5. Kamaya
CHAPTER 5
Kamaya
The excursion out to Franco’s last known address was a complete waste of time, not to mention a potentially dangerous situation because we had no idea who that person tailing us could have been. Maybe the competition theory was correct, but would someone stoop that low just to see the Financial Journal fail?
After Maxwell and I returned to our office, we both got to work trying to track down Franco and any family members, but that turned out to be a time-waster as well. How had this recently fired employee completely disappeared off the face of the earth? I thought about the chart Max had drawn before we left and wondered if maybe he had a point: did Zach know more than he was willing to say? I didn’t want to believe he could be involved in anything nefarious. However, how well did I really know Zach, other than as a passing acquaintance?
Max’s attitude made me think that he already thought of Zach as guilty.
No, I wasn’t going to give into Maxwell’s cynicism just yet. Maxwell always said my best and worst quality was that I always saw the good in people unless I was forced not to. I was going to give everyone on the list of names from Maxwell’s chart the benefit of the doubt.
An hour after our return, Bree and Westin came back and tried to help us track down Franco. They were both experts in their respective fields and had been part of the security team since its inception. I always admired how they were able to work so well together while married.
It gave me hope that maybe one day, if anything were to develop with Zach, it wouldn’t be awkward since we only worked in the same building, not for the same employer. It’s not like it would be if I were to date Maxwell.
Speaking of Max, I could see over the partition that his eyebrows were knit. His face was illuminated by the blue light of his laptop. He’d been furiously typing and clicking, trying to help track down Franco.
He looked adorable with his—as I called it—concentration face.
Adorable? What is happening to me. Anyone could recognize that Maxwell was an attractive man with a fit physique and soulful dark-brown eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Other women certainly flocked to him when possible. Case in point—Ava’s cousin Sophie at the wedding.
“We’re going to head out,” Bree says, heading towards the doors, waiting for Westin to get his things. Bree’s voice snaps me out of my reeling thoughts.
I take Bree and Westin’s cue, tired of looking at all these monitors and needing a break from our fruitless searches. I respond back with, “I think we should take off too, Max.”
“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll get anything else accomplished today,” Max agrees and stands to gather his things.
After we said our goodbyes to Bree and Westin, Maxwell and I made our walk down to the 33 rd Street New Jersey PATH station.
Had two years already gone by so quickly that this had become our routine? Every day that Max worked in the office when he wasn’t on a protection assignment, we made our walks together back to the PATH station. This tradition started off as Max wanting me to have company as he called it—but he really meant his protection—when walking alone in the city on those dark winter evenings, but it had continued year-round. Like now in the summer months when it was still light out until much later.
I realized I missed Max those times when we couldn’t return home together. I hadn’t contemplated before now how comforting his presence was.
“The next train should arrive in six minutes,” he says, consulting his transportation app. We’re nearly smooshed in the evening crowd returning home. A woman talking loudly on a phone in a business suit jostles past me, knocking me into Maxwell’s side. I grip the sleeves of his suit jacket for balance.
“Sorry about that. That lady just pushed past me?—”
I stop mid-sentence because Maxwell is not paying attention to what I’m saying. He’s staring down at my mouth. The awareness of where he’s looking and our proximity warms my cheeks. If I were to just raise onto my tiptoes, we could be kissing. My body was already pressed into his muscular frame. Just a few more inches and our mouths would be connected. I’ve hugged Maxwell countless times, but this time his body pressed so intimately against mine feels different.
Or maybe I’m feeling different. I didn’t experience it as if I was bumped against my friend. Instead, our bodies felt intimately compressed together.
The awkwardness must have dawned on Maxwell at the same time because he stepped back away from me, or as much as the crowded platform would let him. Max braced his hands on my arms. “Are you alright, Kamaya?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m okay,” I say since I couldn’t express actually, I’m having weird thoughts about our bodies being pressed up against each other, and I don’t know what to do with these thoughts right now.
Thankfully, the train arrives two minutes earlier than Maxwell had advised, and we rush onto the waiting train car. The crowd of office dwellers and tourists separate us, and we’re unable to talk to each other properly for the duration of the ride back to our stop at Journal Square.
I was pleased for the reprieve of not having to try and concentrate while listening to Maxwell during the ride like I normally would. My thoughts about us had me questioning where my sanity went. This was Maxwell. Friend, coworker, and commitment-phobe, who expressed any chance he could get that he was not interested in pursuing relationships because they were all doomed to fail.
How many times had I watched some poor, unsuspecting woman think she could be the one to catch him only to be left disappointed when he inevitably broke it off because she didn’t believe him when he expressed not wanting anything long-term?
I needed to snap out of this line of thinking.
When the train finally reached our stop, I stepped off first, not wanting to be trampled when the doors opened. I stood off to the side waiting for Maxwell to join me.
“What are you planning to do now?” Maxwell asks when he reaches me again.
I had hoped to entertain for my sisters, but they were both busy – Daniella with her classes and Mona with late client meetings.
“I’ll just pick up something quick. Maybe take-out,” I say. Max was a gym rat and typically worked out in the evenings. He’d invited me to go with him many times, but I always felt self-conscious at my size. I didn’t want to work out at his intimidating gym after the one and only disastrous time I went and it felt like the invasion of Instagram models.
“We haven’t gone to the diner in a long time. What do you say? It’s my treat.”
Maxwell’s expression looks so earnest that I can’t turn him down. “Okay, even though I thought you hated that diner,” I say as we start walking towards the station exit. Normally, we’d take the opposite exit to the parking garage to access our parked cars. This time we exit the building and wait to cross the street to the neon-lit, old-school diner.
“It’s definitely not my favorite, but since you love it, that’s why I offered.”
I suddenly felt shy but did not want to dwell on the fluttery feeling in my stomach.
When we arrive at the diner, it’s scarcely populated and we’re seated in a booth facing the rainy roads.
We head straight to the last booth since this diner is never picky about seating. We always pick this table with the large windows to our right. I knew exactly what I wanted, but Max took a few moments to peruse the menu.
A soft ping sounds from my bag and when I extract my phone, I see a message from Zach.
“Oh! Zach finally texted me back,” I say, checking the notification on my phone.
Maxwell doesn’t respond to the mention of Zach, only takes a long sip of his drink.
“So what did he say?” Max eventually asks.
I review the message where I asked about Franco and why he wasn’t mentioned in the preliminary meeting. “He said he forgot about the employee and that FJ had issues with him about attendance issues, nothing to do with his actual job performance.”
Maxwell only grunts a response. He’s been terse anytime Zach is mentioned and now I need to get to the bottom of it. “Okay, what’s up with you?”
“What?” Max asks, pushing the menu to the side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I raise a brow at him. “C’mon Max, it’s me. I know something is up. Every time I mention Zach, you get closed off. Is there a reason you don’t like him?”
Max sighs before answering. “I don’t have anything against the man. He’s Brandon’s friend, and I only really know him in passing, however…”
I wave him to go on, though I can see his hesitation. “What are you not saying?”
Max starts to speak, but the server comes and interrupts us. We both give our orders—pancakes for me and French toast for Max. After the water picks up the old, laminated menus, we are left alone again.
“Forget it,” Max says. “I know how you feel about Zach, and I will refrain from saying anything unkind about the man. However, I still have him on my list of potential people we need to look into regarding our assignment.”
“Understood,” I say, though I’m not convinced. There is more that Maxwell isn’t telling me.
We finish and Maxwell takes care of the bill. It’s very annoying that he refuses to let me pay for anything whenever we are out together, but I’ve ceased trying to strong-arm him with my credit card in hand before he can place his down.
Before we cross back to the other side of the street towards the station’s parking garage, Max’s expression gives me pause.
“Why do I get the feeling that you don’t want to say goodbye?” I ask him.
Max shuffles his weight before responding. “I’m still weirded out by earlier today, and we don’t know who could be trailing us. I just don’t feel comfortable knowing you’ll be alone without anyone looking out for you.”
I’m touched by Maxwell’s remark. It was part of our job that we never knew what kind of danger we could potentially be facing. My role mostly kept me in the office and out of sight, but this assignment we were tasked with had been anything but typical, and I want to make a good impression. I didn’t want to be considered too weak and unable to handle myself.
“What are you proposing? Spend the night at my place?”
Maxwell shrugs, but I can tell that’s exactly what he’s too apprehensive to say. “Yeah, I just feel uncomfortable about you being by yourself.”
I thought about the handful of times I fell asleep at Max’s place or him at mine after a movie night or dinner, when one of us was too full or exhausted to move. Spending a night at a friend’s house wasn’t a big deal, but with Maxwell, lately it felt like a much bigger deal than it should have.
On the other hand, if he was correct about us potentially being followed, then there was always safety in numbers.
“Okay, you can come over,” I say.
Maxwell’s answering smile should not have warmed me, and I was blaming the seasonally hot night for my warmed cheeks.
We made our way back to the parking garage at the Journal Square station and once seated in our cars, Maxwell followed me back home. The building I lived in afforded me the ability to see our parked cars from my living room window.
Stepping out of my sedan, I walk a few paces down to where Maxwell is parked. As I approach him, I see Max moving to the trunk of his own car and removing what looks like a gym bag.
“That’s a big bag. You planning to move in?”
“Ha ha, very funny,” he replies.
After getting his stuff settled inside, we both relax on the love seat that’s much too small to allow room for us, forcing Maxwell’s long legs to graze mine. I loved my studio and it suited my needs for now, but Maxwell’s size and presence suddenly made the space seem entirely too intimate.
After going to pour us each a glass of sauvignon blanc, I rejoin him on the couch. I take a sip, needing to relax, but my mind can’t quiet about the assignment we’ve been tasked with.
“Okay, so I know we try not to bring work home…”
Max looks at me over the rim of his glass with a just spit it out look. “Go ahead and say what you want to. I know you’ll just obsess the rest of the night if you don’t.”
I need no other invitation before diving in. “Okay, I’ve been thinking about the connection between FJ and City University, and the connection seems to be random, right? A smaller-scale university, certainly the most affordable in the state, finds a way, presumably through a hacker, to bypass the paywall of one of the most respected news publications.”
Maxwell shrugs. “Makes sense to me. The Financial Journal , based on Mrs. Van Zandt’s reaction, thinks their publication is too good for a school like that and wouldn’t want to conduct business with them, even if the school had the money to work with them.”
I nod at Maxwell’s summation. “That’s a fair point,” I say, turning on the small sofa to face Maxwell. From this position, we’re closer. Close enough that I can see his long lashes fanned out, creating a shadow on his cheekbones.
“Kamaya?” Max prompts.
“Right, sorry. What was I saying…?”
He chuckles. “Sounded like you disagreed with me and then you just stopped.”
“I was saying that I looked into the school and noticed they don’t have much curriculum dealing with finances or the markets. They offer a couple of business classes, but it’s more like a junior college offering the core classes that students would take regardless of major.”
Maxwell takes another sip from his near-empty glass. “So, you’re thinking that there’s another motivation behind all this?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Possibly? I texted Daniella since she attends a few classes there, and she said someone offered her access to FJ . They said if she wanted to use it for an assignment, they could give her the hookup. She turned it down, not needing it, and had no idea it was fake until I told her.”
“Did Dani say anything else?” Maxwell says and then drains his glass.
“Dani only mentioned she knew one other person who’d been approached like her. Here,” I say, reaching for his empty glass. “Another?”
“Sure,” Maxwell says.
“I think we should make a visit to the campus tomorrow,” I call out from the kitchen.
“That’s a good idea,” Maxwell agrees. “That’s our only other lead with this assignment.”
“See. Talking about work isn’t all bad,” I quip, handing him his topped-off glass and rejoining him on the love seat.
“No, it’s not, but I still think the rule is important. Otherwise work stuff will consume you. Trust me.”
“Fine, no more work talk. I’m going to text Daniella and see what time her classes are and see if she can meet us.”
I quickly shoot off a text to Daniella and decide to google the college. Then I lean close to Maxwell to show him the campus map. “The campus is relatively small as you can see. There shouldn’t be too much ground to cover,” I say and look over to realize he’s no longer looking at the phone in my hand. Once again, I’ve caught Maxwell staring at my mouth. “Max?”
“Your mouth is distracting,” Maxwell rushes out.
Maybe it’s too much wine or delirium, but Maxwell’s words heat more than just my cheeks. My whole body alights, and I find my gaze returning his, suddenly desperate to lean closer.
We both lean in slowly at the same time, and the sensation of his pillow-soft lips on mine creates a burst of sensation all over me.
I can’t get enough of his taste and begin probing his lips with my tongue, not needing the invitation. Maxwell’s moan is the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.
I need to hear it again.
Our tongues begin swirling in a rhythmic motion, and I hear the clink of him placing his glass down on the coffee table. He reaches a free hand around the back of my head, circling the nape of my neck and bringing me forward, deepening our kiss.
The vibration from my phone snaps me out of a trance, and I break off the kiss and see the incoming call from Daniella.
“You going to answer it?” Maxwell asks as we both gaze at my phone that’s continuing to ring, neither of us able to move.
“No, I need a minute to think. I can’t talk to my sister right now.”
“Okay, so…” Max starts off saying until I meet his gaze. The confusion I’m feeling must show on my face.
“I don’t know what happens now,” I say, wondering if the best kiss of my life may have caused a ripple effect into the best job and friendship I’ve ever had.