Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
By the time Lana woke up on her couch, Max had already made himself at home in the kitchen. She padded in, looking groggy.
He nodded at the coffee maker. “Just finished brewing.”
“I figured. The smell woke me up. I didn’t think you’d still be here.”
He hadn’t really meant to stay. But he wanted to make sure Lana was all right.
Actually, he’d wanted to lift her up and carry her to her bedroom so she’d be more comfortable, but he’d thought that might be too forward, considering their history.
And then he’d fallen asleep right beside her on the couch.
They were friends now, and he was glad for that. Her acceptance of his overture made him happier than he’d anticipated. But they were still trying to navigate this new closeness, and he didn’t want to mess it up before it even got started.
Not that anything was necessarily “getting started.” That wasn’t the way people usually talked about friends, right?
And they definitely didn’t sneak glances at their friend’s ass as she poured her coffee, as he was doing now.
He sprinkled cinnamon into a dish of softened butter. “I wanted to make pancakes. But you didn’t have eggs. Or flour. Or sugar. So, I had to make do.”
“Pancakes, Max? Really?”
Okay, so the last time he’d made pancakes for her, they’d fucked the night before. And Lana clearly didn’t want any reminders of that.
But who didn’t like pancakes?
Max spread cinnamon-butter onto a piece of toast and handed it to her. It was the best he could come up with, given her pathetic supplies. He’d have to send over a grocery delivery later.
“Thank you for staying with me last night,” she said.
“You’re welcome. Any time. I used your mouthwash, by the way. Hope that’s cool.”
She bit into the toast. “Is that a veiled request that I brush my teeth?”
He laughed. “I was trying to be subtle about it.” Actually, she smelled great. Like lilacs and fresh-cut grass and sunshine. Like Lana. His cock stirred, ever hopeful.
Not happening, buddy. You’ve been there, done that.
The rule of three was there for her protection, more than his.
Her friendship would have to be enough. And it would be.
He was thrilled to be with her right now, cooking and sharing jokes.
He was honored that she’d finally opened up to him again, even though he hated the circumstances that had led to this moment.
“Sylvie’s working on that trace. Do you want me to drive you to the police station?”
She set the toast down, dusting off her fingers. “Nah, I’ve got it. In fact, I should check my messages. Usually, I’m at work by now. I’m surprised how long I slept.”
Usually, Max was at the office by now, too. But he was in no hurry to get going. He’d been texting with his team to make sure they were having a productive morning. Though some more texts had come in, and he hadn’t had the time—or inclination—to check them yet.
Lana grabbed her phone from her bedroom and rejoined him in the kitchen. “Shit. The judge issued her ruling.”
“Is it bad?”
“I’m opening it.”
She dropped onto the couch, and he sat beside her. Lana’s knee bounced up and down, so he set his hand on top of it.
She exhaled. “Vaughn ruled in our favor. Thank god. I figured she would, but sometimes judges do crazy things, you know?”
“Can I see?”
Lana tipped the screen so he could read the ruling.
Ms. Marchetti’s prior relationship with Mr. Bennett does not suggest improper bias alone, and the defense does not present any convincing evidence to the contrary.
The court makes no findings as to whether a current intimate relationship between a prosecutor and an investigative witness would be grounds for defendant’s requested relief.
In any case, the witness disclaimed any such current relationship with Ms. Marchetti.
It was strange to see someone writing about their “prior relationship” in such impersonal terms. Especially when he and Lana hadn’t spoken about it in ten years and could barely even discuss the subject now. But here it was in a public court filing.
He wasn’t embarrassed. But he never would’ve made their private business public. He respected her far more than that.
“So, this is a fancy way of saying Wayfair’s arguments were bullshit?” Max asked.
“Pretty much. The judge decided to be wishy-washy about it, instead of just outright saying that his motion was frivolous. It’s like she doesn’t want to make him look bad. Wish she could extend me the same courtesy, instead of suggesting that it was a close call.”
Max squeezed her shoulder. Friends touched. It was fine, wasn’t it? Basically innocent. “But you won. Congrats.”
“Now I need to get back to trial prep. I’ve lost two days to this nonsense, and I—” Her phone rang in her hands. “It’s Wayfair.”
She answered, standing up. Max got up with her, wanting to keep her close while she talked to that sleazy asswipe.
“I guess you’ve won this round,” the lawyer said, speaking loudly enough that Max could hear him through Lana’s phone.
“But rest assured, I’m not going to stay quiet about your connections to Max Bennett.
When I’m finished, it won’t even matter if you win the case against my client.
All of Southern California is going to know that you’re a corrupt prosecutor who can’t keep her legs closed. ”
Lana’s face was turning crimson. She didn’t even seem to be breathing.
Max’s fingers twitched. Don’t do it, he thought. Leave it be. But he couldn’t stop himself. He snatched the phone out of her hands.
“Wayfair, you piece of shit. Listen closely. If you ever speak to Lana that way again, I’m going to come down to your office, rip out your tongue, and shove it up your ass. I doubt that Judge Vaughn will even notice the difference.”
Lana’s eyes bulged. She grabbed the phone back and held it to her ear, walking across the room. “Paxton, I apologize. Please disregard that because it didn’t come from me. No, I’m not. I’ll speak to you later. Yes. About the upcoming trial, nothing else. I need to get back to work. Fine.”
She dropped the phone to her side, her eyelids sinking closed. “Max, what the hell is wrong with you?”
A lot of things? “I’m sorry, I know you can handle him yourself. But I couldn’t stand here and let him talk to you like that.”
“I have trouble keeping my temper with Wayfair too, but threatening him? And you brought the judge into it? I cannot believe you. We’ll be lucky if he doesn’t file a new motion. He was probably recording every word!”
Max made a skeptical face. “Even if he did, he’s not going to tell anybody. He won’t want anyone to know what he said to you. And I’ll bet he’s ready to piss himself right now, since he knows that I heard him. A coward like that would only say those things to a woman on her own.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she slowly turned to face him. “So, you don’t actually think I can handle it. I called you last night, so I must need a big strong man around to scare away every bad guy. Because Lord knows I can’t do it myself. Right?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. He’d really done it now. “That’s not what I meant. It came out wrong.”
“I’m pretty sure you said exactly what you intended, since you usually do. I’d like you to leave now. I have a lot of work to do, plus licking Wayfair’s boots so that he’ll hopefully forget about this.”
“Lana—”
“No. I don’t want you here, Max. I don’t want your help. Just leave.”
She stormed out of the room and slammed her bedroom door. So much for the progress they’d made.
But she’d been completely clear about her wishes, and Max had never forced his presence on a woman when it wasn’t welcome. He wasn’t about to start now.
He grabbed his things, requested a rideshare on his phone, and left.
Max stalked across the Bennett Security workroom, ignoring the curious glances of his employees.
“Boss,” Sylvie said, hurrying after him. “I need you to—”
“Not now.” He couldn’t deal with anyone else right now. Otherwise, he was going to yell, and none of his employees deserved that. He was really only mad at himself.
Max went into his office and changed the setting on his glass walls so that they frosted over.
He’d worked hard to plan out this office and loved the design.
When the walls were clear, he could look out over his team below.
Not in an arrogant, controlling way, though plenty of other people probably thought so.
He cared about his team, and he wanted to watch out for them. Do right by them. So that they would work hard for him in exchange because he had earned their loyalty. Maybe even their friendship.
But at this moment, he didn’t see why anyone should trust him as far as that.
How could he have been so impulsive? Usually, he limited his bad decisions to jumping into bed with women he hardly knew, and even then, he mitigated the damage by laying down his rules beforehand.
But when it came to Lana, he couldn’t think straight.
He paced across his office, trying to force his thoughts to the present. To the work he had to do. He’d already been neglecting his schedule that morning.
But it was no use. His focus was completely shot. He was too riled up and full of chaotic energy.
He grabbed the gym bag that he always had ready and jogged back downstairs to the elevator. He stepped inside and hit the button for the lower level. The doors slid closed.
Nobody else was in the gym, and he was glad. He wrapped his knuckles and hit the punching bag again and again, until his body was aching and his anger was spent.
Max slumped onto a bench, bathed in sweat, sucking down water from a squirt bottle.
Only then did he notice that he was no longer alone. Sylvie stood against the wall, leaning her shoulder into the cinderblock.
“You mind if I ask what that was about?”
“I do mind, actually.” He squirted water onto his head. Droplets trickled down over his face.
“I get that you want to be alone right now, boss. But I thought you should know that you missed two interviews this morning. Interviews that you had me schedule yesterday at the last minute. Of course, I couldn’t blame it on you.
I had to act like I’d screwed up your schedule.
It’s too bad because I think they were really great candidates.
But I came off looking like a dumbass, so I’m not sure if they’ll want to come back for a second try.
Forget the fact that I’m not your assistant, and that’s one of the positions we need to fill. ”
He groaned, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry, Sylvie. I put too much on you because I trust you, but you shouldn’t have to cover for me. It was a rough night.”
Which wasn’t even true. It was a perfectly fine night, setting aside the fact that some sicko was bothering Lana. But he wasn’t about to pin this on her.
“I know you were with Lana. Is everything okay with her?”
“She’s safe.” And royally pissed.
“Thank goodness. I haven’t made much progress on that new trace yet.”
“Of course, you haven’t. Because I’ve just been making your job harder. I promise, I will call those candidates myself and apologize. I’ll make sure they know it wasn’t you.”
Sylvie came over and sat on the bench beside him. Barrettes pinned back her short hair, and she wore her trademark all-black, her short sleeves showing off her tattoos. She pushed her pink glasses up onto her nose.
“I don’t mean to pry. But if I don’t, who will? So, I’m just going to put this out there. Maybe you need a day off.”
He grimaced. “I don’t need a day off. I don’t take days off.”
“But I gotta be honest, boss. People who don’t take days off get burned out. And you kind of seem, no offense, like a guy who’s burned out.”
He got up and grabbed a towel to wipe himself off, dismissing her words out of hand. Max had never been burned out in his life. Maybe burned up. Over his parents’ failings, his own guilt over leaving Aurora in another family’s care. Regrets about Lana.
But not burned out when it came to work. Not even when he used to be a special operator, with all the horrible shit that he saw back then.
“Even if I was, we’re shorthanded. I can’t afford to take a day off.”
Sylvie got up, brushing off her jeans. “Max, I don’t think the rest of us can afford what might happen if you don’t.”
“That sounds dramatic. I’ll get myself in order. Just let me grab a shower, and I’ll be back to work.”
But Sylvie wasn’t having it. Even though the petite woman had to look up to meet his eyes, he felt like she towered over him.
“This place can barely function without you. That’s true, and we all know it.
But if you don’t let us even try, then we won’t have the chance to learn.
And someday, you won’t be here. You’ll be sick or injured, god forbid, or out of commission for some other unforeseeable reason.
Do I hope it doesn’t happen? Of course. But at least give us the chance to get ready.
If you don’t, it’s not because you’re devoted, or a workaholic, or because you’re a great boss. It’s because of your ego.”
Damn. Her words were harsh. She was exactly right.
But this was who he was. Max didn’t know how to be anything different.