Chapter 25
25
Max
The morning went by in a blur of nerves and frustration. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t focus. I wanted to kill Costa; I was pissed at Fleur for not letting me in. For not trusting me with her secrets from the beginning.
How could she think anything would change the way I felt about her?
I took the Jubilee line to Canary Wharf, my mind on Fleur the entire time. I tried to push her out, tried to focus on the interview rather than the drama, but it was impossible. I was beginning to realize that it was hard to be happy when she was dealing with so much.
I just had to get through the next few hours.
This last interview was an audition of sorts. I’d passed their tests, answered their questions. Today was a meet and greet with all the candidates and the partners. If this went well, we’d been told to expect calls with formal job offers. There were twenty of us that had made it this far, and about half would be admitted into the training program.
I wore the suit Fleur had picked out for me and a new gray tie that she’d bought me as an early Christmas present. In true Fleur fashion, the tie was Gucci.
I got off the Tube and was caught up in the sea of I-bankers headed to lunch. Nerves rolled around in my empty stomach, and I instantly regretted skipping breakfast. I hadn’t been hungry after all the drama with Fleur, but now I needed the extra boost.
If things didn’t go well today, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. There would be other jobs. My GPA was pretty much perfect, I spoke Mandarin and I had some solid internships on my résumé from both summer jobs and my time in China. Plus, I’d worked through three years at the International School. I’d find something before graduation.
But I wanted this job.
I was the first person in my family to go to college. When I’d told my parents I wanted to study in London, that I wanted to work in finance, they’d laughed at me. For them, the idea of me working with millions of pounds was ludicrous. We’d never been poor, but I hadn’t grown up with many luxuries. They hadn’t understood why I wanted to go overseas, why I wanted more.
Hell, I wasn’t even sure myself.
I loved numbers. I always had. And more than that, I wanted to prove that I could do this. To myself more than anyone. Since I was usually so quiet, I think it surprised people to know that I was competitive as hell. But I was. I’d worked my ass off all through high school, all through college, and now I was here. And as much as I loved Fleur, and as much as I was worried about her, I couldn’t afford to choke.
I walked into the impressive glass building, and my focus began to return. This part of London was so different from Kensington, where the International School was located. This was the more modern part of the city. This was where deals were made, fortunes won and lost.
It was my future.
I checked in and waited until the receptionist told me to go up to the twenty-second floor. With each step, the nerves began to fade. In the beginning, when I’d started interviewing, the wealth surrounding me had been intimidating as hell. But of course, that had been pre-Fleur.
I’d spent enough time with her and her friends to no longer feel out of place. I understood now what she’d been telling me all along. It was all about attitude. Maybe I didn’t have a million-dollar portfolio, or a Rolex, or drive a fancy sports car, but I had my shit together. I was smart, and I was determined. And I knew without a doubt that I would be willing to work harder than anyone else in the room to succeed.
I channeled my inner-Fleur and something clicked inside me.
I worked the room, drink in hand, making conversation with the partners, laughing and joking around with the other candidates. I was no longer the skinny middle schooler who got mocked for playing video games and belonging to the Chess Club. I wasn’t the guy who wore the wrong tennis shoes to a London club, or the guy who had a crush on a girl he was too shy to talk to.
I was the guy I’d become this semester—the one who’d learned to go after what he wanted, who wasn’t afraid to put it all on the line. I was still me; I just didn’t feel the need to hang on the sidelines anymore. Fleur had shown me the confidence I needed to get into the game.
I rocked the meet and greet.
“We’ve been very impressed with what we’ve seen from you, Max,” the head of the training program remarked as we stood in the corner chatting about basketball. He was American like me, and apparently a huge Chicago fan.
“Thank you, sir. I’ve really enjoyed this opportunity. There’s nowhere else I’d rather work.”
Some people would have probably played it cool, but I’d never be one of those guys. So far being direct had served me well. I wasn’t the smoothest guy in the world, but I was honest.
He smiled. “Glad to hear it. I think you’ll be an excellent addition here. We’re not just looking for smart candidates but also individuals who will fit in with the work culture. We’re in a client-focused business and your ability to interact with our clientele is just as important as your investment knowledge.”
I nodded, really understanding what he meant for the first time in my life.
That had always been the biggest hurdle for me. I’d always been a numbers guy, but I hadn’t been the most social. But little by little, Fleur had helped bring me out of my shell. I realized now how much she’d done for me. The whole time I’d thought I was helping her get more serious about school, encouraging her to study, giving her the confidence she needed to believe that she had a shot at getting a good job after graduation.
I just hadn’t realized how much she’d been doing the same for me.
She made me a better person. She did it with everyone, and it was so effortless, it just happened. She supported Samir, made Mya laugh when she was dealing with family drama, gave Maggie the love and encouragement she needed. And she gave me confidence.
She gave the people around her the best parts of herself and made us better for it.
And suddenly, all I wanted was to see her, to talk to her.
I finished up the interview receiving smiles, handshakes and the promise that they would call me soon.
Then I went home to my girl.
I found her alone in her room.
“How did it go?” Fleur asked when she opened the door.
I barely let her get the words out before she was in my arms and I was kissing her.
We were so different, and yet, when we were together...it worked. We brought out the best in each other, learned from each other, made an amazing team. Our differences were what made it special. We challenged each other. It was rarely easy, it meant work and patience, but it was completely worth it.
And if there had been any doubts about whether I would fight for her, they’d been completely erased. I’d stand by her through anything.
She pulled back first, her mouth swollen, her eyes red-rimmed. I wrapped my arm around her, following her into the room and shutting the door behind us.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah. You didn’t answer me before. How was it?”
Worry filled her beautiful brown eyes, matching the strain in her voice.
“It was great. I think they’re going to offer me a spot.”
Her whole face transformed as she broke into a huge, beaming smile. She launched her body at me, throwing her arms around my neck, and I caught her, pulling her body to mine, lifting her feet off the floor.
“I’m so happy for you.” She buried her face in my neck. “I was so worried that you would be distracted, that I’d messed everything up for you. I’m so glad it went well.”
I ran my free hand over her hair, stroking gently. “Babe, you didn’t mess anything up. I never would have gotten this far without you.” I set her down on her feet. “It went well because of you. Because you gave me the confidence I needed to prove that I belonged there. I didn’t even know I needed it and you gave it to me anyway. You knew. You’ve been showing me what I needed all semester, and I didn’t even realize it.”
“Max—”
“Let me finish.” I took my hand in hers. “We work. It’s weird, and we probably shouldn’t work and yet when we’re together we’re both better. We make each other stronger. We support each other. We’re a team, and that means we stick together through the good times and bad.”
I took a deep breath.
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep, and if I say something, it’s because I mean it. There is nothing you could do or tell me that would change the way I feel about you. I love you. I will love you until the day I die. Whatever you’re dealing with, we will deal with together. I’m not going anywhere, Fleur. You’re so lodged in my heart I couldn’t carve you out even if I wanted to. And I don’t. So let me in. Please.”
Tears fell down her cheeks.
“Please don’t cry,” I whispered, closing the distance between us, kissing each tear as it fell.
I kissed her until she stopped crying and pulled back. “We need to talk,” she murmured.
“I know.”
She pulled away and sank down onto her bed, staring up at me.
“I was pregnant freshman year.” Her voice cracked as the first wave of shock hit me.
“Fleur...”
“It was Costa’s, obviously,” she continued, not meeting my gaze. “I was terrified at first when I found out. Wasn’t planning on having a baby. Ever, really. But then I began to love it. I don’t even know if it was a boy or a girl. It was too soon to tell.”
A tear trickled down her face. “I woke up one night when I was home in Paris for spring break and there was blood in the bed. I knew something was wrong. We went to the hospital, and the doctors told me I’d had a miscarriage.”
“Fleur...”
I knew parts of the story—knew Costa had cheated on her, knew he’d broken her heart, had just learned that they’d hooked up sophomore year. I’d heard about her overdose and seen the ugly feud between her and Natasha. Had seen firsthand the fury and humiliation she’d felt when her naked body was exposed for the whole school to see. All along, I’d thought those things had created the pain inside Fleur.
But when I heard the words I was pregnant , I knew. For all her swagger and attitude, for all that she pretended she glided through life, as soon as she spoke of her miscarriage, I finally understood that her heart had been broken, and it had nothing to do with Costa.
She loved so deeply, intensely, passionately. She had the biggest heart of anyone I knew, hidden under the layers she employed to keep it safe. She had loved her baby with everything she had, and my heart broke for her.
“That’s why I missed so much school at the end of freshman year,” she continued. “My parents told me not to tell anyone. They were angry about the whole situation. They said it was just another example of me screwing up. I was the party girl who always took things too far. They didn’t say as much, but I know they thought I deserved what happened.”
I gathered her in my arms, rocking her as she cried. I could only imagine how scared she must have been and how brave she’d been to survive it. When she spoke of her guilt, of the way her parents had treated her, tears welled up in my eyes.
Her pain filled the room, sweeping us both up in its wake. It was impossible to love someone and not feel like her hurts were a part of you, too, to not wish you could take away her losses.
“Two weeks later Costa cheated on me and then broke up with me. He said everything was too ‘intense’ for him.” Her voice cracked. “I thought he’d be there with me to mourn our baby. I kept waiting for him. I thought he was just scared. I didn’t realize until the end of sophomore year that he never really cared at all.”
She reached out and squeezed my hand as if she was holding on for strength. “I guess I haven’t been okay since then. I kept waiting to get over it. For this hole in my heart to disappear, but it never did. Natasha found out about the miscarriage and figured out it was me, and she’s been threatening to spread it around school.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell anyone about it?”
“I didn’t want to be the girl everyone looked at like she was a train wreck. Maybe it was stupid, but I didn’t want the pain of hearing people gossip about the miscarriage. Didn’t want to let it be real. It was easier to just pretend it never happened, that it happened to someone else.” She shook her head. “I was a coward—”
“No. Costa was the fucking coward.” I wanted to kill him for what he did to her. “You deserved to have someone by your side. You shouldn’t have gone through that on your own. God, Fleur. Don’t ever say you’re a coward. You’re the best person I know.”
I wished I knew what to do for her, how to make it better. I wanted to give her a baby, even though I knew that wouldn’t erase the memory of the one she’d lost.
She’d be such an amazing mother. I knew she still didn’t see it, still didn’t understand that her greatest strength was the depth with which she loved, but I knew it.
I wanted a daughter with her spirit. A daughter who would probably bankrupt me if she had a fashion habit like her mother’s. We were so young, and yet I wanted to give her the family she’d never really had. Maybe not now, but I knew without a doubt that she was my future, that we’d build a life together.
She already had my love.
When she finished speaking, we both just sat there, wrapped up in each other.
“What can I do?” I asked, my voice hoarse. “Just tell me what I can do. I’d do anything for you.”
Her gaze met mine. “I know,” she replied softly. “I don’t know how to fix this. I’m trying. Talking about it seems to be helping. I told Samir earlier.”
I nodded, not sure I trusted my voice enough to speak.
“Just be patient with me. I wish I could be the girl you need me to be, but I’m still fixing myself. It’s going to take time.”
“I can do that.” I tried to clear my throat, pushing out the knot that had been lodged there. There would be time later for me to process all of this. Now I had to be strong for her. “Have you thought about talking to someone?”
“Yeah. Samir suggested it.”
Who would have thought Samir and I would agree on something?
“Since school’s almost out, I found a therapist in Paris. I’ll go during break, and then when I come back in January I’ll find someone here.”
“Sounds like a good plan. I’m here for you, Fleur. For whatever you need.”
She squeezed my hand. “I know. I went to the administration and filed a formal complaint about Natasha. Told them about the pictures and the blackmail. I saved everything, so that helped. I’m not sure what they’ll do to her, and honestly, I don’t even care, but I just needed to feel like I was doing something.”
“Good.”
“I can’t stop this from getting out, and it might.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and if it does get out, I’m not going to deny it. It’s no one’s business, but I’m also not going to hide like I’m scared or like I did something wrong.” Worry filled her gaze. “It could get kind of ugly. I understand if you don’t want to deal with it.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere. And if it does get ugly, I’ll be here. It’ll be okay, I promise.” I squeezed her hand. “We’ll get through this.”
And then I kissed her, giving her everything I had. I’d only intended for it to be a kiss, didn’t want to push her into sex when she was so upset, but even sad, Fleur wasn’t one to shy away from taking the lead.
She began stripping off my clothes, seducing me with her hands and mouth, wrapping her legs around me.
“I need you,” she whispered, arching her hips and offering her body to me. “Please.”
I’d never been very good at saying no to her, so I gave her what she wanted, what we needed, until our bodies joined and she was crying out my name.
I got the investment banking job. And news of Fleur’s miscarriage didn’t come out. Natasha had her hands full with the investigation after Fleur turned over all her proof to the administration, so I figured she didn’t want to press her luck. No one wanted to get expelled with a semester to go until graduation.
Fleur didn’t seem to care.
We both focused on exams, cramming in the library. We presented our fashion app in Project Finance and received an A. Fleur joked that it was the first A she’d ever received in school.
We’d get our final grades in the rest of our classes next semester, but she was no longer worried about graduating and had even managed to line up an interview in January for an internship.
At the end of the semester, I took her to St. Pancras to board the Eurostar to Paris. I was headed back to Chicago for Christmas break and Fleur was going home, too. I’d been worried about her spending the holidays by herself, but Samir and Maggie decided to go to Paris, as well, so at least she would have them to keep her company. They were taking a later train after Samir finished his grad school exams.
Fleur held my hand at the station, her other arm wrapped around my waist while we waited for her train. It was only a month, and still it felt like four weeks too long.
“I’m going to miss you.”
She kissed me, cuddling closer. “Me, too.”
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Promise. I have my first therapy appointment set up for Monday.”
“Okay. You know if you need to talk while you’re there, I’m just a phone call away. We can Skype. And email. And chat.”
She grinned. “We’ll talk every day. And I promise I’ll be okay. Just enjoy being home and don’t worry about me.”
Not likely, but I gave her what she wanted.
“Okay.”
An announcement came over the loudspeakers calling for first class to start boarding. My girl traveled in style.
“That’s you.”
I looped my arms around her waist, leaning down to capture her mouth. She threw her arms around my neck, putting everything she had into the kiss. Her mouth opened, her tongue teasing mine, and then the kiss exploded.
It wasn’t the kind of kiss you’d typically have in public, but Fleur wasn’t typical. She kissed like she did everything else—exactly the way she wanted it, not caring if anyone saw.
We broke apart when the announcer came on the loudspeaker again.
I groaned. “You can’t kiss me like that and then go away for a month.”
She gave me an arch look and a knowing smile. “Just making sure no American girl stands a chance.”
I cracked up, pulling her back into my arms. “Never.”
I couldn’t resist the opportunity to kiss her again, making her mouth mine just like she’d done to me.
She leaned back, breathless, staring up at me with wide eyes.
“Just making sure you stay away from guys named Pierre or Jacques,” I teased.
She grinned. “I love you.”
I reached out and squeezed her hand, pulling it to my heart. “I love you, too.”
I let her go, standing on the platform, watching as she did “the walk,” the one that had ensnared me for years. Her stride lengthened, her mile-long legs eating up the pavement. Her hips swayed, her long brown hair flipping over her shoulders in a tumble of curls and silk. She walked like she knew everyone in the train station’s eyes were on her, wanting her, wishing they had her. And then she turned, and our gazes connected across the platform, and I knew ...
She did the walk for me.
I watched my dream girl walk away, carrying my heart with her, a smile on my face.
Because this time I knew she’d be back. And she was mine.