Dream Man (Executive Women in Love Book 1) (8 page)

“Yes. Let me get my purse.” She walked ahead, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door.

Max resumed holding her arm. The warmth of her skin comforted him beyond measure.

They made it to the restaurant with nary a flashing bulb.
Good.
The plan seemed to work. Max rang the bell for the side entrance. Janice, their private host and waiter greeted them with exuberance and apparent happiness at seeing them.

They settled in the cozy booth with long-stemmed white candles already lit and soft music playing from the speakers overhead. Janice asked what they liked to drink and Max ordered his staple, dry martini straight up. Felicity asked for sparkling Saratoga water, with lime.

A moment of silence passed and then Max said, “Tell me what’s new at Sharpen.”
Crap!
Why did he open things up for shoptalk?

“It’s exciting. I think we’ve done a great job with recruitment and advertising. I’m happy our first season line-up is complete, with five women in various industries spanning from finance to beauty . . . all CEO’s of their own organizations.”

“Nice.”

Janice delivered their beverages, announced the evening’s specials, and told them she’d be back in a few minutes to take their orders.

“We’ve got the back-stories complete. Oh, and I need you to look at Margo’s interview. Next up are on location shots. We’ll feature their relationships, whether they are married or had a domestic partnership, and their children. We have one woman who is a lesbian and the rest are heterosexual. Two of the ladies are single and out on the dating circuits.”

“So we’re set.”

“For the first season, but of course we’re already on the hunt for more recruits for Season Two.”

“Always thinking ahead, I see.” He squeezed her hand across the table. She didn’t shy away.

At first.

Then she withdrew, sipped her sparkling water, barely, and continued without a breath, “And yes, thanks to Doug’s support he’s asking for another season. Did you know that? I have to say he’s one of the best people I’ve have the pleasure to work with, besides you.” She blinked and gave him a flirty smile.

His heart about leapt to his throat.

Max nodded as he sipped his drink. He opened the menu and noted Felicity did the same. They made their selections and gave their order to Charlotte. Max inquired as to whether Felicity would like a bottle of wine with dinner but she declined.

The conversation during dinner continued in a polite, but too platonic for Max’s taste. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him after all.

Maybe he needed to probe a bit.

Janice served desserts and coffee.

“Have you heard any more from your old boyfriend?”

Felicity’s eyebrows shot up but she didn’t appear to be offended.

“He’s sent a few more texts asking me to get together with him . . .” Max’s heart dropped. “. . . to return some of my cherished books. I know he has another agenda. But, if it’s over, it’s over. He had his chance. I’m not going back.”

“How did you find out about his cheating, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He’d started off so supportive, with Jenny and all. I told you about the living situation. After I gave in to move in with him, I happened to discover several girls’ numbers in his pants pockets and then the text messages pretty much gave him away. I don’t get it. Why anyone would want to compromise a good relationship?”

Crap.
He bet she had trust issues. He didn’t blame her. But, then, he didn’t maintain to best example of monogamy.

She continued. “How do they even have time to juggle two separate lives?” Felicity paused but obviously didn’t want an answer. “Anyway, I’m quite happy on my own. Between Applaud! and Sharpen I don’t have time for anything else. Besides, I’m young and have plenty of time to worry about a relationship later.”

Great. And therein lies the ten-year age-difference hurdle. She was still in the ‘single girl’ mode and he—he didn’t know
what
mode he was in
.

In that moment, Max wanted to take this relationship to a higher level. Despite his misgivings. He chuckled thinking that not too long ago he doubted if he wanted to take the plunge. Max had a sneaking suspicion Felicity only put up a front to protect herself about getting involved.

“I can’t help but ask . . .” Felicity seemed tentative but Max braced himself anyway. “. . . but what’s really going on with Melania?”

Relief flooded through him. He’d thought she’d ask about his past. Something he definitely didn’t want to get into.

“Nothing. She’s been a little clingy. You can’t blame her. She’s new to the country and uprooted herself from her family. So, she leans on me a bit.”

“But isn’t it the same with her other friends with the foreign contingent at your school? Why are things different with Melania?”

“Things aren’t different, necessarily. She may be a little spoiled. I think it originated in Costa Rica. She was the youngest of three children and the only girl.”

“She seems to be in love with you.”

“No. Not at all. She only likes the attention. Believe me. She demands it from everyone. And she has her share of dates.”

“Why do the tabloids have you two involved?”

God! Felicity looked so cute the way she tilted her head with shards of green shooting out of her adorable eyes.
Could she be jealous?

“Because it’s the reporter’s job to stir gossip. Why all the questions?” Max took her hand and kissed it. “It’s
you
I’m interested in.”

Felicity’s luscious and pouty lips were slack as her jaw dropped slightly. Max wanted to devour those lips.
Now.

Felicity appeared to be satisfied with his explanations about Melania. He’d been surprised she had even been concerned about Melania. She was the least of their problems.

Dinner drew to a close. And, sadly, Max feared, soon would the evening. After paying the bill, Max asked if Felicity would be up to some dancing. He knew a jazz club slightly off the beaten path. It was quaint. Quiet.

She thankfully agreed.

In the car, he put his arm around Felicity. For a second he expected her to withdraw. Instead, she curled into it. Into a perfect fit.

Max enjoyed seeing Felicity in a relaxed state and not playing hyper-focused professional she did so well. She needed to unwind and decompress.

He put his nose in her hair. She smelled musky with a combination of vanilla.
Sweet
. Soon he would devour those lips.

Felicity enjoyed the dinner with Max, except for the voluptuous Latina server, Janice, who seemed to be flirting with Max every step of the way.

Then Felicity thought she messed up, a little, when she got to talking about work. Maybe she’d come off too strong. Too standoffish and overly focused on her career.

But, then, in the car on the way to the jazz bar, she’d thought she might have had him. He kissed her cheek and chills ran down her spine. Then he moved closer and tucked her under his arm. She so wanted to kiss him. But, considering how well the first time went when she made the first move, she’d second-questioned herself and decided not to.

At the jazz club, Max asked her if she’d like a drink. She backed down from her own personal promise to abstain from alcohol and asked for a white wine. A couple of wines after the big dinner shouldn’t hit her in the head.

Old-school Sade played by the five-piece jazz band got her wanting to dance and she couldn’t help herself so she asked, “Hey, why don’t we dance?”

Max got up and led her to the dance floor, twirling her once and directed her into a slow dance. The heat from their physical closeness reached every cell of her body. She dared not glance at him but tucked her head on his shoulder.

The song hadn’t ended before he curled a finger under her chin and Max stared at her lips for an excruciating moment. He finally brought her lips to his. A soft, innocent, tongue-less kiss, yet amazingly erotic. And then he led her off the dance floor to their seats.

Her soul yearned for more of his touch. It took all of the willpower in her being not to crawl on his lap and kiss him until she set this man on fire.

But, she didn’t.

They danced a few more times, she had a couple more wines and before she knew it, the band announced their last song for the night.

During their final dance, Felicity longed to stay glued to this man. Forever.

But, hell, it’d been only their first date.

And she had a six-date rule. To which she’d firmly adhered.

The kissing turned more heated on their return trip. Thank goodness for the privacy window that separated them from Max’s driver. He opened his mouth and filled hers with silky playful tongue action she’d be sure to write about in her journal.

My God, the man could kiss. But there’d been a deeper feeling inside of Felicity. Like she belonged with Max. In a more authentic way than she head ever experienced with any other man. But, she could’ve been caught in the moment and tried to rationalize away the thoughts.

Her self-control didn’t work very well.

At one point it seemed like his hand accidentally brushed the side of her breast as though to size it up a little. She forced herself to back off, ever so slightly. He moved his hand away to behind her back and pulled her close to him for more kissing. Felicity was practically on his lap by the time they got to her neighborhood and the making-out never stopped.

“I’d like to ride about town consuming those lips all night,” he whispered in her ear.

Ah but all good things had to end. The six-date rule.
Remember it, girl.

Max kissed her more.
Tantalizing.
As evidenced by the telltale wetness between her thighs.

“I’ve had a wonderful evening,” he huskily whispered in her ear. Then Max held her away as though to take in her facial features. “You are exquisite. When can I see you again?”

For real? How about you stay?

“Soon. I have a busy week ahead.” Could she have possibly controlled her mouth?
She meant to sound neutral and open the door for him to propose another date. Instead she had to sound all businesslike.

“As we both do. But there’s tomorrow. No business on Sunday.”

Actually, she’d planned to go to the studio. She decided to be bold. “What do you have in mind?”

The driver turned the corner onto Felicity’s street.

“How about brunch? You sleep in.” He touched her cheek and let his finger trail down to her chin and lifted it to kiss her once again. “And I’ll pick you up around one?”

The car came to a stop.
Why did the night have to end so soon?
His dark eyes bore deeply into hers. She so wanted him in her apartment.
Now.

Max softly pulled her to him, his hand wrapped tightly in her hair and his smooth tongue slid into her mouth, playing a dance she didn’t want to stop.

But it had to.

“Let me walk you to your door.”

And then at the door another long, luxurious kiss she didn’t want to stop. It took every ounce of will to withdraw, open her door, and get safely inside without him.

She leaned against the door and jolted out of her reverie by Tinkerbelle, her text-messaging alert.

Crap.
Brad again. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone?

Leave it to a text message from an ex-boyfriend to destroy the mood.

Chapter 8

Felicity stretched in her bed as the morning sun streaked through the blinds. She awoke in the middle of a dream about Max. It’d been a lovely continuation of the previous night. She’d abandoned her plans of working at the studio and was glad to be off on this glorious Sunday. She set about to make a pancake breakfast for her sister. She wouldn’t eat since she’d be going to brunch with Max. She peeked in Jenny’s room finding her still sound asleep. Well, it was only eight o’clock.

Still, she needed her coffee fix. She padded over to the kitchen and went about brewing the coffee, took her phone off the charger, and turned it on.

Tinkerbelle sounded again from her cell phone, alerting her to another text message. She peered at her phone. Yep, she remembered now Brad had sent her a text last night.

Can you meet me for a coffee tomorrow afternoon? I’d like to return your novels and see how you’re doing.

Right. Like he cared. More realistically, his latest conquest had fallen through. It’d been six weeks since she’d broken it off with Brad, her boyfriend of three years. He changed her outlook on men for the rest of her life. How would she ever learn to trust again? To love again?

Therein lay the problem with Max. With his schedule of traveling the world, his very well-known reputation of non-commitment and his string of doting women following him about Felicity wasn’t sure if she wanted to risk her heart—or waste her time.

Felicity stirred the pancake batter with her mixer as it splashed all over the counter and cabinets. Jenny crutched her way into the tiny kitchen and put her finger in the bowl taking up a good amount of pancake batter and put it in her mouth. “Mmm, good. Love the taste.” She dipped her finger in again.

Felicity swatted it away.

“You could get sick from eating the raw batter.” Felicity made her way to the stove, checking on the bacon already brought to a nice crisp, the way Jenny liked it. Then she started pouring perfectly sized pancakes on the skillet.

“You’re in a good mood. How’d things go with Mr. Famous?”

“Oh fine.”

Jenny poured a glass of OJ and persisted, “You gotta give me more than that.”

“Honestly, I can’t figure out if Max thinks of me as just another one of his women or a friend with potential benefits.”

“Huh?” Jenny jumped on a chair at the bar.

“Like a conquest, casual date, someone to wine and dine and subsequently leave. He obviously has no time for a relationship. He’ll be off to some foreign country doing his movies or worldly goods before we could have a chance to start anything serious.”

Jenny picked out one of the roses Max had given Felicity and took in a deep breath. “Seems like he’s willing to make more of an effort than most guys.”

“I also have the conflict of working with him.”

“But you said he’s been laying off the work scene, taking a back seat.”

“It’s true.” Felicity flipped the pancakes. “Maybe I should simply nip any possibility for a relationship in the bud before it budded.”

“Why are you being your own naysayer?”

Felicity put the pancakes on a serving platter along with the bacon and placed them on the breakfast bar. She grabbed her cup of coffee and sat across from Felicity.

“Maybe I am.”

“I say go for it. He obviously has the hots for you.”

“As a matter of fact, he asked me to brunch today.”

“See, I told ya!” Jenny hit Felicity on the shoulder.

Felicity feared she had more of the hots for Max than he her. And that would totally suck.

Max awoke with a warm glow, which lingered from the previous night with Felicity. She got to him. Max wished he could settle down with a woman. Thirty-five was looming around the corner. But, heck, in Hollywood years he was still considered a baby and at the pinnacle of his career.

He put on a pair of designer jeans and a polo shirt. It was a beautiful day. He planned to pick Felicity up with the new Porsche. Maybe they’d take it for a drive on Pacific Coast highway with the top down and let the sun sink in.

Once at Felicity’s apartment, Max knocked and she opened the door with a dreamy smile and wearing a pink sundress, her hair full of loose curls. Max appreciated her natural, lightly made-up face. A refreshing contrast to most of the Hollywood women he’d dated.

Before she said word one, Max pulled Felicity in for a deep kiss. He couldn’t resist. Just the feel of her soft lips against his awoke an unintended physical reaction. An awakening he’d tried to hide numerous times the previous night.

Chill out, man
. This would be only their official date number two. Or three, counting the first dinner out. Or four, counting their first encounter at the emergency room.

No, those didn’t count.

Max chuckled at his own teenage ramblings. He brushed his hand on Felicity’s cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

Felicity seemed shy. She had an adorable, innocent appearance as she withdrew from his arms. It was ironic that such a fiercely independent and driven woman could be self-conscious in a tender moment. “Thanks. I had a great time last night.”

“As did I.” Max glanced around her apartment. “Where are the dogs and Jenny?”

“Oh she went out with her friends to a picnic and took the dogs with her.”

“Ready then?”

“Yup.” She grabbed her bag from the couch and they were off.

Max observed Felicity checking out his cherry-red X17 Porsche. She seemed mildly impressed, but he could see she tried not to show it too much. He’d had it detailed for the occasion.

“Nice wheels. How many of these do you have?”

“Two. Thanks. I thought it’d be a perfect day to drive with the top down.”

“I agree.”

On the way to the restaurant she asked, “Do you mind if we stop at a convenience store? I need to get bottled water.”

“Sure, no problem.” Max pulled into a Circle K and offered to get it for her but she insisted on getting it herself. She needed to pick up “something else”, probably girl’s stuff.

He heard a sound, like Tinkerbelle. He spotted her cell phone, which she’d left behind on her seat. Max supposed the sound had to be her cell phone alert. It went off two or three times. Max didn’t want to pry but his eyes inadvertently went to the flashing light. The display read ‘Text from Brad.’

Normally Max wouldn’t dare touch someone else’s property. Yet, curiosity got the better of him. Besides, didn’t she say her old boyfriend’s name was Brad?

He tapped the text indicator key and the message read:

Felice, maybe you didn’t get my text. I really need to meet with you. It’s important, babe. Besides, I found those books you wanted. Meet me at the Starbucks at two.

Hmmm. So, she had been in touch with him. Not that it was any of Max’s business. Yet she’d claimed it’d been a clean break.

The context of the message seemed to imply they communicated . . . possibly often.

Maybe Max had let his insecurity get the better of him. And this kind of insecurity was not something he’d been accustomed to. He knew he behaved childishly by reading the text, yet the thought of Felice reuniting with Brad niggled his mind.

He couldn’t blame Brad for trying. Felicity was one heck of a catch.

Felicity returned to the car after getting her bottled water and Kotex. Unfortunately, nature called at the most inopportune moments. Her cell phone indicated she had a text. She pressed the back light button and it was Brad. For the third time since last night! Why was he being so persistent? She tried like hell to close that chapter of her life for good, yet he attempt to draw her back to it.

Maybe she should find out what he wanted and get the business over with. Later. She’d deal with it then. She didn’t want to destroy her afternoon with this handsome man.

Oh no.

The thought occurred to her that Max could have seen the text. Her fault for leaving the cell phone behind. Could he care that much to have wanted to check her message?

It’d been a little prying but shoot, she wouldn’t have minded. How flattering if Maxwell Marx would be so concerned.

Just in case, she thought to address the issue. “Sorry if I seem distracted.” She waived her cell phone in the air. “I hate when people keep checking their texts when in the company of others and here I’m doing it. It’s my ex. He found some books I’d left behind and—”

Max seemed to let out a sigh of relief. He took her hand and squeezed it. “No, it’s me who needs to apologize. I heard the persistent alert tone and well, curiosity got the better of me and I took a little peek.”

“It’s okay. The notification sound is a bit loud. I can’t figure how to adjust the volume.”

“I’ll look at it for you. So you’re still in touch?” Max gave her a sidelong glance.

The question sent her heart reeling.
He cares!

“No, not at all. I did leave behind a few precious books in my rush to leave our apartment and asked him to contact me if he found them. We haven’t talked since I left.”

“Gotcha. Sorry, I shouldn’t have pried.”

The welcoming sun beat down on Felicity. Max’s hand was in hers and all was good with the world. They continued the rest of the way to the restaurant in a comfortable peaceful silence.

Even though it was a lone ocean bistro on an isolated stretch of the drive, Boswell’s
was crowded. Max escorted Felicity through the back door and a man who introduced himself as Sam led them to a table in a private room. Max’s fame certainly had its advantages.

“Another private room?” Felicity asked.

Max’s deep dimples revealed themselves in his broad smile. Felicity liked to see Max happy. At times, she detected a somber haunted look in his eyes and wondered where it originated. Beneath the cool exterior of Hollywood’s famous bachelor there existed a story. One in which she’d hoped to uncover.

“It’s the only way to go.” Max pulled her chair out for her to sit.

Sam gave them the menus and took their drink order. Max asked Felicity if she wanted a Mimosa.

“I think I’d like to leave the champagne out of the brunch today. I’ll have some Earl Grey Tea.”

“Sounds good. Never know what tonight will bring.” He took her hand and kissed it.

Chills ran up and down her spine at the sound of Max’s deep timber and the touch of his lips against her hand. She didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world.

Sam returned with drinks and having had time to glance at the menu Felicity asked Max to order for them.

Max leaned forward, “It’s nice to dine with you, the morning after.”

She could only imagine what a
real
morning after would be like with him
. Sexy dog.

“. . . I’d like to spend every weekend with you if I could, but duty will invariably call me away in the movie business. I can’t complain, though, I love it.”

“Where will you go next?” Felicity asked.

“I’ve got that gig in New York, and then I’m here for the rest of the year. To England at the first of the year, though.”

“I wonder how it will be to do a feature after all the spy and action stuff.”

Max shook his head and he placed his coffee cup down. “I’m doing it as a favor for Charlotte. She’s asked me to help promote her business. It’s for some kind of tourist channel show and several individually-owned upscale restaurants will be featured.”

Hmmm. Yet, another female friend who needed help. “I sure hope we can get her on
Executive Women.”

Max studied her, his dark eyes penetrating. She couldn’t tell what he had on his mind but it felt like his thoughts were in her favor. “I think Charlotte will be a good fit for your show . . .”

It was the first time he referred to Executive Women as HER show.
Felicity liked how it sounded.

“. . . as I promised I’ll scope it out for you.” He winked.

And his wink was all it took. A little wink from his devilishly handsome face. She wanted to climb onto his lap. But, she had to remind herself to go easy.

Felicity had a sneaking suspicion if she didn’t get him in bed soon someone else might. She knew it was an insecure thought. Then, probably no woman could get Maxwell Marx, including her.

But why?

Sam delivered their steaming hot meals. The scent of the omelets and fresh baked multi-grained wheat bread ignited her taste buds. She realized she’d been hungry especially since she passed on the pancakes she made for Jenny earlier.

They busied themselves with the meal. Felicity got up her nerve to broach the subject of his travel. “So, how long will you be gone on your new gig in England?”

“I don’t believe the location shot will be more than a couple of months.”

A couple of months?

He continued,

I’m not sure. I don’t have anything else lined up. But then, you never know with Saul.”

“Saul?”

“My ever-surprising agent. He always has a couple projects up his sleeve.”

Right. She’d forgotten about Saul Griffin, Hollywood’s high-demand booking agent for the stars. “Guess he keeps you on your toes.”

The conversation for the remainder of the meal was mundane but pleasant. He appeared guarded like a poker player hiding his cards. It was as though he’d been unsure of his next move.

He lived in another world. Way out of her league. But she couldn’t imagine
not
pursuing a connection with him.

Considering the years she idolized him from afar, she had previously felt like a would-be stalker. Now, the attraction appeared to be mutual. Otherwise, he wouldn’t go to the lengths he had to date her. Didn’t Katie Holms dream of marrying Tom Cruise before she became a star? Of course, the marriage ended in divorce. And
that’s Hollywood
.

Felicity sure didn’t want to fit into another Tinsel town statistic. She craved a normal life with a normal, regular guy.
Regular
was one adjective that did not fit Max, at all. What did she set herself up for?

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