Without a Net (16 page)

Eva spent the next week packing. They were moving over the July 4
th
weekend, and there a million details to take care of. In an unexpected goodwill gesture, Roger’s old business partner got together some of the old construction crew to help. They crated up and transported the furniture and larger items she was keeping over to her parents’ place for storage.

Logan and Angie lent a hand with the garage sale on Sunday.
The Salvation Army truck picked up many of the remaining items Monday. Ben regarded the entire process as a grand adventure. He loved coming home from camp and running through the mostly empty rooms, bouncing a ball off the now denuded walls, eating pizza off paper plates, and bunking down for the night in a sleeping bag.

Organizing and overseeing everything kept Eva from brooding over the situation with Max.
But at night, tossing and turning in her own sleeping bag in the master bedroom, she couldn’t help but reflect on their parting argument.

Who could have predicted that Max, the ultimate hit and run artist, would go off-script and ask for more?
Sure, it was flattering. And tempting as hell.

After all, he was gorgeous.
He could set her pulse racing with a simple look or touch. And he was fun to be around. She couldn’t remember smiling as much or laughing as hard as she had on the day they’d spent at Griffith Park. Max made her feel carefree, unencumbered. In his presence, she didn’t worry about paying the bills, or where she and Ben would be living a year from now, or how she was going to keep her son safe in a world teeming with predators and bullies, drugs and violence, indiscriminate sex and ever-deadlier diseases.

But at the end of the day, when Max was gone, all of the realities of daily life came crashing back.
She was thirty-four years old, the veteran of a faithless marriage, with a fledgling business to build and an impressionable son to nurture.

And while Max good with her son, treating Ben with the same casual camaraderie he employed with his own nephew, there was more to life than the occasional trip to the park.
Just as there was more to a relationship than good times and great sex.

Once the novelty of their affair wore off, Eva doubted he’d stick around.
Max might claim he wanted more, but was he ready for the monotony that
more
entailed? She couldn’t picture him taking out the garbage every week, or changing yet another burnt out light bulb, or sitting through the umpteenth AYSO soccer practice of the season.

Max was more like the characters he wrote about: thrill-seeking, embracing the pleasures and dangers of life in the fast lane.
No way would he settle for a sedate existence when there was still one more mountain to climb or one more conquest to make.

As a pragmatist, Eva understood this, even if Max remained in denial.
The status quo was simply not sustainable. Much as she loved having Max in her life, the time had come to cut him free. The longer she delayed, the greater the collateral damage was likely to be, for everyone involved.

She knew what she had to do.
And she would. As soon as this move was completed. As soon as she and Ben were settled into their new home. As soon as…

She fell asleep before she could come up with any more excuses to put it off.

###

Desperate times and all that, Max told himself.
Why else would he find himself in Nina’s kitchen, asking for advice, after she’d already warned him against taking advantage of her friend?

It had been ten days since his argument with Eva.
On the surface, everything was fine. Eva texted, inquiring about his schedule, then emailed with details of an interview she arranged for him at a leading women’s magazine. He forwarded a few more blog posts at her request. They discussed possible dates for another reading.

But if the conversation turned personal, she found a reason to get off the phone.
And whenever he suggested they get together, she had a ready excuse.
Sorry, new client meeting. Can’t – still packing. Talk later—taking Ben to camp.
Or to piano. Or swimming. Or for a playdate. The kid enjoyed a busier social life than Max ever had, even at the height of his footloose and fancy-free days. Which were definitely over.

Not that it seemed to make any difference to Eva.
She had apparently made up her mind to pull back and wasn’t about to be swayed.

Nina eyed him suspiciously.
“What did you do?”

“Nothing.
Why would you assume I did something?”

“I told you not to mess with her.”

“For God’s sake, Nina, all I wanted was to spend more time with her. I didn’t expect her to turn tail and run.”

“You sure you didn’t do something to scare her off?”

“Yes,” Max bit out, shifting to take the weight off his aching leg. He’d increased his hours, working the seven p.m. to seven a.m. shift last night, and was still recovering.

“Here.”
Nina handed him a bag of frozen peas. “For your knee.”

“Thanks.”
He waited a beat. “So, any ideas?”

“Maybe you should move on.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. I don’t
want
to move on.”

“Why not?”

Max glared at her.
What was this, the Inquisition?

Nina leaned forward.
“You want my help, you’ll answer the question.”

The silence stretched.
He mumbled beneath his breath.

“What was that?” Nina said.
“I didn’t hear you.”

“I love her.”

Nina grinned.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Max gritted his teeth.
She might be thirty-two, and mother to an eight-year-old, but she was still a pain in the ass.

“So,” she continued.
“Does this mean you’re ready to settle down? Stop taking stupid risks?”

Whoa.
“I don’t take stupid risks.”

“What do you call skiing off-piste?”

He must have been drugged up when he told her that. Those first few hours after surgery were a total blur. Damn morphine. “Strictly groomed trails from now on, I promise.”

“No more black diamonds?”

“You can’t expect me to go from a sprint to a crawl.”

“Fair enough,” she conceded.
“So, what did Eva say when you told her you love her?”

“I didn’t exactly tell her.”
At Nina’s incredulous expression, he muttered, “She wasn’t exactly in a receptive mood the last time I saw her. And she’s been pretty much avoiding me ever since.”

“Max, sweetie, I know you’re my brother, and I love you.
But you’re an idiot.”

He shifted the frozen peas.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

She smiled.
“You know what you have to do.”

Could it really be that simple?
He opened his mouth, then closed it without saying anything. Maybe his sister was right. She was a woman, and Eva’s best friend. Surely that gave her some insight?

He needed to think about it, plan his approach.
Maybe get some sleep first. This wasn’t something he wanted to go into with a fuzzy head. He ran a hand over his unshaven jaw and glanced down at the scrubs he still wore. He needed to shower, too. Clean up a bit.

It wasn’t every day that a man offered his heart to the woman of his dreams.

Angie brought Chinese takeout and good news.
“Tom settled!”

“Really?”
Eva had been so preoccupied with the changes in her personal life that it took her a moment to switch gears. “Wow.”

“I know.
Amazing, isn’t it?” She dropped her bags on a nearby cardboard box and greeted Ben with an enthusiastic hug. “How are you doing, kiddo?”

“I’m camping out, Aunt Angie!”
He tugged on her hand. “Come see. Mom set up a tent in my room!”

“Really?”
She raised her brows at Eva, who shrugged.

“With all the furniture gone, there was space.”
She smiled at her son. “Might as well make it an adventure, right?”

“I brought the papers,” Angie threw over her shoulder, as she followed Ben upstairs.
“We can go over them later.”

Later
had to wait until they ate, and Ben finished his bedtime ritual of bath, tooth-brushing, putting on jammies, and settling into his sleeping bag with a flashlight and his favorite Harry Potter.

Eva leafed through the documents while Angie talked her through the highlights.

“First off, they agreed to a valuation of the company as is.”

“You mean now?” Eva said.
“Without waiting for the Blackwell issue to get resolved?”

“That’s right.”

“But…how? I thought that was the reason for the holdup.”

“No,” Angie corrected.
“The reason for the holdup was that Zach insisted on being a total ass.”

Eva blinked at the heat in her sister’s voice.
This wasn’t the first time Angie expressed such antipathy toward the younger Stewart. She seemed to blame him every time there was a problem with the negotiations. Strange, considering how affable the man seemed whenever Eva had met him in the past. Then again, Eva wasn’t necessarily the best judge of character when it came to men.

Shrugging off Angie’s odd response, she said, “Okay, no waiting for the appraisal. That’s good.
What else?”

“You get the current market value of Roger’s shares, paid out over five years.
Zach wanted to make payment contingent on the company meeting certain milestones, which is completely ridiculous. I managed to strike every one of his stupid stipulations.”

Eva nodded.
“What about the personal money Roger invested in the current project?”

“You mean what he withdrew from Blackwell?
The money you’re paying back now?”

“Yes.”

Angie grimaced. “Unfortunately, that’s still tied up. They’ll be able to liquidate it once most of the residential units are sold and the retail space is leased. So you’ll get it back, don’t worry. Along with whatever return on investment it generates over the next five years. But you’ll have to wait until the final disbursement at the five year mark.”

“I can live with that.”

“Good.”
She pursed her lips. “Now the not so good part. Tom’s lawyers filed a claim with the Blackwell trustee to recover the company’s investment losses. They’re still waiting for a determination. But once that comes in, whatever money they get back will go straight to the company. In other words, by signing this agreement, you’re releasing all claims to that money.”

“How much are we talking about?”

“I don’t know exactly. It depends on how much the trustee recovers and then agrees to repay. It might be thirty cents on the dollar, it might be fifty, or it might be the entire amount of the original investment.”

“Which was…?”

“About a million.” Angie frowned. “Regardless, Zach insisted that since his father is the one paying the legal fees and taking the risk at this point, he should be the one to receive the compensation. And on that score, he wasn’t budging.”

“He’s got a point,” Eva said.
“Especially given that Roger was responsible for investing those company funds into Blackwell in the first place.”

“Yes, but why should
you
be the one paying for it?”

Eva sighed.
Half a year ago, she might have agreed. But in the last few months, much of the anger and bitterness and guilt she felt over Roger had slowly dissipated. Flawed or not, he was the man she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. The man who’d given her Ben. For that alone, she would be forever grateful. And in the end, who was to say how much of Roger’s lack of judgment was his own failing, as opposed to the effect of the cancer that had eaten away at his brain? Either way, he was gone. The fallout from his mistakes was being rectified bit by bit.

It was time to let go of the past and focus on the future.

She opened her mouth to tell Angie that, but before she could say a word, the doorbell rang.

Angie raised a brow.
“Are you expecting someone?”

“No.”
Eva set aside the papers she was still holding and got up to answer the door. A peek through the side window had her hesitating.
Max.
What was he doing here?

The bell sounded again.

She glanced back, only to find that Angie had followed her and was gesturing toward the door, as if to say,
What are you waiting for?

Great.
This was all she needed.

She took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

“Eva, we need to talk.” He stepped inside, either oblivious to or deliberately ignoring her rigid body language.
“But first—”

She took a hasty step back before he could kiss her.
“Max, this isn’t a good time.”

“It never is. That’s why I’m here.
I have a few things to tell you, and—” he broke off, apparently noticing that Eva wasn’t alone. “Oh. Hello.”

Angie nodded and moved closer.
“Hi. Max, is it? I’m Angela MacDowell. Eva’s sister.”

They shook hands.
“Maxwell Palmer. A pleasure.”

“I was just about to head out,” Angie said.
She shot a questioning glance at Eva. “Unless you need me…?”

“We were in the middle of discussing the papers.”

“Actually, we touched on all the main points. You can look through the rest yourself, let me know if you have any questions. They’re not expecting an answer till next week.”

“Oh.”
Eva met Max’s eyes. There was something about his expression, the intensity of his gaze, the ticking muscle in his jaw, that made her nervous.

“Will you be okay here?” Angie said.

Eva blinked. “Yes. Of course.”

The moment the door shut, Max was on her.
Like a man who’d been deprived of food for weeks, he devoured her, barely pausing for breath. Her skin burned everywhere he touched. Pulse hammering, lungs screaming for oxygen, she broke away. “Wait.”

His fingers tightened.
“Eva—”

“Please.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “I missed you.”

She swallowed and forced herself to ignore the plaintive note in his voice.
“Ben is upstairs.”

“We’ll be quiet.”

The idea of making love with Max while her son slept upstairs shocked her. But what alarmed her even more was how tempted she was to pull Max into her bedroom, where they could lock the door and get naked without fear of discovery. As long as Max left before morning.

She was just contemplating the possibilities when Ben’s voice interrupted.

“Mom?” She could hear him coming down the stairs.

Oh, God.
She pulled out of Max’s arms and tucked her hair behind her ears with shaking fingers.

Ben rounded the corner.
“I’m thirsty.”

Eva headed toward the kitchen.
“What happened to the bottle of water you had in your room?”

“I finished it.
Hi, Uncle Max. Did you bring pizza?”

“Sorry, bud, not today.
I’ll bring some next time, okay?”

Not if Eva had anything to say about it.
She shot Max a repressive look and poured her son a glass of water. “You just had dinner a short while ago, Ben. You can’t really be hungry again.”

“Yeah, but I always have room for pizza.”
He grinned. “Where’s Aunt Angie?”

“She had to leave.
Come on, Ben, back to bed.” She extended a hand to him. “I’ll tuck you in, and then it’s lights out.”

“Can I take this with me?”

“If you promise not to spill.”

“Bye, Uncle Max.”

“See you later, bud.”

Eva nodded toward the door.
“It locks automatically. You can see yourself out.”

###

Ben ducked into the tent and crawled inside his sleeping bag. Eva knelt beside him and brushed the hair back from his forehead. It seemed like just yesterday she’d tucked him into a Halo SleepSack and put him down in a crib. Where had the time gone?

“Connor and his dad are going camping,” he said.

“That’s nice.”

“When can we go camping?”

She flicked the material of the tent. “What do you call this?”

“This isn’t real camping, Mom.
I mean Sequoia National Park.”

“Is that where Connor’s going?”

“Yeah. This weekend.”

Eva sighed.
Wilderness camping was so not her thing. Dirt, creepy crawlies, and no hot running water? No thanks. “We can ask Uncle Logan, or Grandpa. I’m sure they’d be happy to take you.”

“Grandpa’s kind of old.”

He was sixty-six, and in excellent health, but Eva could see how that might seem ancient to an eight-year-old. “Uncle Logan, then.”

“I guess.”
He tucked a hand beneath his cheek. “What about Uncle Max?”

“You do know that Max isn’t really family, right?”

“He said he likes camping.”

“He did?”

“That day at Travel Town.”

She could imagine Max all too easily, fitted out in rugged camping gear.
Hacking his way through the Amazon jungle or leading an expedition up Kilimanjaro. Real wilderness treks, not the set-up-your-tent and roast-marshmallows-round-the-campfire stuff she was sure her son had in mind.

“I think he was talking about something different,” she told Ben. “Like going to uncivilized places where you have to carry everything you need on your back and fight off snakes and bears and other wild animals.”

“Really?” His eyes gleamed.

Oops
. She’d meant to warn Ben off, not pique his interest. “Forget it, kiddo. We’re not asking Max.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“But why?”

“Because has his own things to, and he doesn’t have time to take you camping.”

“He took Connor camping last year.”

If there was one thing about her son that sometimes irritated her, it was his persistence. No doubt it would serve him well in life, but at the moment it only increased her aggravation—with both Ben
and
Max. If Max hadn’t shown up tonight, she doubted Ben would have pursued the subject so tenaciously. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Connor is Max’s family,” she said.
“
We
are not.”

“But we could be, right?
If you guys got married.”

She felt like she’d been sucker-punched.
This was what came of not taking action. She’d waited too long, let things go too far. Her biggest fear—that Ben’s expectations would be raised, and then dashed—was coming true. She needed to break things off now, yesterday, before her son got any more brilliant ideas.

“I am not about to get married just so you can have someone to go camping with.”

“It’s not just for me, Mom. It’s for you too. You like Uncle Max, don’t you?”

Enough was enough.
“I appreciate the suggestion, kiddo. But it’s late now. Time to go to sleep.”

###

Max sensed her anger the moment she came downstairs and saw him. Yes, he’d ignored her suggestion to leave, so he could see why she might be annoyed. But this was something more, something dangerous and intense and just below the surface, like an improvised explosive device just a hair’s breadth from detonation. Whatever had happened between the time she’d gone upstairs with Ben and now, it wasn’t good.

“I thought you were leaving,” she said.

He straightened. “We still have things to discuss.”

“I don’t think so.”
She knelt beside a group of boxes that had apparently been used as a makeshift table. Several stacks of papers rested on top, along with the remnants of what looked like a take-out meal. She gathered the papers into a single pile, then started collecting the white cardboard containers, disposable plates, chopsticks, and crumpled napkins into a paper bag.