Shira (3 page)

Thinking to dust in his room since there was nowhere else to clean other than sweeping and mopping the floors, she found a rag and some furniture polish under the kitchen sink and headed back into his room. The bedroom set was deep mahogany, heavy wood, and appeared to be brand new. Maybe he’d sunk the last of his money into it. She hoped the landlord wasn’t charging him through the nose for rent. Or had he said he owned this place? She doubted it.

When she shifted items on the dresser to wipe it down, she found a picture in a frame turned toward the wall. Shira examined it out of curiosity. The blonde staring back at her in the frame was incredibly beautiful with blue eyes and big, natural-looking breasts. “So this is his type,” she mused.

Then it occurred to her that this woman could be the reason he looked so sad. The fact that he’d turned the picture away said volumes. He had a broken heart. She’d maybe left him for another man.
Of course she’s out of her mind, and must not have looked at Max. The man is gorgeous! Her loss.

In light of finding the photograph, Shira considered Max again. His meanness seemed more turned inward than to her, as if he wanted to punish himself for something. Maybe he’d driven the blonde away. Max was no doubt regretting it big time. She wondered what it was like to be loved that deeply, or for that matter to love someone else to that extent.

She ran her hand over the T-shirt he’d put on her. The shirt was gigantic and hung over one shoulder. All morning, she’d been pulling it up so she wouldn’t flash him with one of her small boobs.
Not like he’d be tempted when he liked them busty.
She had never minded her tiny size until she started seeing Sam. Then she was hearing all the time how pathetic her breasts were, how she should get a boob job so she wouldn’t be such an embarrassment to him. Sam had never offered to pay for it, and she couldn’t afford it on her own. She suspected he thought if she did get implants, people would assume he had pushed her to it. Everything had been about image to him. Sam had a terrible cruelness, and no matter how rude Max was, she didn’t believe he was like her ex.

Later that morning, the bell rang when Shira had just finished mopping one of the spare bedroom’s floors. She figured she could borrow some blankets and a pillow and sleep down there, because it was for sure she wasn’t sleeping in Max’s bed again. She dropped the mop and bucket off in the kitchen and headed toward the front of the house. Her stomach knotted, and she twisted her fingers. There was no way Sam would know she was here.

She peeked through one of the windows at the side of the door and spotted a man who looked like delivery personnel. Behind him was a huge truck with a picture of a living room set designed on the side.
How the heck did they find their way out here?

She opened the door. “Yes?”

“Miss…uh…” He checked his notes. “Miss Shira?”

She almost laughed because Max didn’t know her last name. For that matter, she didn’t know his either. “Yes.”

“We have a delivery for Max Macgregor—a bedroom set, dining room, and living room set.”

“Wow, really?” Her eyes widened. Had he gotten it all on credit? Maybe he wasn’t as poor as she had assumed. “Can I see your order form, please?”

The guy smiled. “Of course.”

After she’d confirmed everything, she let them in, and the man and his partner set up all the furniture. She directed them to the bedroom she’d chosen for her own and hoped Max wouldn’t mind. Hers was across the hall and down a little, the farthest from his. She also hoped he wouldn’t notice that fact.

After the deliverymen were gone, Shira straightened out her room, shoving furniture into positions she liked better. Max might change it all, but for now she arranged it her way. She didn’t know why she felt a slight excitement but put it down to this being one small part of her new life. Sam had stolen five years, and now she was free.

When she was done with her room, she puttered some more about the house. Max didn’t show up until late evening, and by then, she had dinner waiting for him.

He came in the side door tracking mud, and she opened her mouth to protest but clamped it shut. He glanced up at her and must have read her displeasure because he said, “What?”

“Nothing. The people delivered the furniture.” Her words came out in a rush, and she looped her fingers together. “I hope you don’t mind I chose the bedroom at the end of the hall, near the back of the house. If you want, you can move everything. After all it is your house, and I’m just an employee.”

“Stop.”

She fell silent. Her breaths came in heavy pants, and he walked toward her. She tried holding her ground and then took a step back. Max towered above her and grasped her arms. Electric currents pinged all over her body, and she could do nothing but gape at him.

“You’re upset.”

“I’m not,” she protested.

He frowned. “You talk fast when you’re upset.”

She pressed her lips together. He tugged her fingers apart.

“You also wring your hands.”

“I—”

He looked over her head and scanned the kitchen. Shira could have fallen over when he sniffed the air. “Was someone else here other than the delivery men?”

She broke from his touch and backed up. “Of course not! If you must know, I take exception to you tracking mud in my kitchen.”

His blond brow rose, and she chewed on her bottom lip, but then raised her chin. The man had no manners, and if she was going to work for him, he better get some.

“I scrubbed this house top to bottom, and the least you could do is take off your shoes!”

She must be crazy. He was going to fire her before she even got a dime. Max didn’t say a word for a long time. He just looked at her. Why oh why did she have to act like this? She never would have gone off that much with Sam. Not without getting her teeth knocked down her throat.

“I’m so—”

“Don’t you say it,” he growled. He pivoted on his heel and marched over to the door. Shira stood there in amazement while he stripped his shoes off, put them to the side, and then began mopping up his mess. When he was done, he picked up some bags he’d brought in, walked over to her, and shoved them into her arms. “What’s for dinner?”

Shira couldn’t help feeling like they were an old married couple, but as soon as she had that thought, she pushed it away. There was no sense getting attached to Max. She was going to move on as soon as possible. Besides, why would he want someone like her? “What’s this?”

“I’m hungry,” he said instead of answering her question.

She rolled her eyes and laughed a little. As she tucked the bags away in her room, she considered the fact that she hadn’t laughed in forever. Come to think of it, in the short time she’d known him, Max hadn’t smiled once. She wondered what she could do to give him that pleasure.

She left her room and found Max in the dining room, sitting at the head of the table. “I changed my mind.”

She put a hand on her hip. “I guess reading minds is included in my job description?”

A twitch at the corner of his mouth got her excited, but she tamped it down.

“Check the bags,” he told her. “I can wait until you change. Maybe the blue one?”

She frowned at him, and then it hit her. He’d bought her clothes. A tremor started somewhere deep in her belly. He was a good man. Shira wouldn’t let herself care. She couldn’t afford to. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

He made no response.

“I’ll hurry up.” She whirled to run back to her room. Searching through the bags, she found several sundresses, a couple pairs of shorts, and some capris. She found assorted tops in various colors and styles. All of the clothes were in her size. The man had a good eye. She couldn’t believe it. He’d gone all out, and it wasn’t necessary. Tears filled her eyes. Sam had never done anything like that. He’d once shoved money into her hand when they were planning to go to a party and said, “Don’t buy anything that would embarrass me.” Sometimes she had wondered how he could date a black woman if he was so hung up on how people viewed him, but she learned his sleeping with her was what he considered his one vice. He had a thing for black women that his sense of the perfect image couldn’t erase. She’d resented him for that view.

Shira stripped her clothes off and threw on the robe Max had included with the clothes. She ran for the bathroom and took a hasty shower. After she was done, she put on the blue dress he had indicated. Blue wasn’t her favorite color. Lilac was, but the dress was pretty, and she wanted to give back to Max in this small way for what he’d done.

As she left her room, she considered whether Max wasn’t similar to Sam. Max was still dominant. The fact that he’d found it necessary to tell her which dress he would like to see told her a lot. She wondered what he would say and how he would act if she’d put on the butter yellow dress. Too late now, she didn’t go back to change. The man must be starving since it was well after seven.

Tonight she had made lasagna with double the usual amount of meat she put in. She dished two plates up and prepared to warm the food a bit more in the microwave when the phone rang. Shira set the plates down and answered the extension hanging on the kitchen wall. “Hello?”

“Hello?” a man said. The timbre of his voice was deep and sexy, very similar to Max’s. In fact if she didn’t know he sat waiting in the dining room, she would have thought it was him on the phone.

“Is this Max’s brother?” she asked.

Instead of answering, she heard the man speaking to someone in the background. “Baby, there’s a woman at Max’s house.”

“What the hell?” a woman responded. “A woman? Who is it?”

Shira tapped her foot waiting for the exclamations and shock to settle. Apparently, Max didn’t entertain much.

“Give me the phone,” the woman said, and she came on the line. “Hello? Who is this?”

Shira had been thinking the woman sounded familiar. Now she realized who it was. “Whisper, is that you? This is Shira—from school. You probably don’t remember me.”

“Shira!” The excitement in Whisper’s tone warmed her. “Hey, girl. I can’t believe you’re at Max’s? How did you two meet, and how did you convince his grumpy ass to let you come over?”

Shira suppressed a laugh, but then she sobered and told her old schoolmate how she’d met Max. She left out the part about needing to escape from Sam. That wasn’t the kind of thing she wanted to share over the phone, and Max might be listening. For some reason, she didn’t want him to know how stupid she was to let a man hurt her for so long. She hadn’t intended it to go on, and she couldn’t explain how she had lost herself in the process. The one thing she knew was that when the fear set in, that was it. He’d had control.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry I’m not there to see you,” Whisper said. She sounded happy with her life, and Shira was jealous, but she was glad Whisper had found someone special and was living. “Can I ask you a favor, though?”

Shira raised her brows. What favor could she do for Whisper? She had nothing. “Um, if I can, sure.”

“I’m going to be out here in Maine with my boyfriend’s family. He’s Max’s brother by the way. We’ll be here for at least another month. Can you look after Max while I’m gone? He’s had a tough time, and I feel like if he let you in, you must be something special. You might be the one to make him realize his life isn’t over. Can you do that for me?”

Alarm rose in Shira. She hadn’t planned to stay, and looking out for Max wasn’t in the program. What could she offer a man like him? He had a broken heart. She couldn’t fix a thing, and she was most definitely not special. “I…”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t put that kind of pressure on you,” Whisper said. “Just please think about it, and if it progresses, great. If not, it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Progresses? Meant to be?” Looking out for him had nothing to do with being meant for him. Shira’s hands shook. She hated the hope that sprung up inside of her that a miracle would happen and she’d be able to stick around rather than leave. That was unrealistic. If she was going to learn to be strong again, she had to keep her head out of the clouds. She took in a deep breath and steeled herself. “I will try to cheer him up while I’m here. That’s all I can do.”

“Thanks, girl.”

Shira hesitated and then lowered her voice. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Is he okay to work for? I mean, he seems…I don’t know. I’ve had some bad experiences in the past with men, and I don’t want to trust my judge of character.”

Whisper was quiet for a moment. “He’s a great guy. You don’t have to worry about Max. He’ll take care of you. He might seem rough around the edges and like he has no ambition.” She laughed at this. “But he really is brilliant. He has a, um, let’s say a wild side, but deep down, he’s a pussy cat. He’ll never hurt you.”

“Is he suicidal?”

“Oh, nothing like that,” Whisper assured her. “Their kind has too much pride.”

Shira pondered what
their kind
meant, but didn’t ask. Whisper’s words encouraged her somewhat. “Okay, thanks. Well I should let you speak to him. Hold on.”

Shira called Max into the kitchen for the phone and went to heating their food. She didn’t mean to listen to the phone conversation, but she couldn’t help it.

“Any particular reason you didn’t call my cell?” he asked. Shira rolled her eyes. So his rudeness wasn’t reserved for strangers. “Oh, yeah, no one called me, so I guess I forgot to charge it.”

Shira smothered a laugh. She could imagine Whisper putting him in his place, but she’d also heard the affection in her friend’s voice. Whisper obviously loved him like a brother. She wondered how Max felt about Whisper. For some reason a little jealousy rose. Whisper had been plumper with bigger boobs and a good size butt in school. Guys had always been exclaiming over it. Whisper would be the kind of woman he went for.

Stop it, Shira! Damn it, it doesn’t matter what he goes for. You’re leaving. The best you can do is try to cheer him up like Whisper asked. That’s all. So suck it up!

She finished heating their lasagna and went to set the plates on the table. With it, she’d made garlic bread and a pitcher of sweet tea. When all was in readiness, she sat down at the table to wait for Max.