The Marriage Mistake (5 page)

Carina decided to not rush away. With slow, determined strides, she closed the distance between them and handed him the wine. Max’s fingers brushed hers as he took the glass, and the sizzle of his warm skin almost made her cry. Almost.

Then she offered his companion the second glass.

He jerked back as if realizing the symbol of her gesture. Carina looked up at him and memorized his beloved face for the last time. She left him in the garden with the woman and didn’t look back. She surrendered more than the love of her life. She gave up her old dreams and left her old life behind.

She returned to college and became a different woman, bearing down and throwing her energy into her work. She graduated with honors and enrolled immediately in the SDA Bocconi School of Management, where she completed her MBA and delved into an intense internship. She may not have liked the business world very much, but she was determined to be good at it.

And she did like the power and control her new skills gave her. She wasn’t a weak little girl who looked to others for her happiness anymore, but a woman who took control and was ready for life’s challenges. A woman who stood on her own feet with savvy business skills and a clear mind. One who would never go after Max again.

She finished her sandwich, guzzled her water, and pushed her bag away. Working so closely with him was
bound to bring up some old memories. She needed to stay true to her vision and move ahead.

Carina threw away her lunch and got back to work.

•   •   •

Two weeks later, Max wondered if he needed to get laid.

He glanced at the clock and fought a groan. Almost one o’clock. His stomach roiled from too much coffee. Reports were overdue and an odd tension pulsed in his muscles. What was wrong with him? He’d been on deadline before and never experienced such . . . crankiness. All wound up and nowhere to go. When was the last time he had sex? And where was Carina?

She blasted through the door with a smile and a greasy bag in one hand as the odd combination of thoughts skittered through his mind. Her skirt was too short for the office and distracted some of the executives, but when he brought it up to Michael her brother didn’t seem to mind. Something about fashion and what was appropriate. Ridiculous. What happened to knee length? And didn’t she ever wear pantyhose? Somehow, not having that barrier only caused more stress, especially with the endless expanse of smooth, naked olive skin.

“Where were you? I need the updated supply report before I can get over to the new location for a walk-through.”

Her thick hair was pulled back in a severe knot, showing off the graceful curve of her neck and cheek. Sweat beaded her forehead as she dropped the bag on her desk and threw her briefcase down. “Sorry. Wayne called out sick, so I told him I’d cover.”

“Again?” He glanced at the calendar. “Damnit, it’s opening day at Yankee Stadium, Carina. He’s full of bullshit. Get him on the phone.”

Her plump lower lip twitched in amusement. “Oh, let him enjoy the game—don’t be so mean. I’ll have them in an hour. Here, maybe this will make you feel better.” She slid out a thick piece of bruschetta pizza, dripping with tomatoes and enough garlic to cause a stir of homesickness. His stomach roared on cue. When was the last time he’d eaten?

As if she heard his mental question, she answered. “You skipped breakfast again. Take a break and I’ll get the report together.”

“Did you eat?”

She waved her hand in the air and reached the door. “Not hungry.”

“Stop.” His command made her pause. He grabbed the plastic knife and sawed off a piece. “You don’t go anywhere until you share this with me.”

“Don’t need it.”

“Sit down or you’re fired.”

She laughed but obeyed. She dragged over her chair, snatched up the piece with a napkin and dove in. For a
few moments, they chewed and enjoyed their food, a common staple in their childhood memories. He relaxed and some of the tension eased from his shoulders. Funny, most women he dated viewed food as a necessity or an evil entity that incited weight gain. How many times had Mama Conte prepared a meal and only he and Carina were left at the table? Their passion for eating in companionable silence was something he’d missed. Michael and his other sisters dove in fast to get back to what they were doing. But when it came to good food, Max loved taking his time and savoring each bite. Carina held the same type of respect and honor for a meal, the way she enjoyed everything in life.

He snuck a peek. Damn skirt rode way up on her thighs. Her signature stiletto heels should be outlawed for the office and allowed only in a nightclub. They were way too sexy with all those straps. And why didn’t she wear normal perfume? He was used to heavy musk and contrived florals. Instead, she smelled clean and fresh, like cocoa butter and a hint of lemon. Max focused on his pizza. “How are you holding up? I know I’ve been giving you a lot of work lately.”

“I don’t mind.” Her tongue ran over her lower lip to catch the last bit of olive oil. He shifted his gaze. “I have a new respect for Michael and Julietta. Growing up, I thought it was just about baking desserts and having a case to sell them in.”

He laughed. “So did I. When Michael first hired me, I had no clue, but we learned together and built an empire. I enjoy having a stake in all the departments, though. Maybe I’m a control freak.”

She rolled her eyes. “Definitely. You drove us all crazy when we were kids. Ordered us around and sulked when we didn’t listen.”

“I never sulked.”

“Sure you did. And when that didn’t work, you turned those baby blues on any female in sight, and they crumbled. You still do.”

He stared at her in surprise with a bit of embarrassment. “That’s ridiculous. You make me sound like some type of gigolo who uses his looks to get what he wants.”

She took another bite and shrugged. “Well, not just your body. You use your charm, too.”

“Cut it out. You’re pissing me off.” He tried not to squirm in his seat with the idea she thought his looks got him places. “I didn’t help build an empire without some brains.”

“Of course you have brains. That’s where the lethal charm comes in—you know when to use it. If you only had brawn, it would be easier to shrug off.”

Why was he engaging in this ridiculous conversation? He tried to take the high road but his mouth opened. “I give women the respect they deserve. Always did.”

She swiped her mouth with the napkin and sat back with her arms crossed in front of her chest. The movement
pulled that conservative blouse tight against the heavy swell of her breasts. “What about that time Angelina got that new video game, and you convinced her to lend it to you for a whole month?”

Max sputtered with outrage. “She was being nice to me!”

“Yeah, right. Michael said she followed you around like a puppy in school the whole time. When you solved the game, you gave it back to her and barely spoke to her.”

He shoved the paper plate in the bag and crumpled it up. Irritation whipped through him at the memory. He never meant it like that. He was always nice to Angelina, he just didn’t want to date her.

“And how about that time you got Theresa to do your science report? Michael said you just had to sit with her at lunch and she wrote the whole thing for you.”

“Why did Michael tell all these lies about me?” he grumbled. “This stuff never happened.”

Carina lifted her chin in triumph. “How about this morning?”

“What about this morning?”

She smirked. “Weren’t you supposed to attend the party Saturday night at Walter’s house?”

He ignored her and cleaned his desk, but a sputter of unease flared in his gut. “Yeah. So?”

“You told Bonnie you were stressed and overworked
and needed someone to go in your place. She jumped right in and offered to represent La Dolce Maggie.”

“How does that make me the bad guy?” he grumbled.

She smiled. “Because then she asked if you would go with her to the opera, remember? She had an extra ticket. You patted her on the shoulder, told her you were busy, thanked her for going to the party in your place, and left her with a confused expression on her face. Face it, Max. When it comes to women, you are bad news.”

Shock kept him mute and dumb. With triumph, she rose from the chair and threw out her lunch. “I was busy,” he explained. “And I did not pat her on the shoulder. I don’t do things like that with women.”

Somehow, she seemed delighted with his objections. “Yes, you do. You humor them with the hope they may have a shot with you. Then you pull the rug out from under them. It’s a classic Max move I’ve been seeing for years.”

Enough was enough. He was not that sort of guy and it was time she realized that. “Carina, I don’t know what kind of man you think I am, but I don’t pull crap like that. No matter what your brother told you.”

“Michael didn’t have to tell me anything. I noticed this for years. You did it with me, too.”

“What?” His roar escaped before he was able to rein his emotions in. Outrage trembled in every muscle as he stared at her. “I never made an inappropriate move on you.”

A strange expression flickered across her face before clearing. “No, of course you didn’t. But you can’t help it, Max. You flirt, and charm, and make women feel like they’re the goddess of your mortal soul. We get wrapped up and then feel shocked when you move on to the next woman.” Carina shrugged. “I was young. I had a crush on you once. I got over it. No biggie. I’ll get your report and be back within the hour.”

She left him while his head reeled like a cartoon character who got whacked and little birdies floated above. Her matter-of-fact confession rocked his world. Of course, it was all untrue. He didn’t do things like that to women. Right?

The memory of the party tickled his conscience and whispered him a liar. He remembered, though he wanted to forget. Back from her third year at college, she exploded before him with a youthful energy and passion that stole his breath. He remembered the little black dress she wore in place of her usual baggy T-shirts that made his mouth dry up. Remembered her laugh, and adoring expression, and sassy conversation that always stirred his interest and made him relax. He told himself he was just being a little protective of her because she was like a sister, but his body didn’t react like she was family. He’d grown uncomfortably hard and imagined doing some very bad things. Alone. Without the little black dress.

His thoughts freaked him out. He realized he treated
Carina like a woman during dinner—a woman he was interested in. When the blonde in the garden approached him, he didn’t hesitate. She was the type who knew the score and engaged in full play.

The kiss had been full of intention, but flat. Max didn’t care until he heard the small gasp behind him. Carina’s eyes still haunted him. Dark depths filled with pain—betrayal.

He expected her to cry and run. He prepared for drama. Instead, she met him with her head held high and a look of good-bye on her face, handing over the glasses of wine with fingers that trembled. And she left. The grief surprised him, but he buried it quickly and went back to the blonde. He never looked back.

Until now.

His conscience pricked. Max wondered if she was right. Did he treat women like objects to conquer in order to get what he wanted? He liked to believe he indulged them. He loved to pamper and treasure and spoil. Sure, he refused to go too deep, but that was only so he could protect them from getting their hearts broken. He was honorable and exactly unlike his father. He remained emotionally distant, but every want was met, and he always remained faithful.

At least, until the breakup. Much better to cut off the relationship than lead them on. No, being honest may be a little rough, but Carina was dead wrong. Funny, that was the first time she admitted her feelings for him. The easy
rejection of her youthful mistake stung his ego, but it was for the best. She acted as if he were an annoying mosquito slapped away and forgotten within a few moments. Was he that easy to get over?

Why was he even thinking about this now? They’d always be friends. It was enough. It was perfect.

He pushed the disturbing thoughts away and worked through the next hour. A slight tap at the door broke his concentration. “Am I interrupting?”

Laura Wells poked her head in. The director of a well-known supplier, she and he had hit it off a few weeks ago and had a great conversation. One date led to a second, and Max sensed she was the perfect package. Gorgeous with long blond wavy hair, green eyes, a slim body with long legs, and height that nearly matched his, she was also smart and held a common business background. He relaxed and waved her in. “No, I need a break. It’s good to see you.”

She sauntered over with an easy grace. Her sage suit matched her eyes and flattered her lean length. “Wanted to see if you’ll save me from an event filled with boredom. I need to go to Walter’s party. Are you going?”

Max guiltily remembered how he’d pawned it off on Bonnie. “I didn’t intend to.”

She gave a pretty pout. “Oh, please come with me, Max. My schedule’s been insane lately and I need to combine some business with pleasure.”

The look in her eyes told him the outcome of the evening.

Score.

He needed this, a night off with a beautiful woman who knew the rules. Maybe the promise of more. At least the promise of a satisfying encounter. “It would be my honor to escort you. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Perfect.”

He stood to walk her out and almost slammed into Carina. Her ruby red lips made a small O and gave him dirty images of what other things she could do with that mouth. He jumped a step back and cursed under his breath. “You scared the hell out of me.”

She tilted her head. “Jumpy today, huh? Oh, hello. I’m Carina Conte.”

Laura smiled and they shook hands. A sense of pleasure washed over him. Finally, he’d show her he was serious about his companions and treated them perfectly. He made the introductions. “Laura will be my date for Walter’s party.”

Carina’s smile never dimmed. “How lovely. You really should come to dinner one night at my brother’s house. Guests of Max are always welcome.”