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Authors: Elle Aycart

Tags: #Contemporary Romance

To the Max (8 page)

BOOK: To the Max
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What he did didn’t sound like the safest of jobs. Props failed and accidents happened.

Her phone beeped again.

Always. Besides, I’m the big badass honcho doing all the pillaging.

She shook her head, closed her phone, and went to feed the rats. She put some lettuce on the second floor and waited. Nothing. Still a bit insecure, she placed the food on the first floor and hurried to close the door. She studied the wooden ramp for a second. She was going to get Tango and Cash upstairs. If for nothing else than as a way to repay the immense favor Max was doing for her.

While they ate, Annie sat on the deck and surveyed the huge backyard, listening to the birds and wind ruffling the surface of the lake. Her condo was smack in the center of Alden. It was a small town, but still. Nothing compared with this. This was like living in the woods. It was beyond beautiful. And it had Max written all over it: a chill-out area with a table, chairs, and barbecue equipment; a hot tub; a huge hammock hanging from two trees; a big, circular trampoline; a speedboat on the shore of the lake; and a long wooden pier, probably for the daredevil to throw himself headfirst from.

She moved to the hammock and, holding tight, tried to lie there without being rolled over to the ground. The whole thing felt too shaky, so she went to the sun lounger. She turned on her e-reader and one-clicked several books on the romance book list. More Highlanders. A biker. Great. If the hot flashes got too hot, she could always throw herself in the lake.

* * * *

It was only nine o’clock, but the bar Max and half the film crew frequented at Manhattan Beach was already full.

The girl sitting beside him gestured to the stage, where a local band was playing. “They are good. Entertaining.” Then she trailed her finger down his chest. “I’m much, much better.”

He smiled at her. Susan was her name. Pretty. Chatty. She’d been angling for him since he’d entered the place. Film-crew groupie. “I’m sure you are, sweetheart.”

His phone beeped, and he reached for it. It was a picture from James. He and Tate had made it back from Italy but were spending several weeks in Florida at the Eternal Sun Resort before returning to Boston. Tate was sitting on James’s lap, as usual. Both were grinning. Max’s dad was beside them. Mr. Nicholson and several other senior residents were there too. All of them were holding cards. Max chuckled softly. Poker night.

Pity he couldn’t be there. He loved those seniors. They were a riot.

“Who are they? Are they in the movie too?” Susan asked, peeking over his shoulder. Then she pointed at James. “He surely looks like it.”

Yep. Film-crew groupie. Stacked fluff. Not that he had anything against it; he loved stacked fluff.

As he closed the picture, Max noticed the weather app on the home screen and frowned. “Excuse me,” he said to the girl as he stood up and moved farther from the music.

There was a storm over Boston. It was midnight back home, but without thinking twice, he dialed. She answered right away.

“Ace, you all right?” He knew how hard the branches would be whipping at the windows. And those late-summer storms were killers. The rain would be pouring.

“Hi, Max,” Annie answered, her voice a bit shaky. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” She tried clearing her throat to sound more steady, but she wasn’t fooling him.

“I hear there’s a storm cooking. I thought about checking up on my girls.”

“Your rats are fine.”

He knew that, but he wasn’t really calling about them. “What about you?”

He heard a roll of thunder from the other end. Then silence for a long second.

“Ace?” he asked, worried.

“Not so fond of being in such a big house alone during a storm,” she whispered at last.

“Where are you?”

“I finished securing all the windows, and I’m getting into bed. I doubt I’ll be able to sleep with all this racket.”

“That’s nothing. You should have been there before the remodeling, with the wind actually blowing through the house and all the pipes whistling and the wood crackling.”

He could almost hear the shudder in her voice. “No, thank you. I’m already scared enough as it is. I’d even welcome Tango and Cash squeaking a bit for company, but for once the traitors are quiet, hiding in their rat holes.”

“Go to my bedroom to sleep. There’s a TV mounted on the wall. You can use it to drown the sounds from outside. And I have a kick-ass mattress.”

She seemed to consider it for a moment. “Thanks, but I’ll stay here and read a book. By the way,” she said, not giving him time to complain, “I noticed when I went to your bedroom to make sure your window was closed that you have a yoga swing hanging from your ceiling. I didn’t know you practiced yoga.”

“I don’t. That’s a sex swing.”

“A what?”

“Wait a sec.” Max downloaded a picture from the Internet, a rather outrageous one, and sent it to her. “Check your mail.”

She obviously did, for she squeaked. “Oh my God. Groosssss. And I’ve touched it. Now I’ll have to bleach my hand.”

He chuckled. “No sweat. It—”

“I’m not particularly worried about sweat,” she interrupted him. “It’s other bodily fluids that have me more freaked out.”

“If you had let me finish, you’d know I meant ‘No sweat. It’s unused.’”

He heard her snort. “Right.”

“Seriously. It was a present. A certain adult magazine had a special edition about girls on sex swings last spring. Guess who got to do all the Photoshopping? Yours truly, boob-and-ass-enhancer extraordinaire.” He could hear Annie laughing at the other end. “So when we got a swing as a present from that promoter last month, the boys decided I should have it. They came and installed it.”

“You’re something else, Max.”

“I sure hope so.”

The band started playing a rather popular song, and Max moved to a far corner. “Where are you?” he barely heard her ask.

“A bar on the beach.”

“You’re at the beach?”

“This is California, Ace. Damn hot still. We were surfing this afternoon after shooting. How are you doing? Is the fetus still behaving?”

“Yes. I’m not throwing up anymore. Now I’m just eating crispy bacon twenty-four seven.”

“Well, that’s an improvement. So, the munching I’m hearing?”

“Bacon,” she admitted.

Max laughed. “Your fetus is acquiring good taste.”

“It seems that way.” She paused for a couple of seconds and added, “Maybe we should stop calling it fetus.”

“Okay. Have you been thinking about names already?”

He heard the smile in her voice. “No. Let’s start with baby.”

“Baby it is,” he conceded.

“I’m going to go shopping for pregnancy books.”

“That’s probably a good idea. Wikipedia only goes so far, right?”

Annie burst into laughter and said something he didn’t get because suddenly the whole place erupted in a shout.

“Wait a sec, Ace,” he told her and walked to his table. “Guys, I’m out of here.” The girl who had been sitting beside him pouted, but he didn’t let her displeasure deter him.

“I’m back,” he said into the phone as he was leaving the bar. “Now I hear you.”

“Max, go to your friends. I can manage. And you probably have things to do.”

“Nope. Nothing else to do.” And it was true. He’d rather continue talking to her than stay at the bar. “How’s everything?”

She sighed. “Very busy in the office. I got a new client. Humongously deep pockets. Ever heard of Franke Enterprises?”

“The telecommunication empire?”

“That one. Complicated accounting. I’m auditing several of their companies. Aside from that, same old, same old. Work, book club, gym classes.”

“How are your CC meetings going?”

“My what?”

“Clits and Chicks meetings. The romance e-book club?” he asked while Annie chuckled. “Has Christy sent anyone else to the hospital?”

“Not that I know of. Then again, I’m in the more resilient group.”

“So unfair. I’m still offended I’m not allowed to join it.”

“No, you are not. We’re just a bunch of ladies reading smut,” she joked. “The last book was about a Highlander. You would have been bored to death.”

“Such a gender injustice,” he continued, ignoring her.

“Besides, we end up talking about everything except books.”

“You talk sex, right?”

“Yes,” she admitted grudgingly.

“A total injustice.” She giggled. He didn’t know why, but he got a huge kick out of making her laugh. “What else is new?”

“I’m thinking about occupying your dining table with a puzzle. I love doing puzzles. It relaxes me.”

“Occupy away.” As long as she finished it before he made it back and didn’t require his help, he was good.

“Okay. I might do that.” Then, after a long pause, she said, “I’ve been thinking about contacting the father.”

She didn’t have to explain what she was talking about. “And?”

He could almost see her shrugging. “I don’t know. Once it’s out there, he has rights, you know what I mean?”

“It’s scary,” he stated.

She sighed. “Yes, it is.”

“You don’t want him in your life?” he asked cautiously.

“I don’t think so, but we’re not talking about my life only here.”

True. “I don’t know what to tell you, Ace. I grew up without a mother, so I think fathers are important to kids. Then again, there are fathers and there are fathers. I believe it’s your call who you involve in your kid’s life. That said, I would be totally pissed if I had a kid somewhere and I wasn’t told.”

“I’m sure, but you are you,” she murmured. Then she did one-eighty and changed the subject. “How are things going on your end, Conan?”

She didn’t seem to want to talk more about the subject, and he wouldn’t be the one forcing her. “Viking, Ace. I’m a Viking.”

“That’s right. Breaking many hearts down there?”

“Nope, too busy pillaging.”

She chuckled softly. “That’s what I’m afraid of. When are you headed for Canada?”

They chatted for a long while—about the film, about her work, about everything and anything—until the storm raging outside relented and she was so drowsy he knew she was half-gone.

“Ace?”

“Mmmm?”

“I’m hanging up now.”

Her voice was sweet and low. “Okay. Good night, Boob Enhancer.”

He smiled. “Good night, Pregnant Lady.”

* * * *

“So, did you speak with Luigi already?” Christy asked as Annie pushed the shopping cart in Home Depot.

“No. Not yet. I put a request in.”

Holly turned to her. “A what? Who is he, the king of the universe?”

“I can’t spring the whole thing on him by e-mail, can I? I had a meeting with a lady at StudsRus.com and tried my best to explain the situation.”

“And you told her…”

“That I stiffed one of their gigolos and wanted the opportunity to personally apologize.”

Christy and Holly gaped. “Really?”

Annie rolled her eyes so hard she could see yesterday. “Of course not. I did what normal people do when they contact an escort service: I asked for the catalog, found him, and put in a request to meet.” She’d left him a short note, explaining she was the girl from the gala and telling him she had something important to discuss with him. Now it was all out of her hands. If he never contacted her, there was nothing she could do. She would let the whole thing go. After all, growing up without a father wasn’t so bad, considering the alternatives. She herself knew that better than most.

“Are you sure you want to talk to him?” Christy asked, looking concerned.

Annie lifted her shoulders. “Sure? No, not at all. That’s a conversation I’m not looking forward to, but if he contacts me, I will.” It was a matter of principle for her. She had no reason to suspect the guy was an asshole, and he had the right to know. Whatever he did with that right, whether he chose to ignore it or not, was none of her business.

“Again, can you remind me what we’re looking for here?” Holly asked, glancing at the tall, long aisles. “I’ve forgotten already.”

“Carpeting. It’s an experiment,” Annie explained.

“Man, you need a GPS to navigate this place. We should have dropped bread crumbs. We’ll never find the exit. As soon as you see the camping section, grab some sleeping bags. Just in case we’re stuck the night here.”

“Ahead of you,” Christy mumbled. “I took a flare gun. If we shoot it, someone is bound to notice.”

As they turned the corner, they ran into the carpeting department. Thank God, because they’d been totally lost. Last time they were in Home Depot was…never. Holly was right; it was going to be a miracle if they found their way out.

“Okay, here we are,” Holly said. “Now what?”

“I’m searching for a thick, outdoor carpet. Preferably red.”

“What do you need red carpeting for?” Christy asked.

“I’m going to do some decorating of my own.”

* * * *

It had taken her much longer than she’d expected. Then again, she wasn’t that adept at DIY projects. She had no clue whether this was going to work, but she hoped it would, seeing as she’d cut her fingers twice and almost maimed herself with the hammer.

“Come on, come on,” she chanted. A couple of minutes passed and then bam, jackpot.

Annie grabbed her cell, made a video, and sent it. She picked up her snack and headed for the hammock, counting. Thirty seconds for watching the video. Couple of seconds to dial, and she should be getting a call in three, two, one…

Right on cue, her phone rang.

“That was unbelievable!” Max shouted. “You got my girls to the second floor! Hell, you got them running up and down!”

She lay on the hammock. “I sure did,” she answered, feeling extremely full of herself. She’d carpeted the ramp, and ta-da, Tango and Cash had made it up to the second floor on the first try.

“And there was no caffeine involved, was there?”

“No caffeine.”

“You’re a genius, Ace.”

“Yeah, ain’t the human race lucky I use my power for good and not evil?” she joked. “Your girls just needed some style, so I got them red carpeting.”

It had occurred to Annie as she watched Tango fumble up the ramp and throw herself down. The sound of her nails against the wood had been loud, as if Tango had been trying to anchor them to something and couldn’t.

BOOK: To the Max
8.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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