Chapter 11 #2
"But nothing. Let's schedule it for the beginning of next month. Okay? I still have to speak to Dad."
"You're not going to tell him what I said, right?" she asks softly.
"No, I won't tell him that you know about him cheating or that your mom is cheating, as well."
"Why are they like that?" she asks, her voice low and vulnerable. "Why can't they just be in love and just be with each other?"
"Because they weren't made that way," I explain as gently as I can. "I don't know."
"Is that why you can't settle with one woman?" she asks.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"Is it because you know you can’t be faithful and you just want a different woman every night?"
"Marie, I know you think I'm a player and that I have all these women, but trust me when I say I do not have a different woman every night. If I did, do you think I would be on the phone with you right now?"
"That's true," she admits. "But you never settle down, and you never talk about wanting to get married or have kids or…"
"Because I don't know that I see that in my life plan," I say. "Not that I have anything against it, but it's just not my dream right now. It's not a goal of mine."
"You don't want to be in love and have that special person in your life that you can just chat with and hang out with and…" She sighs. "I mean, don't you ever feel lonely, Max?"
I pause for a second and think about her words. "Sometimes," I say, realizing that it's true. "Sometimes, when I'm sitting on the couch and watching a movie, and I laugh or get sad, I think about turning to the person next to me and seeing how they feel. But there's no one there."
"I know the feeling," Marie says. "I hate watching movies by myself."
"I know, but what about your best friend? What's her name again?" I feel bad that I can't remember her best friend's name.
"You can't remember my best friend's name?" she says, sounding hurt.
"It's Poppy," I say, laughing.
"You’re crazy," she says. "Poppy and I are no longer best friends. My new best friend is Bella."
"Oh, yeah," I say, vaguely remembering a long story involving Poppy, Bella, and a handbag they'd all wanted. "You're not going to miss her when you come to New York?"
"No, because I never see her. She got a boyfriend, and all they do is make out, and I don't want to be a third wheel."
"You don't mind being a third wheel with me?" I ask her.
"Well, you don't have a girlfriend, so why would I be a third wheel?"
"Touché," I say, laughing. "You do realize that I work a lot, and I'm going to have to get a nanny or something or a live-in governess, right?"
"A live-in governess. Are you kidding me, Max? I'm eighteen, not eight."
"Well, I'm just saying there's going to have to be someone here to help with chores and cooking and looking after you and making sure you don't sneak out or have men over or boys or whatever you call the guys you date."
"I don't date."
"Yeah. Well, maybe when you come to the city, you’ll feel differently about that."
"Fine," she says. "Do whatever you’ve got to do just as long as I can get out of here."
"I'll give Dad a call tomorrow, and we'll figure it out. Okay?"
"Thank you, Max. That's why you're my favorite big brother ever."
"That's because I'm your only big brother."
"I know, but I love you."
"I love you, too, little sis. You have a good night. Okay?”
“You, too. And don't spend too much time not thinking about Lila."
"I don't—" I start to protest, but she hangs up.
I shake my head as I place the phone down on the counter and stare off into the night.
"Lila," I say her name out loud. “Lila, Lila, Lila,” I repeat her name, and an image of her beautiful face pops into my head.
Her beguiling blue eyes, her blonde, silky hair.
Marie had been correct in her statement.
Lila is drop-dead gorgeous, and even though I don't want to admit it to anyone, especially myself, I can’t stop thinking about how perfectly proportioned her body is and how sparkling her blue eyes are and or how luscious and pink her lips are.
She’s going to be trouble. The fact that she has a sense of humor and makes me laugh is even more damning.
I don't need this complication in my life.
And now she wants to complicate the case with Jack Whittington, who I can't stand.
He is obviously a jackass, and when he started flirting with Lila, I'd been about to smack him. But he’s a potential client.
A potential client worth hundreds of millions of dollars, millions of which would be poured into my law firm. I can't lose him as a client.
I let out a deep sigh, and before I know what’s happening, I’ve picked up my phone and logged into the HR database so I can find Lila's phone number. I’m annoyed to see that they don’t have her in the system yet, but I have another program I can use to find out her information.
It’s easy enough. Her name isn't exactly common. I stare at the number on the screen and debate calling it. I have no reason to be calling her at this time, but for some reason, I just need to have some contact with her. I wonder if she’s thinking about me.
I wonder if she’s even going to come back to work tomorrow.
I feel a dip in my stomach as I think about the possibility that she won’t come back to work.
I need to ensure that wasn't so. I need to see her again.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I’ve typed her phone number into my phone and sent a message.
"You up?" I text, then put the phone back down.
I don't know what I’m doing. Maybe this is the biggest mistake of my life. Maybe she won't even respond, but as the phone pings a few seconds later, a smile crosses my face. She’s up and ready to flirt back. At least, that's what I’m hoping.
“Who is this?” The message reads.
“It’s your boss.”
“Mrs. Cartwright?”
“This is Max Spector.”
“Do you have the right number? I have no idea who you are.”
“Lila?”
“My name is Bob.”
“Sorry.” I frown as I stare at the phone. Had Lila deliberately given us an incorrect phone number? I go back into the database, find her email address, and try emailing instead.
From: MaxSpector@
To: Lilathethespian@
Re: My bagel
Please let me know if you need my bagel order for the morning.
I send the email and wait. Five minutes later, a response comes through.
From: Lilathethespian@
To: MaxSpector@
Re: My bagel
Get your own. Also, I’m not your assistant after hours.
A warm feeling settles in my stomach when I see her response. Email isn’t as good as texting, but it will have to do for now. I just need a distraction for the evening that doesn’t involve the law or my very messed-up family.