yes,’ she said, hating that her mother felt she had to make excuses for her. ‘How are you? How is…?’ She closed her eyes, stumbling at the first hurdle, unable to bring herself to say the word. She’d always been Daddy’s little girl but the minute he’d discovered he had sons he’d brushed her aside. Second class…
‘Good,’ her mother said, quickly filling the too obvious silence. ‘Daddy’s a lot better. Walking the dog, eating plenty of fruit and fish, keeping the stress levels down. Even finding time to play a little golf now he’s retired. The heart man is very pleased with him.’
‘That’s good.’
‘Oh, it won’t last. He’s bored out of his mind, fretting about the business. Whether Max is coping.’
‘Coping? You’re joking. He’s in his element. Full of plans-’
‘You’ve seen him?’ Then, not waiting for an answer, as if that too was some information she had no right to, ‘I know how capable he is. He shouldn’t have had to wait so long for his chance. But Uncle Robert wouldn’t retire unless your father did, and you know your father…’
Her mother pulled up again realising, perhaps, that was the one person she didn’t know.
‘He’s fretting, Louise. The restaurant was his life. Maybe if you could come over, go for a walk with him, reassure him…’
No, no…
‘That’s why I was ringing. Is there any chance of you coming to lunch tomorrow?’
‘I don’t-’
‘No one else, just us,’ she said, offering swift reassurance that the prodigal sons wouldn’t be there.
How much more painful all this must be for her mother, Louise thought. To have her own inadequacies as a woman so cruelly exposed, to be eclipsed by the sons of a woman who’d taken money from William Valentine to ‘disappear’.
‘It’s been so long since it was just the three of us.’
But it never had been just the three of them. She had another mother and father, John Valentine had sons…
So many lies.
She couldn’t…‘I’m just so busy at the moment. I’m in the office now.’
‘You work too hard, Louise.’
‘I love what I do, but this is different. I’m going to be working for Bella Lucia from Monday and I’ve got a lot to clear up before then.’
