11. Max
eleven
max
“These are nice.” I smiled tightly as I took a uniform jacket Stan was handing out at an employee meeting
It had been two long days since I woke up in the penthouse room and Carver had walked away from me. He didn’t walk away. He said he was giving you space, a voice in my head reminded me. It felt like he had walked away from me. He hadn’t even texted me once.
Maybe he realized I wasn’t a distraction worth his time? I wondered and sighed.
“Mr. Storm got everyone one of these“—Stan lifted the jacket so everyone in the small conference room could see—“and the new shirts as well.” You could see everyone nodding, obviously impressed by the quality and the fact the new owners cared enough about keeping us warm.
“Everyone have their things?” Stan asked, and everyone nodded. “Good. Now, the Storms have also started a new rewards program for their employees as well as a new benefits package.”
“Shit,” Oli muttered next to me. “Just as I was starting to daydream about leaving this place,” she mumbled. My lips twitched. You and me both, I wanted to say but kept the words to myself. If I said it, there would be too many questions. It was bad enough that Stan knew and kept looking at me like he was expecting me to break out into tears at any moment.
“Now, don’t forget, we are hosting a hiring fair at the end of the month in the ball room. Every department will have openings. So, please tell your friends, neighbors, and family. The Storms are looking to hire over a hundred people by summer,” Stan shared before waving everyone by and stepping down and heading towards us. Oli was on my right, and Bertie was on my left.
“These are nice!” Bertie said, feeling the material of the new jackets and uniform polos. “Very soft. They didn’t cheap out this time, that’s for sure.”
“Right.” I smiled.
“I’ll be right back.” Olive patted my shoulder, and Bertie and I watched her hurry over to one of the ski instructors.
“I wonder what that’s about.” Bertie wagged her brows, and I smiled politely.
“I’m not sure. You know Oli.”
“Hmm… I sure do. I know all of you. You know…” Bertie paused as she looked around the room. “I was here when everyone here started at The Crown.”
“You ready to retire?”
“Maybe.” She winked before her eyes turned softer but in a way that was laced with concern. “Stan told me what happened.” My body locked. “Don’t do that. Don’t make that face. A strong breeze, and it will get stuck like that,” Bertie teased gently, leaning in. Her hand took mine. “You okay, honey?” I shrugged because I wasn’t sure what I was.
“I’m… I will be,” I finally answered, and Bertie nodded slowly.
“Of course, you will be. You’re made of strong stuff.”
“Thanks, Bertie. I should probably go get started in the laundry?—“
“You know… something funny happened the other day,” she cut me off, and I had a weird feeling she was going to bring up Carver.
“Oh?”
“Yeah… about a couple of days ago, Stan asked me to go to the offices. He wanted me to make sure the offices were tidy. You know, nothing heavy-duty because he worries like a mother hen, but he wanted me to clear out the trash bins, vacuum, that kind of thing. And you will never believe what I saw?”
“What?”
“Mr. Storm. Your Mr. Storm?—“
“He’s not mine, Bertie,” I too loudly hushed.
“Your Mr. Storm,” Bertie repeated with a Cheshire grin, “all dressed in one of his designer suits! Kneeled down, scrubbing his carpets. But really cleaning them. So much I think he might have even broken a sweat. I swear if I had that tik-toky thing everyone has on their phone, I could have gone famous?—“
“Viral,” I corrected
“That!” She snapped her fingers with joy. “I would have gone viral if I had filmed it. Imagine a video with that strong, strapping man, down on his knees, dressed like he just got off a photo shoot with those fancy clothes of his.” She wagged her brows salaciously. “Anyhow, I walked in, and it smelled terrible!” She made a funny face of disgust. “So bad I thought I was going to be sick.” I grimaced. That had been my mess he was cleaning up. A flashback of me hunching over and throwing up all over his shoes came to mind.
“He was?” I croaked.
“Yeah.” She nodded, then her eyes softened. “I offered to help, but he said no. Told me it was his mess to clean up,” she shared.
Something about the fact that Carver, Daddy, considered my mess his made something inside of me start to crack. My insides turned warm and fuzzy. Is that stupid of me? Probably, but I knew it meant something.
“He also ordered these the first day he saw you walking around cleaning the offices,” Stan chimed in, not surprising me in the least that he had been snooping in on our conversation.
“Stan—“ I started to groan. He had been on me to call him. To forgive and give Carver another chance.
“What? Just saying, kid, the guy has real feelings for you. He cares. A lot.”
“That’s not true.” I shook my head. “He ordered them because we needed?—“
“He ordered them for you. He told me himself that’s why he ordered them.” That was something Stan hadn’t shared yesterday. “That was before I threatened to bury him in the mountain if he hurt you again,” he shared proudly, and my eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets.
“Stan!” I exclaimed, and Bertie laughed.
“I’d help you.” She winked and turned her attention to me.
“Now, beautiful girl, I know if I say this, you might think it’s some old woman giving you unsolicited advice, and maybe it is. But…” Her weathered hand stroked the top of mine. “There is something to be said about a man who doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty and who doesn’t mind cleaning up messes. Trust me, Max. I know. I’ve seen a lot. Especially a man who can literally snap his fingers and have someone else take care of it. It means something, a lot, when that kind of man wants to do it himself.”
“Bertie,” I sighed.
“I know,” she sighed. “Matters of the heart are never easy, but then again, anything worthwhile usually takes time and understanding. He might have been grumpy or grouchy when I’d see him around, and I know a lot of the kids around here like to talk, but he was never disrespectful. Not to me, at least.” I liked that he wasn’t rude to Bertie.
“What about with the contractors?” I asked. Stan and Bertie both looked at one another, and Stan shook his head.
“O’Shea tried to screw him over. Knows what the Storms are worth and came up with some bullshit that would have cost the resort another thirty thousand to fix.”
“Wait, what do you mean?” I frowned, suddenly feeling protective over Carver.
“Bobby lied to Mr. Storm, honey. About something called a foundation alignment inside the new bid when Storm decided he wanted to get that building there almost done with. Bobby tried to be slick and make some extra money and padded the bid with fake work. There is no such thing as foundation alignments,” Bertie explained.
I knew Bobby, and it sounded like something he would do. He was great at what he did, or better said, his crews were, but he was known to take advantage of situations. Especially with someone new to town like the Storms.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice, almost familiar, sounded behind me, and hope bubbled up. When I turned around, the smile, the first genuine smile I’d had in a couple of days, disappeared.
“Hi.” The guy behind me smiled. I’d met him a couple of days ago when everything had blown up in my face, and because I had been distracted, I hadn’t really paid attention to the man. Carver’s brother stood there, his attention on me. He was close in build and height, maybe a little less muscle than his older brother, but his eyes were almost the same shade of blue as Carver’s
“Mr. Storm,” I muttered.
“Hey, Harry.” Stan grinned. “How can I help you, sir?“ Stan asked, but Harrison Storm’s gaze never wavered from mine.
“Would it be possible to speak with you in private for a moment, Miss Munoz?”
“Max. And of course,” I answered, standing up and following him down the hall and straight to the human resources office.
“Thank you for agreeing to speak with me,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.
“No problem,” I answered, standing as he took a seat at his desk.
“Please take a seat.” He pointed at the chair, and I frowned.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a shift to start?—“
“In an hour and a half.” He smiled gently. “Please?” He pointed at the seat again, and I sat down.
“Okay, what would you like to talk about?”
“I know I shouldn’t get involved.” I wanted to stop him from saying whatever he possibly could say, but he kept talking. “I’m HR here. And I really shouldn’t but…” He shook his head. “He’s my brother. My older brother. Do you have any siblings?”
“A sister.”
“Are you close?”
“Not really, no.” I gave a tight smile.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t… so, my point won’t make sense. See… Car’s the oldest. He’s been the one who’s watched over us. And I know that sounds stupid because of our age, but he had to take on that responsibility when we were younger. After our parents died, I swear I think Carver made it his mission in life to keep an eye on us, and to be honest, Grant and I didn’t make it easy,” he shared. “I think Carver was always secretly scared, terrified that if he didn’t hold us together, we would somehow fall apart.” He sighed.
“He mentioned something about that,” I mumbled, and his eyes crinkled at the edge.
“I’m sure he did. We’ve been a pain in his side for a long time, and when we bumped into each other...” Harrison winced.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Storm, I’m a little confused about what you wanted to?—“
“He misses you,” Harrison Storm blurted, and I stared at him, unable to blink. “He misses you a lot.”
“It’s been two days. I’m sure he fine.” He hadn’t even texted me. I knew my location was still shared with him, and he hadn’t stopped by when I was home.
“He’s a wreck, actually. And I feel a little guilty about the whole thing since I was the one who put my foot in my mouth and outed him.”
“Mr.—“
“You can call me Harrison or Harry.”
“Harris—“
“He misses you,” he interrupted again. It was none of his business, but I couldn’t help but feel for the guy. It was obvious they were close.
“I miss him, too,” I admitted, not sure why I would share this with someone I didn’t really know.
“I know he messed up, and I can only imagine the kind of mess he made for himself. For the life of me, as serious and boring as Carver can be, he really knows how to get in trouble.”
“He does?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
“Yeah! I mean, he wouldn’t admit it or anything, I’m sure, but in high school, he was known as a bad boy.”
“What?” My lips twitched, and he shook his head.
“Again, probably not something for me to tell. I just… I wanted to talk to you, to ask you to please reconsider.”
“Reconsider?”
“Giving Carver another chance.”
“Harrison, I don’t know what he’s said to you, but… he’s giving me time.”
“Time,” Harrison huffed. “Something we take for granted, am I right? Can I ask you something? Honestly?”
“Okay,” I answered cautiously.
“Do you think you could see yourself with him? Really see yourself with him?”
“Yes.” My heart answered for me, and my body and mind quietly nodded along.
“Then why waste time? Life’s sometimes…” He shrugged. “Too short. We waste time thinking we have a great deal of it left. We never know what can happen.”
“That’s a little… dark,” I called him out, and he gave me a somewhat sheepish look.
“I know. I’m working on it,” he muttered, and for some reason, Harrison Storm made me laugh.
“He loves you, Max. He’s never been this way about anyone. No one could have drawn him out of his office. The man was a workaholic through and through before you, Max. No one would have been able to get him to delegate or handle things. Not his family, not any other woman, but you. I’ve never believed in the whole finding the one and how it could change your life, but... watching Carver these last couple of weeks, even if he thought he was being sly, has me second-guessing what I believe. He genuinely cares, and I have never seen him like this with anyone. And I’ve known him my whole life.” It was sweet to hear his little brother talk about him that way.
“Why did you guys order new uniforms? And jackets?” I blurted, and he stared at me.
“I didn’t. I ordered the first polos. Carver ordered the new ones and the jackets on his own.”
“Why?”
“You really don’t know?” Harrison asked, and I shrugged. “He did it for you, Max,” he shared. Carver was looking out for me long before we got as deep as we did. I nodded, knowing all I wanted to do was run to him and tell him how I felt.
“Thank you.” I smiled.
“Did that help?”
“Help?” I asked, not sure what he was talking about with so much going on in my head.
“Make up your mind about what you’re going to do with my brother.”
“Oh.” What did I want to do with Carver? I had to bite away my own smile.
“I think so… yeah,” I admitted. I loved Carver. He had messed up, but we could get through this. We could get through anything as long as we were together.
“Good. Anything I can do to help?” he offered, and an idea popped into my head. Suddenly, I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders. I knew what I wanted to do. Who was I kidding? I’d always known; I just hadn’t had the guts to admit it to myself.
“Actually… there is.” I leaned forward and shared my idea. A sneaky smile spread over Harrison’s face.
“That’s not a bad idea. Tit for tat. I like it. Count me in!” he agreed all too easily.
Hopefully, my little plan wouldn’t backfire.