The Billionaire's Allure (The Silver Cross Club Book 5) (18 page)

“I guess I can understand that,” I said.

“Can you?” Beth gave me a sideways look. “I don’t think it’s any way to live, stuck in the past like that.”

I turned on the freeway, and we rode several miles in silence. Then Beth said, “Are you hungry? We can stop somewhere for lunch. You didn’t have anything to eat.”

“I can wait until we’re back,” I said. “It’s sweet of you to think of me, though.”

She drummed her fingers against the arm rest. “Max, why didn’t Renzo want to talk to you?”

And now the lying began. I drew in a deep breath. What was that line from Emily Dickinson? Tell the truth, but tell it slant. “I’m not really sure,” I said. Not a lie: he hadn’t told me in so many words why he had kicked me out of the house. I thought I knew, but I could have been wrong. “Did he say anything about it?”

“We didn’t talk about it,” she said. “I won’t pry, but I hope you’ll both get over it. I know how you men are.”

I grinned. Bullet dodged. “How we are? And what way is that, my sweet Beth?”

“You know,” she said. “Proud. Conceited. Totally full of yourselves—”

“Forget I asked,” I said. “I wonder if my fellow men know about our unfortunate reputation.”

“Probably,” she said. “That’s why God made women.”

We made good time back into the city. I dropped the car keys off at the rental counter, and we went up to our suite. Beth tossed her purse on the coffee table and sank onto the sofa with a sigh.

“What next?” she asked.

“We’ll leave tomorrow,” I said. “Assuming they can find me a plane.”

“So soon?” She frowned at me. “I thought…”

“There’s no reason to stay,” I said. “I didn’t get the impression that Renzo would welcome a second visit.”

“No,” she said. “I guess not.” She gave me a searching look. “Are you okay? I know you were hoping that he would be glad to see us.”

“He was glad to see you,” I said.

“But you wanted him to be glad to see
you
.” She stood and came to me, and put her arms around me. “I’m sorry. I wish it hadn’t turned out that way.”

“Now you can tell me ‘I told you so,’” I said.

“I wouldn’t do that,” she said. “That would be mean. Even though it’s true.” She pushed up onto her tiptoes and kissed my cheek. “I’m still sorry, even though I told you so.”

I closed my eyes and held her against me, her small, soft body a warm anchor, reminding me of my place in the world.

I was terrified of losing her.

There was nothing I could do. It was out of my hands now.

In the morning, we boarded a plane and flew back to New York.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Beth

You would think that nobody at the club had ever taken a vacation before.

“Where did you go?” Binh asked me. “Was it somewhere fancy? Did you go with that guy who kept showing up here? Did you go somewhere with a tropical island?”

“You go
to
a tropical island, you don’t go somewhere
with
a tropical island,” Tubs said. “Jeez, Binh.”

“Don’t correct me,” Binh snapped at her, and then turned back to me, eyes wide. “Did you fly on a private plane? Did you take a yacht? That guy looked like the sort of person who owns a yacht.”

“He doesn’t own a yacht,” I said, even though he very well could, for all I knew. “We didn’t take a yacht.”

“That means they took a private plane,” Monica said. “What was it like? Was it like in the movies?”

“You’re all making me lose count,” I said, giving up and setting my tips down on the bar. “Work is over. Go home.”

“But we want to hear all about it,” Tubs said. “You
never
go on vacation. You’re like Germaine. I don’t even remember the last time you took two days off in a row.”

“You’ve only been working here for six months,” I said. “That’s not enough of a sample.”

“Yeah, but Amy said, and she’s been working here for a long time,” Tubs said. “Isn’t that right, Amy?”

Amy, on her way out the door with her purse slung over her shoulder, said, “Whatever you say, kid,” and kept moving.

“See!” Tubs said triumphantly.

“Tubs, she didn’t even know what you were talking about,” Padma said, rolling her eyes. “You can’t act like she just agreed with you for real.”

“
Anyway
,” Binh said, raising her voice to be heard over the other waitresses, “as I was saying! All of you need to shut up, I’m still trying to talk to Beth about her vacation.”

I sighed. The only way out was through. “I went to San Francisco.”

“Oooooh,” the waitresses chorused in unison.

“It was fine,” I said. “I flew on an airplane. It’s a big metal thing that goes through the sky, like a bird.”

“Now you’re just being sarcastic,” Tubs said, like I was hurting her feelings.

“You’re right,” I said. “I am. I’d like to finish counting my tips in peace and go home to my warm bed. Is that too much to ask?”

“We just wanted to hear about your trip,” Binh said, shoulders slumping.

I sighed again. Now their feelings were hurt. Fine. “It was very nice. You were right, I
did
go with that man who kept coming here. His name is Max. We went to look for an old friend.”

They all had identical expressions, like kids who had just been told that Christmas was coming early that year. Even annoyed as I was by their prying, I had to admit it was pretty comical.

Padma asked, “Did you find her?”

“Him,” I said. “We did. It was very nice to see him again.”

“What else?” Binh asked. “Did you go to that—what’s that place, the island—”

“Alcatraz,” I said. “No, we didn’t have time.”

“Did you go see those houses from that show?” Tubs asked. “With those girls who are twins.”

“Are you talking about
Full House
?” Monica asked, her voice dripping with scorn and disbelief.

Tubs, oblivious, beamed. “That’s the one!”

I’d had enough. I gathered my pile of tips and stuffed the bills in my purse. I would count later, at home. Time to go.

I had been back in New York for a couple of days and hadn’t heard a peep out of Max the entire time. He’d been withdrawn on our flight back, staring out the window most of the time and and making only a few paltry attempts at conversation, and although he’d given me a long, heated kiss when we parted on the tarmac, his heart hadn’t seemed to be in it. It was enough to make a girl think she’d done something wrong.

I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, though. It was probably residual sorrow about Renzo. I didn’t know for sure what had passed between them, but I had a good imagination, and neither of them was particularly subtle. The looks on their faces when they came back from their mysterious consultation had told me everything I needed to know.

I understood grief. I’d had my fair share of it. I was more than willing to give Max some time to process his emotions in private.

Partly because, as a side benefit, it gave
me
some time to process.

Having sex with Max again had been… intense. I was a little unsettled by my body’s powerful response to his touch. We had always had good chemistry, even as clueless teenagers, but I certainly hadn’t expected the fireworks. I smiled to myself, slumped there in my seat on the subway. If Binh were telling me this story, she would have said
literal
fireworks, and I would nod and imagine colorful eruptions of sparks rising from the bedspread.

The woman across the aisle from me gave me A Look. She was no doubt worried that smiling to myself would soon be followed by talking to myself, and then maybe by singing or yelling or, worst of all, panhandling. I settled my face back into a carefully neutral expression.

I was sure I would hear from Max soon.

And if not—well, I could always be a modern, independent woman and contact
him
. But part of me wanted him to make the effort.

The next day I got up and wrote for an hour before I did anything else. I still wasn’t making any worthwhile progress on my book, but it didn’t bother me as much now. Love was a pain in the butt, but at least it provided a good distraction.

After my hour was up, I went into the kitchen to make coffee and check my phone.

Max had texted me.

Sorry for radio silence
, I read.
Can I see you today? Lunch and a surprise
.
Sorry also for short notice
.

He had sent the text message earlier that morning, when I was still asleep. It was after noon now. I replied,
Sorry, just saw this. Probably too late for lunch but we can hang out. I have to be at work at 4 though.

My phone vibrated with a reply a few seconds later.
It’s never too late for lunch. Come over to my place. We can have hot dogs and take a walk.

I smiled.
And why should I go all the way to Brooklyn?

I washed some dishes while I waited for him to respond. When I checked my phone again, he had written:
I’ll make it worth your while.

There was an erotic promise in that sentence that gave me a warm, melting feeling in the pit of my belly. It had been too long since I’d had Max’s hands on me. Days.

I intended to finish the afternoon in his bed.

I took the subway to High Street and walked the few blocks to Max’s place along the waterfront. It was a gorgeous, sunny day. The daffodils were in full bloom, and the tulips were just beginning to open. People were out walking their dogs, and I watched two very happy labs romping with each other in the park, tongues dangling from their mouths. Their owner threw a stick, and they both raced off.

Max was waiting for me outside his building, dressed in faded jeans and a well-worn T-shirt that clung to his chest and biceps. I felt incredibly smug as I walked toward him: this good-looking man was
all mine
.

He greeted me with a kiss and his hand at my waist: a very polite kiss, appropriate for public, but the way his hand slid down to cup my ass wasn’t polite at all.

Fine with me. I didn’t want polite.

He released me and took a step back. “Beth, I’m really sorry that I didn’t get in touch with you sooner.”

I shrugged. “It’s only been a few days. I figured you were busy with work, or kind of licking your wounds after what happened with Renzo.”

“A vivid mental image,” he said. “It was a little of both, I suppose.” He sighed and took my hand, and turned and started walking toward the bridge. I walked beside him, enjoying the feeling of his hand twined with mine, warm and strong. “Anyway, I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I said. “I’m not going to freak out because you didn’t text me for three days. What sort of women have you been dating?”

He grinned. “Perfectly reasonable ones. But I had one bad experience in college that I think has scarred me for life. Okay, I’ll stop apologizing. Are you hungry? There are a bunch of food trucks a few blocks this way, and I was thinking we could get some gourmet hot dogs.”

“You know I’m on board with that,” I said, and he squeezed my hand.

We got our hot dogs and ate sitting on a bench facing the water. I couldn’t even identify all of the toppings on my hot dog, but it was delicious nonetheless. I told Max about the waitresses interrogating me at work, and he grinned and said, “I experienced something similar.”

“At your work?” I asked. “Or, your ‘personal projects,’ I guess. Your dabbling.”

He nodded. “Actually, that’s why I asked you to come out here today. I didn’t mean to be mysterious. It’s just that what I’m doing is… Well, it’s pretty important to me, and I don’t always feel comfortable talking about it. But I’d like for you to see what I’m up to.”

My curiosity piqued, I hastily stuffed the rest of my hot dog into my mouth and wiped my hands on my napkin. “Let’s go now.”

“I’m still eating,” he said, smiling at me.

“You can eat and walk,” I said. I stood up and tried to tug him to his feet, and he let me, rolling his eyes and laughing. “Is it far?”

“It’s not far,” he said. “Only a few blocks away.”

“That’s right, you said you can walk there from your apartment,” I said. We set off, Max still chewing thoughtfully on his hot dog. “Are you going to tell me what it is?” Even a few blocks was far too long to wait to satisfy my burning curiosity. I didn’t like surprises very much, even good surprises, and the way Max was acting about this, coy as a virgin on prom night, I knew I would be surprised. I wanted some hint so I could prepare myself.

But he wouldn’t say anything, just gave me that Mona Lisa smile and tossed his napkin in a trashcan as we passed by.

As we walked, Max pointed out local landmarks: the place where he got his hair cut, the bodega with the best sandwiches, a weird antique shop where he had bought the lamp in his living room. We moved away from the waterfront and into an industrial area, where the streets were lined with warehouses. After about ten minutes of walking, Max stopped in front of a large brick building with a number of teenagers loitering out front, a mixture of boys and girls of all skin colors. Some of them were talking to each other, some were poking at their phones, and one was sitting on the front steps with a battered copy of what looked to be
Das Kapital
.