23. Max
MAX
The sun beats down on the Whitmores’ tennis court. The cameras are rolling, capturing b-roll of Grace and me playing. Across the net, Grace laughs as she swings her racket.
I hate tennis. I’m just counting the minutes until I can take Heidi home.
I didn’t let her leave the guest house until two in the morning, and I only relented because I knew she needed sleep.
I’m exhausted. My muscles are heavy, and my wrists are sore where she had me tied to the headboard.
My mind is stuck on a loop of her mouth and her hands. The way she completely wrecked me.
Heidi sits on the sidelines in crisp corporate clothes, reviewing something on her tablet. She looks perfectly composed, like last night never happened.
I send a shot wide, making Grace sprint for it. While the crew follows her, I let my gaze drift back to Heidi. It won't be long now. We’ll be together properly. No more hiding.
Movement behind her catches my eye. My grip tightens on the racket.
Finn.
He strolls out in a polo and tennis shorts, clearly hoping to wander into the frame. He drops onto the bench beside Heidi and leans in far too close, his shoulder brushing hers.
I’ve heard the stories. Finn doesn’t just get into trouble; he looks for it.
Most of the time, he finds it with women.
He gets off on the pursuit, pouring that bored, rich-kid energy into winning someone over just to see if he can.
The second they give in, he's done. He discards them like yesterday’s news and moves on.
Right now, he’s looking at Heidi like she’s next on his list.
Across the court, Grace tosses the ball for a serve.
I swing. Every bit of my irritation, and the memory of Finn’s mouth on Heidi, goes into the shot.
The ball rockets across the court and slams straight into Finn’s face.
Crack.
His sunglasses fly off and clatter against the pavement.
Finn hunches over, clutching his nose. The crew freezes.
“Sorry,” I call out evenly. “Ball got away from me.”
Finn looks up, eyes watering.
“You alright, Finn?”
He reaches for his glasses, still bent over, but I’m already pulling another ball from my pocket.
I don’t wait for Grace to get ready. I fire a serve. The ball whistles past Finn’s ear.
“Really off my game today,” I add.
Finn doesn’t answer. He presses a hand to his face and retreats toward the house.
I glance at Heidi.
She shakes her head at me, but there’s a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
She stands from the bench, smoothing a hand over her skirt as the expression disappears, replaced by the cool composure she wears in front of the cameras.
“Alright,” she calls out briskly. “That’s a wrap.”
The crew exhales like someone just released a pressure valve.
Grace and I walk over to her.
“Do I seriously have to stay at the Westmere?” Grace asks immediately. She says it like she’s being exiled to a roadside motel instead of the city’s most expensive penthouse suite.
Heidi doesn’t miss a beat. “Grace, the rules were set weeks ago. You and Colette stay at the Westmere for the week of the premiere. Max returns to his apartment. We need the distance for the narrative.”
That was a small victory I’d fought for during negotiations. It’s essentially house arrest, but at least I’ll be in my own place. Starting Monday, the first episodes drop, and the countdown to the live proposal begins.
“Marissa will take you ring shopping next Wednesday,” Heidi says, looking at me before turning back to Grace. “You’ve shown her the styles you like?”
Grace gives a shallow nod. “There’s only one. It’s over budget, but I assume Max will make up the difference.”
My brow furrows. “Difference?”
Grace looks at me like I’ve asked a stupid question. “You can’t honestly expect me to wear some cheap, off-the-shelf rock.”
I can. In fact, I don't want to spend a single cent on her. But I keep my voice steady.
“Over budget by how much?” I ask.
“Seven.”
My stomach does a slow roll. “Seven hundred thousand?”
“Seven million,” Grace says. She says it like she’s asking for a coffee, not the price of a small estate. She’s so far removed from reality she doesn't even realize how insane she sounds.
“Our budget is a hundred thousand,” Heidi interjects. Her voice is neutral, but I can see it in the set of her shoulders. She thinks Grace is as delusional as I do.
“That’s embarrassing,” Grace says. She looks at the crew like they should be offended for her. “This is going to be on television. I won't be humiliated by a diamond the size of a car payment.”
“Seven million is a hell of an ask,” I say.
“For your wife?” She steps closer and straightens my collar. She lowers her voice, although Heidi can still hear her. “Don’t be cheap, Max. The whole world is going to be watching us. I want them sick with envy, and a hundred-thousand-dollar ring won't do that.”
I look at her, at the lack of soul behind her eyes. "I’m not spending seven million dollars to make people I don't know jealous."
Her voice turns sharp and cold. "You’ll get the ring I want, Max. Or there’s going to be a big problem.”
She doesn't wait for a reply. She storms off toward the house. John and Elias follow behind, carrying their gear.
“Don’t spend a cent over budget,” Heidi says once Grace and the crew are out of earshot.
“I won’t.” I take a step closer, lowering my voice so only she can hear. “You didn’t tell me what you thought of your ring.”
We were a little preoccupied last night, and after hearing Grace’s performance about diamonds, a small doubt creeps in.
“I can get something different—”
“No.” Her answer comes quick and certain. Her voice softens. “It’s perfect. It’s beautiful, Max. Truly.”
Some of the tension in my shoulders eases.
“I didn’t even ask what it cost,” I admit. “I told Will what I wanted and gave him my card details. That was it.” I glance at her hand, imagining the ring there. “I don’t want you measuring the price and thinking it means something about how I feel.”
She’s watching me carefully now.
“If you wanted a seven-million-dollar ring,” I add quietly, “I’d buy it.”
“Max, I don’t care about the price.”
Her fingers brush mine for the briefest second. The contact is light, almost accidental, but it sends a spark straight through my chest.
“…I love it.”
I glance toward the house, then back to her. “I still can’t believe you’re actually coming over tonight.”
“I have to go through the footage with Miles once Grace is settled,” she says. “But after that…”
Her gaze flicks to the house, then back to me.
“…it’s just us.”
“You’ll wear the ring?” I ask quietly.
She smiles then. It’s a quick, private flash of the woman who had me tied to a headboard a few hours ago. She doesn’t answer out loud. She just nods once and turns toward the house.
I stay where I am, racket still in my hand, watching her disappear through the doors.
House arrest sounded like a prison sentence when I signed the contract.
But if Heidi’s the one visiting the cell, I’ll lock the door myself.