To the Max (15 page)

“Can’t believe that Luigi thought you were trying to scam him,” Holly muttered.

Annie opened her mouth but closed it again. She hadn’t said a word to anyone about Luigi appearing in her office.

She’d considered telling the girls about the new development several times during the evening, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“He can kiss our collective asses,” Holly stated and Tate and Christy nodded in agreement.

There was a long silence.

“That trampoline is cool,” Christy said, downing another shot. “Have you tried it yet?”

“Nope.” It was a very large one, but it didn’t have a safety net around it.

Christy got up shakily. “Come on. Let’s give it a go.”

“You nuts?” Annie was not barfing anymore, but jumping on a trampoline in the night without safety net, half-stoned from bacon-chocolate overdose? She’d seen the result on
America’s Funniest Home Videos
, thank you very much. “That’s a death trap.”

But Holly and Tate were already on board, walking barefoot to the death trap.

“This is a bad idea,” she said as Christy pulled her from the sun lounger.

“Come on,” her friend insisted, dragging her along. “Besides, if you fall face forward, you have those brand-new hydraulic bumpers to cushion the blow. No biggie.”

Annie must have had one bacon strip too many, because Christy’s words made sense.

* * * *

Cole was about to take a shot when his cell beeped. He read the message and then left the cue on the table. “I think we need to go,” he said to James over the music at the Red Chicken.

James frowned. “What happened?”

“I got a totally gibberish message from Christy. She’s now using the voice-to-text option on her cell.” Cole looked at his watch. “They’ve been at Max’s for over two hours.”

“Are you sure it’s not written in Klingon?” James asked, trying but failing miserably not to grin.

“Nope. Got a couple of those. This doesn’t read like Klingon to me. This reads like ‘tequila is kicking my ass.’”

Max stared at his older brother, dumbfounded. “You know what Klingon reads like?”

“Yes. She sends these messages when she’s pissed at me. Fucking hostile language.”

James and Max looked at each other, but Cole ignored them. “You don’t want to stay?” he asked Max. “James and I can handle this.”

“Nah. I’d rather go home.”

Now it was his brothers narrowing their eyes at him. “Why?”

Truth be told, not a single woman had been able to hold his attention, never mind the cleavage, the short skirts, or how strongly they came on to him. He’d rather stay with Annie, watching a movie or talking. Or swearing over her humongous puzzle, which was indecipherable to him, as she was still building the borders and sorting the rest of the pieces by colors. But he wasn’t ready to voice his reasons or answer the questions his brothers would raise, mainly because he didn’t have answers himself.

“You kidding? Your fiancée is sending you messages that may or may not be ‘fuck off, you controlling asshole’ in Klingon, not to mention that the last time she got her hands on tequila, she ended up swearing to the skies she was hiring a gigolo. Of course I’m going with you.”

When they arrived, there were four women laughing their heads off in the backyard. Three were lying on the trampoline; one, Holly, was crawling on the lawn.

“What’s going on?” James asked as Holly got up.

“Your wife,” she said, pointing at Tate, “is hammered on sugar. Yours”—she turned to Cole—”on tequila.”

Cole shook his head. “When will you guys learn nothing good comes from tequila?”

“Or bacon and Nutella, apparently,” James added, glancing at the table. Then he called, “Princess, you ready to go home?”

At the sound of his voice, Tate turned, a bright smile on her face. “We need to buy one of these,” she said, patting the trampoline. “We couldn’t make it work, but it was fantastic. Although we accidently sent Holly flying away.”

Thank God Holly had high tolerance for tequila and her reflexes were intact. Any other of the four would have split her head open.

Cole leaned on the trampoline beside Christy. “I sent you a message, gorgeous,” she said, “but I was laughing so hard I’m not sure the cell understood.”

“The cell did. I didn’t. You’re drunk.”

“Not my fault. I could only eat bacon. After a while I got very thirsty.”

Cole chuckled. “Do we need a metal detector?”

“No. Why? What are you doing?” she asked as he reached for her hand.

“Making sure you didn’t throw my engagement ring too.”

“Ha! This ring is coming off my finger over my dead body, and only if it’s pried off with a crowbar,” she said, throwing her arms around Cole’s neck and loudly kissing him. He laughed, hugging her tight.

Max smiled. He had never seen Cole as happy and relaxed as he was now, with Christy.

“With all the amenities inside the house and the hot tub out here, jumping in the trampoline is what you went for?” James asked.

“Actually, the hot tub didn’t even come to mind. We considered skinny-dipping in the lake, but it’s too cold for that already.”

James lifted Tate in his arms. “Come on. It’s time to call it a night. Holly, do you want us to drop you off?”

“As long as it’s not from the window while the car’s in motion. I left my Superman outfit home, and I’ve had enough flying for one night.”

Max looked at his brothers picking up their women and felt his chest tightening. He did want what they had; he just didn’t know how to go about getting it.

Annie was sitting on the edge of the trampoline. He sat by her side. “What did you do to my sisters-in-law?”

Her expression was suspiciously angelic. “Me? Nothing. I’m totally innocent. They were the ones dragging me to the trampoline. Holly wanted to paint Tango’s and Cash’s nails electric blue, but I didn’t let her. I swear.”

Max chuckled softly. “Good.”

“Oh, and the wall around the dartboard is a bit worse for wear. Our aim was off. I’ll repair the holes tomorrow.”

“Did you take off the backboard behind it?”

“Of course not, but our aim was too off to even hit the backboard. When we realized we were a hazard, we moved out here.”

“And decided jumping on the trampoline intoxicated wasn’t hazardous?”

“Kind of,” she said with a contrite shrug.

“This thing can be dangerous. Safety net is in the basement.”

“Don’t worry. We were either on all fours or on our asses. And believe me, climbing down to the basement would have been more dangerous.” Annie turned her gaze at him and smiled, and he felt his stomach somersaulting. Man, she was so fucking beautiful. Damn funny. Smart too.

“What’s the mumbo jumbo that you couldn’t get the trampoline to work properly?”

“Every time one of us took a small jump, this thing bounced weirdly and someone fell. When the four of us jumped together, Holly went flying.”

Shock absorption was a bit complicated. “It’s a question of coordination. Plus the more people jumping, the worse it is. Come on, let me show you,” he said, taking his shoes off and standing on the trampoline. She didn’t seem that convinced. “You’re safe with me. I won’t let you fall. And we won’t jump high.” No way was he risking it with her pregnant.

She reached for him, and he pulled her to her feet.

“The trick is to jump at the same time and to have a lower center of gravity by keeping your legs a bit separated. Grab me by my arms,” he ordered as he reached for hers. “Okay, here we go.”

They started small, but soon they gathered momentum. Annie was laughing, her hair flying all around her. He loved to watch her, but he knew what would make this better for her. “On the next jump, let me go.” As she did, he smoothly turned her around so that he was at her back. She panicked for a second, but he placed an arm gently around her waist, bringing her to him. “Don’t worry, Ace. I got it. Let yourself go.” She would have a great view of Alden’s lights sparkling on the dark lake.

They were not jumping that high, but she was a bit stiff. Soon, though, she relaxed and began laughing again, lifting her arms to the sky.

Yep, he’d rather be home with Annie.

When they slowed down, he pulled her backward so that she would fall on top of him. The bouncing stopped, and she turned her head to him, her smile blinding. “Boy, were the girls and I doing it wrong.”

Annie didn’t move and they lay there for a long while, looking at the sky, her on top of him, his hand on her stomach. Her sweet smell engulfing him.

“Luigi came by the office yesterday,” she whispered.

Max stilled. “What did he want? Did he bother you in any way?” Because if that was the case, he was going to find the bastard and beat the shit out of him.

Annie shook her head. “He apologized for his rudeness the last time we met. He said I caught him off guard. He isn’t thrilled about the baby but wants us to go out on a date to get to know each other without pressure or compromise.”

“And what did you say?” he asked, for some unfathomable reason dreading the answer.

She didn’t speak for the longest time. “What could I say? Everyone deserves a second chance. He’s entitled to a fuckup. And he is the father of the baby. I’m meeting him tomorrow for lunch.”

Luigi was the father of the baby, and he wasn’t offering any promises, but he wasn’t running away either. This was good news. The guy wasn’t a complete asshole after all. Max had no reason to feel upset about Annie seeing him, but fuck if he didn’t.

* * * *

Annie inhaled a deep breath and entered the restaurant. She was extremely nervous. It did help that they were having lunch and not dinner and that they were in a public place she had driven herself to. Still, she was a wreck.

Luigi was waiting for her and stood up while she was led to their table. He was dressed more casually, in a suit without a tie, but he had that put-together, expensive style. His curly, dark hair was fashionably blowsy, not even a lock out of place. She could only imagine Luigi’s face if she were to take a mallet out and start beating the hell out of the food. Max wouldn’t have flinched. Luigi with shell and crabmeat on his groomed hair? Or his manicured hands dripping garlic butter? No way, no how.

“You look lovely,” he complimented, tucking her chair in. “I’m glad you could make it.”

She smiled, trying to shake her uneasiness. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t already gotten it on three months ago.

“Me too. Nice place,” she said, glancing around the covered terrace. “Very good weather for autumn.”

“Yes.”

They sat there, the air so thick it could be cut with a knife. They didn’t have anything to chat about. Or maybe she was out of practice. After all, she’d been hanging out with Max a lot. Not a second of uncomfortable silence with him.

Thank God the waiter rescued them and Annie could hide behind the menu for a while. Then they made small talk until the food came.

They ate in silence, and when she couldn’t take it anymore, Annie cleared her throat. “You aren’t…working this weekend?”

“Let’s address the huge elephant in the room, shall we?”

She nodded, not really sure she wanted to hear what he had to say.

“I am a male escort, but I’m not a whore. I have two master’s degrees, speak four languages fluently, and get paid to accompany women to social events. That’s it. For the agreed-upon amount of time, I work for them, making sure they don’t have to fear their dates will make asses of themselves. Or embarrass them by a lack of culture or etiquette. Or commit a faux pas with some big shot from the company they expect to partner with. Or get drunk and come on to someone’s trophy wife. As you and half the world does, I put my brain and my abilities at the service of my employer. When the time’s up, we part ways. Have I had sex with my clients? Yes, I have, on a couple of occasions, but I was never hired nor paid for it. It was consensual and free.”

“Like an office romance?”

He smiled. “You can call it that. Have I ever taken presents from my employers? Hell yes, I have. Don’t office people receive raises and Christmas bonuses and presents from the company? Why would it be wrong for me to accept those perks?”

True. Her boss often got expensive NBA tickets. She got gift cards and spa treatments. Max had gotten a sex swing, for Christ’s sake.

“Has a client ever made a pass at me?” Luigi continued. “Yes, she has. It’s part of my job to mark the limits, discreetly and without offending anyone. The issue doesn’t come up often. If you want to get professionally laid, you can do it for much less than the four-figure number I charge per hour.”

Wow, and she thought her father’s wives were expensive.

“As for why I do this,” Luigi added. “It’s my business, and I don’t have to explain anything to anybody. I work to make a living. I’d rather get handsomely paid for my trouble than spend all my life in a low-income job or a high-income, no-free-time alternative. We only live once. Do I feel fulfilled in my line of work? Let’s just say it gives me enough money to do all the things I want to do, which is more than most get. Have I covered all the bases? Because if I haven’t and you need to ask something, please don’t hesitate. I’ll do my best to answer.”

Annie put down her fork. “Is your roast beef good? Mine is exceptional.”

Luigi looked at her with surprise. “Not the question I expected.”

“I have no others.” He was right. What he did for a living, as long as it was legal, was nobody’s business.

Talking about the elephant in the room helped unfreeze the atmosphere, and their lunch was pleasant. They talked politics, the economy. A bit about Annie’s job. They touched many subjects except for the one that had them there. The pregnancy.

In a way, she could understand him. She had decided to have the baby while he hadn’t had a say in it. To her, it was a voluntary choice; to him, something that was happening whether he liked it or not.

“You feel like taking a walk?” he asked after they finished.

“Sure.”

As he opened the door for her and helped her out, he brushed the side of her stomach. Luigi jerked his hand away as if she’d burned him.