9. Carver
nine
carver
“What the hell were you thinking?!” Harrison yelled, but I simply looked at the window. Not that I could actually see anything.
Fuck, I couldn’t feel anything.
Nothing but fear and dread ran through my veins. All I could see was the hurt painted on Max’s face. Hurt I was soley responsible for. I’d tried to come clean! Hell, moments before shit the fan, that was exactly what I tried to do!
But it didn’t matter. I had still fucked up.
I had the time to come clean. Why hadn’t I told her who I really was when I confessed I wasn’t a masseuse? Why?! Because you’re a fucking idiot! a voice in my head repeated over and over.
Harrison didn’t shut up once on the way back to the resort. Every mile that he drove farther and farther from Max felt wrong. Like something inside of me was clawing its way to get out. I shouldn’t have let her walk away. I shouldn’t have left with Harrison. What I should have done was chase after her, hold her to me until she promised to listen. Fuck!
The rest of the day was a blur. I had no idea how long it had been since Harry and I arrived back at The Crown and I forced myself to walk to my office instead of jumping into a car and driving back down to the main area of Moonlit Pines and straight to her apartment.
I’d fucked up. Royally. Now I needed to figure out how to make things right. I needed her to listen to me. To let daddy explain and to somehow talk her into giving me another chance.
I glanced at my watch, and my brows bunched tightly. How the fuck was it so late already? How long had I been lost in my thoughts? I stood up just as I watched Stan enter my office. The old man looked like he wanted to throttle me. I knew he hadn’t liked me before, and now he must really think I was a piece of shit.
“Storm, we gotta talk.” I begrudgingly sat down and pointed to the chairs in front of my desk.
“Take a seat.”
“I’m okay standing,” Stan clipped, standing ramrod straight in front of my desk with envelopes in his hands.
“What are those?” I asked stupidly. I knew what he was doing.
“Resignation letters.” He set them on top of my desk to let me see the names on top.
Stan. Olive. Max. Berta.
“Stan, this is unnecessary—“ I started to say, but he put a finger out, and I quieted.
“I’m going to tell you something, and you’re going to listen.” I sat straighter. I wasn’t used to anyone talking to me in that way who wasn’t one of my brothers. “I don’t know what you were doing with Max. If this was some kind of bullshit midlife crisis you were going through or some kind of billionaire asshole game you and your brothers like to play, or what. But I do know, I’ve seen your type before.”
“My type?”
“You know what I mean. Too much money, too good-looking, bored with how easy life is. I’ve dealt with them, and I’m gonna deal with you.”
“Okay,” I said. My hands were clasped in front of me, and I waited patiently for him to do whatever he needed to do or say. It was only fair. From everything Max had told me, he was the closest thing she had to family other than a sister who traveled the world.
“That kid was just that, a kid, when she started working here. Just turned sixteen, and shortly after, all alone in the world. Her dad was never in the picture, and her mom worked herself to an early grave,” he rasped. “She was a good woman. The best. Doing everything she could for her girls. Anything to give them a better life.” His jaw clenched tightly, like he was trying to hold back his emotions. Part of me wondered if he had been involved with her, but I figured if there was ever a time to ask, now was not it.
“Max was sleeping on the floor by the lockers because their landlord evicted her from the small apartment she and her mom lived in. He did that shit a week after her mom passed because Max didn’t pay the rent since she had used the money to help lay her mom to rest.” A muscle twitched beneath the old man’s eye. “After I discovered she was sleeping on the floor and sneaking into the kitchen to get food after school, I helped her out as much as I could. Offered her my guest room, but that girl is as stubborn as she is kind. She wouldn’t hear of it, so I helped however I could. The people who work at The Crown, the ones who actually keep it running, no matter whose name is on the deed, care about her. They love her more than she even knows. I know what you’re thinking when you look at those resignation letters. It’s only four of us. We’re easily replaceable, and you’re probably right. We can be. Berta has been here the longest and is only a few months from retirement. I’ve been here a year less than her. Olive and Max will be fine. But we will only be the start. You can expect a lot of the other employees to do what we are the moment they hear about this, kid.”
“Stan—“
“Now, like I said, I’ve dealt with assholes like you. The last two owners were pieces of shit who thought they could get away with anything. By the end of them selling this place, there was a reason they were working from other places instead of at the resort. Life can get uncomfortable in a small town when everyone knows what a fucking douchebag you can be.” Had Stan heard about what creeps they had been and got rid of them? It was clear he was threatening me. I had to bite away a smile.
Not because I got off on being told shit but because I liked the set of balls on him.
He was a good man. Stood up for what was right and called out wrongs. He was exactly who we needed working at The Crown.
“I love her, Stan,” I said calmly and easily. “I have never loved anyone, not even close to the way I love Max.” The man’s expression didn’t change, and I knew that even though I didn’t owe him one, I had to explain.
“It was a misunderstanding that got out of hand. But if I’m honest, you’re right. I did like the fact she didn’t know I was Carver Storm or that she was clueless about how much money I had. She liked me for me. Max told it straight, something that even though she might not be blood related to you, I’m thinking she got from you,” I complimented before I reached for the top left drawer of my desk. I opened it, took what I had hid in the back, and brought it out. Opened the small blue velvet box and set it on the resignation envelopes.
“I wasn’t kidding, Stan. I love her. I ordered this to get this done the day after you had her clean my office.”
“You did?” His gray brows bunched, his focus on the table.
“When you know, you know. And I knew before I saw her face,” I admitted. “I want to marry her. No prenup. No games or charades. I want to build a cabin at the far end of the lake for her and the family I hope we’ll one day have.”
“She’d love to live there.” He sighed under his breath so low I wondered if I had imagined it.
“I might not have done things the right way?—“
“Might?” he called me out, and I nodded.
“I didn’t,” I corrected. “I didn’t do things the right way, but I love her. No one in the world will ever love her the way I do. I want to give her everything and, sure, some of that is buying her nice shit, but most of it is just taking care of her. I want to make sure she… she smiles as much as possible and that she eats right, because when she gets to working here or designing her coloring books, she forgets.”
“She does,” Stan agreed.
“I want Max to be my wife. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to see her smile. To make sure she was safe and sound.” I didn’t share the fact I even had cameras at her place and in the laundry room so I could watch her and be there if she so much as even got a paper cut, or that I tracked her location. I had a feeling he wouldn’t extend any kind of generosity before he called the cops and wouldn’t rest until I was arrested.
But he didn’t say a word.
The old man simply stood there, his old, weathered face unreadable as he stared at me for a long time. So long I could have sworn my heart was about to jump out of my chest.
“Stan, I swear to you, I love her. The way we met…” I winced. “It was all a misunderstanding. Then, when she told me what she had heard about me, the real me, I panicked. I didn’t know how to tell her I was the asshole boss everyone tried to avoid. You included,” I shared and waited.
I had to give it to the old man; he had hell of a poker face.
“She said that to you?” he asked, his tone monotone. My shoulders slumped forward. I felt like I was losing her, like Max was slipping between my fingers.
“Yes. She told me all about what people said about the older Storm brother and what a fucking monster he was to deal with. If you were me, what would you have done? There I am, at my freaking age, meeting the woman of my dreams.”
“She’s a lot younger than you,” he reminded me with clear distaste on his face.
“I know that.” I stood straighter, shoving my hands, along with the ring box, into my front pockets.
“The new uniforms and jackets that came in yesterday,” he brought up, tilting his head to the side. “You do that?” he asked slowly, watching me.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“Enlighten me, kid.” His arms crossed over his chest.
“Our employees?—“
“Not the bullshit answer you probably told your brothers, but the truth.” Fine, if that’s what he wanted.
“She works nights, Stan. I wasn’t kidding when I told you I want to be the one to provide for her. To take care of her in every way possible,” I pointed out the unnecessary. Stan knew what time every damn employee worked, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that included the employees in the spa, restaurant, and the chalet, where we rented out ski and snow boarding equipment.
“Max walks around the resort late at night. Not just because she was pitching in to help with housekeeping. She does it regularly, and even if we’re heading into summer, we’re still on a mountain, and the air gets chilly.”
“You were worried about her.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. His eyes narrowed and brows bunched. “Why the new uniform shirts?”
“The other ones were shit. Scratchy and…” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. “I didn’t want her wearing something uncomfortable.”
The old man took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I had no idea what to expect. He picked up the resignation letters off the top of my desk before exhaling and looking at my eyes. Max might not have parents for me to meet, but Stan was a hell of a lot scarier.
“You hurt her, you step out on her, or make her cry one more fucking time, and I swear it won’t matter what your last name is or how much is in your bank account, kid.” He pointed at me, and I swallowed. “I know this mountain. Been here all my life. I know all the little nooks and crannies. People go missing all the time. You do anything to that girl other than make her life a goddamn fairy tale, and no one will find you. They’ll think you got abducted by freaking aliens with how you vanished into thin air. You understand me, boy?”
“I do.” I nodded. As scary as Stan sounded in that moment, I was glad Max had someone like him in her corner.
“I might be old, but I’m far from stupid, kid. I know what you’re thinking. I’m old as hell, but let me tell you something; I know a lot of people who wouldn’t mind getting their hands dirty for that girl.”
“I understand, Stan. If I hurt her, I’ll hand you the shovel. I love her. I want her to be my wife because she’s already my entire life,” I shared, and the man made a face.
“Good,” he huffed. “Now, go make it right!”
“Make it—“ I hesitated. Could I just show up to her place again? “She needs time.” I shook my head, and I could have sworn the old man looked disappointed in me.
“Kid, I’m telling you this as a man who has had his share of spins around the sun. Time and space are the last things she needs.”
“Stan—“
“That girl gets too much time and space, she’s going to get in her head and talk herself out of whatever you two started. I know her. She doesn’t get close to people, and for a damn good reason. Life has dealt her shit cards time and time again. But what the fuck do I know? You go ahead and dig your own grave.” He started to walk out but stopped at the doorway.
“Just so you know… If you don’t fix this, you and Harrison will be getting these, and you better plan on hiring a shit ton more people because the ones here will only be the tip of the iceberg.” He waved the resignation letters in his hand before he disappeared. I sat down on my desk and scrubbed my face. “We might be easily replaceable, but trust me, hiring and training people to do our jobs for the hours and money we get? Good luck, because it’s going to be the biggest fucking headache of your life.”
What the hell am I doing? I had to go after her.
My eyes dropped to my laptop. I needed to see her. To know what she was doing. I opened and started it up, heading to the window that would give me eyes into her place.
But she wasn’t there. The cameras were all looking at the same thing, from almost the same angle. Shit. I blinked, looking at the screens, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Two wine bottles and an empty glass.
Not only wasn’t she there, but the cameras were all together. She found them. She had found the cameras and set them down on her kitchen table. I sat up and grabbed my phone. Bringing up the find my phone app because I had made sure to have her share her location with me one day a week ago when she was in the bathroom. Not that she knew she was. When her location finally updated, I couldn’t believe it.
I stood up, ready to search for her. My phone said she was here, at the resort. I grabbed my keys, and when I looked up, there she was, as if I had conjured her up.
“Max!” I called out, but any other words died on my tongue. Her eyes were rimmed red from crying, and if I was right, her body swayed slightly.
“Carver Storm. The guy who signs my paychecks,” she mumbled before her brows bunched and she glared at me so damn adorably my heart squeezed, “You have a lot of explaining to do.” She pointed at me. There was no denying the anger in her voice.
Max stepped into my office, and I couldn’t seem to string two words together. She tripped over her feet as she walked directly to my desk but somehow caught herself. She set a camera down, and I looked at it, then back at her.
“So… not only did you lie about who you were and what you did, but you’ve been watching me?” she asked.
I opened and shut my mouth like a goddamn goldfish. I should have gone after her like Stan said.
“Why!?” Her hand slammed on the top of my desk, and she winced in pain. “Ow!” she cried, lifting her hand to rub it, and that somehow snapped me out of my stupor.
“Shit!” I rounded my desk carefully, worried she would run out on me if I got too close.
“Are you hurt?” I asked, unable to stop myself. I reached for her hand. She tried to pull it away, but I didn’t let her.
“If I was, would you care?” she exclaimed but didn’t try to take her hand away from mine.
“You know I would, Max. I love you.” Too much too fast. She ripped her hand from mine and stepped back. Crossed her arms over her chest with a scowl on her face.
“You said you were a grown man who didn’t play games,” she accused, and my eyes shut for a second with remorse.
“Max, princess?—“
“Shut up! Never call me that again!” She shouted. Her lip wobbled. “I can’t believe anything you say. Not ever.”
“Baby—“
“I hate you,” she whispered. Her shoulders slumped forward almost in defeat. Everything inside me yelled at me to reach for her, but I stayed planted mere inches from her. It might as well have been an ocean between us.
“I want to hate you so much,” she sniffled and took a step closer, then another.
“Princess, please?—“
“Please, what? What are you going to tell me now? How many other lies are there? You’re married? Have two kids with one on the way? But you love me, so it makes everything okay? You’ll leave your wife for me?” she accused, and I shook my head.
“I’m not married. I’ve never been married, not even close.”
“Is that because you lie to women maybe?”
“No one got what you got from me, Max.”
“Lies?” she asked, too sassy for her own good. Fuck, I loved it, though. I loved that she called me on my bullshit. No other woman had ever loved me or had even been interested in the real me the way Max had. The way she had seen me and wanted me. And I pray I didn’t fuck it all up!
“Because that’s what I got from you. Lies! How could you, Dadd—“ The fact she cut herself off from calling me that killed. It filled me with fear that I would lose her.
“I can explain if you let me.”
“Two weeks… more than that! I’ve been living a lie. And what? Did you get a good laugh out of it? I hope you got that at least. Dating the poor girl. Lying to her to make her think you were what? Some regular guy?”
“Baby, that’s not what?—“
“Don’t call me that,” she mumbled. “I want to hate you so badly it hurts. Everything in here“ —she pointed at her heart—“hurts. You hurt me.” The pain in her eyes cracked my heart further.
“I know.” I swallowed hard. “But I swear I’m sorry. Please let me explain, let me make it up to you. Jesus, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, Max. I promise.”
“I don’t think so.” She shook her head. Her wavy, dark hair bounced slightly, and I’d had enough. I pulled her into my arms, and that’s when I smelled the wine on her breath. She didn’t drive, but her being here meant she had taken the bus, public transportation, intoxicated.
Did she have any idea how dangerous that was? How some creep could have taken advantage of her?
“Have you been drinking?” I growled.
“Who cares if I have. I’m old enough. Buts tens again, I was old enough to know better. Love isn’t reals. Fairy tales aren’t reals. But you should be proud of yourself,” she slurred, breaking my heart with every word she said.
“You made me believe in them. In all of it. Even if it was just—“ She breathed in through her nose and suddenly went pale. Her body swayed, and I lifted her face to look at me.
“Max?” I called, but she didn’t say a word.
She hunched over and threw up all over my shoes. I held her close as the contents of her stomach emptied themselves onto the carpet of my office.
“Oh god,” she cried.
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” I soothed, rubbing her back while holding her hair back.
“It’s not,” she cried. “Life sucks.”
“Baby—“
“No.” She shook her head. “This is my life. My own mess.”
“What are you?—“
“I threw up all over your shoes and office. And wanna know the shitty part? I’m going to be the one who has to clean it up. I can’t let Bertie take care of this! God, my life sucks,” she muttered, giving me some of her weight. She looked up at me. Those big beautiful brown eyes made my knees weak. She had just thrown up and told me off, but to me, she was still the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen.
Right then and there, I knew I would be the one cleaning up this mess and any others. Berta nor Max or any other employee would.
“I wish I didn’t love you,” she said, and my heart soared with hope. Hope that was quickly replaced by concern as she passed out cold, right in my arms.
I picked her up like a grown would his bride and side-stepped the puke, not that it mattered since my shoes were covered in it. I carried my girl to the elevator and up to the penthouse suite Stan insisted we keep on hold in case of nights we didn’t want to walk across the resort to our rooms.
My priority was to take care of her.
Carefully, I cleaned her up, taking her puke-stained clothes off, and slipped her into one of the resort robes before setting her down in the big bed. She didn’t stir once. I knew she didn’t drink, and by the looks of what I had seen, she’d had two bottles of wine. I stroked her face, brushing her damp hair out of her face, when her eyes opened gently, and Max reached for my hand.
“Can you lie to me for one more night?” she whispered, obviously still drunk.
“Baby—“
“Sleep with me? Before I have to be all alone again.” She licked her lips and shut her eyes. And before I could answer her, she started to snore softly.
I sighed and looked down at myself. I couldn’t hold her while she slept the way I was.
I hurried back to the bathroom and took a quick shower. After tossing my shoes into the trashcan, I peeked my head into the room with a towel around my waist to make sure my girl hadn’t jetted out while I was in here. Thankfully, she was still lying in bed, completely knocked out.
I went into the walk-in closet and changed into a pair of navy-blue dress slacks and a white button-up I had stored in there in case of emergencies. Then I stepped out and dragged a chair to her bedside.
Everything inside me wanted to hop back in bed with her, wrap my arms around her tightly so she could never let go. But I didn’t. My girl didn’t drink, and tonight, she got drunk because I had broken her trust in so many different ways.
Now I had to get my ass on a road of redemption, so to speak.
Show her she could trust me once again and hopefully keep loving me.