Chapter 24
Annalise
“We’ll arrive in Monte-Carlo on the first,” my mom says over the phone.
“Plane lands at four-fifty-five in the afternoon, and the driver is scheduled to pick the four of you up. I was just on the phone with the car service earlier this afternoon,” I reassure my mother.
She laughs.
“What?”
“Nothing. I was just saying it out loud for me to hear. I knew you would have all of the details down to the minute.”
I grin but don’t reply because there’s no need to go into detail with my mother about how I checked and rechecked my family’s travel schedule all of the way down to the minute. She knows.
“And I’m sure Chloe will wait until an hour before we leave to start packing. It’s funny how different you two are.”
No, Chloe tends to be less detail oriented than I am, especially when it comes to something that she doesn’t care that much about.
“She’s better at numbers and athletics,” I reply.
“You both have your unique talents. Just like all four of my babies.”
I snort. “We’re not babies.”
“You’ll always be my babies.”
I stifle my grin. “Speaking of babies, did Dad tell Travis that someone called me a bitch?” I ask my mom.
“Hang on,” Mom says.
I hear her call out to my dad who must be somewhere not too far from her, but his reply is muffled.
Mom’s laughing voice once again fills my ears. “He says damn straight he did and he won’t rest until he gets to the bottom of whoever called his baby girl a bitch.”
“Mom, you know he’s being insane, don’t you? No one called me a bitch. You were the person I was talking to when I said it. Haven’t you—”
“Of course I told him he’s being a lunatic and that not only would our daughter not stand for someone calling her out of her name, but she absolutely wouldn’t lie to us about it.”
I’m happy she knows that. Growing up, I was typically the more sensitive one out of my brothers and sister. I didn’t know until later on, but both of my parents feared for me the most when it came to worrying about how I’d be treated by other people.
“What did he say to that?”
“He told me he wasn’t so sure and that he believes you might be sparing this person out of fear over what he might do to them. He thinks you’re more afraid of getting him or your brothers into trouble than getting justice for whoever said it.”
I groan. “I love Daddy, but the older I get the more I suspect that man’s not wrapped too tight,” I say, using the euphemism my mom uses when she wants to call someone crazy.
Her laughter makes me grin. “I’m serious.”
“I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to figure it out.”
“Honestly, Mom. I think Dad and my uncles might be a little … what’s the word?”
“Possessive? Protective? Loving?”
“Deranged,” I say, making her laugh more. “I’ve heard rumors,” I mumble.
“From who?” I perk up at the sound of my father’s voice.
“Am I on speaker?”
“Yes,” my father says, obviously unashamed. “What rumors have you heard?”
“None. No rumors at all,” I reply. “And can you please stop going around asking people who called me a bitch? I told you no one did.”
There’s a brief pause. “I don’t know if I believe you.”
“I’m canceling your flight.”
“I’ll book my own,” he counters.
“I’ll figure that one out and cancel it as well.”
“You can try, sweetheart, but we know there’s nothing that can stop me once I’m determined. Just ask your mother.”
I hear the smile in his voice.
“You mean stalker,” I grumble, already knowing the story of how my father basically fell in love with my mom at first sight, but she rebuffed his advances numerous times over her reluctance to get involved with a professional athlete.
“If that’s the title you choose to give it, I’ll claim it happily. I haven’t had any complaints from your mother. Isn’t that right, precious?”
I make gagging noises when I hear what sounds like them kissing on the other end of the line. My parents aren’t shy about showing one another affection in front of us kids and never have been.
Despite my outward display of disgust, I conceal my smile and the happiness the sounds my mom’s laughter stir inside of me. My parents’ affection and love for one another have always created a sense of safety for me.
One that took me years to realize not every other child has.
It wasn’t until I went over to a friend's house in eighth grade for the first time that I saw how other parents interacted with one another. They were cold and almost robotic with one another.
Until then, I’d spent most of my time at home or at one of my cousin’s houses.
All of our parents have a deep, wild love for one another.
It’s not uncommon to see my dad or one of my uncles following their wives around the house like a lost puppy just to be close to her. Even after decades of marriage.
Without notice, the memories of my parents and family members fall away, replaced by memories of this afternoon. Max with his hands on either side of my head, leaning over me with that intensity in his gaze before he crushes his lips against mine. I had only one thought in my mind as we kissed.
More.
“What’s that?” My dad’s question startles me as much as the knock on my door.
My eyes shoot over to the clock on my wall.
It’s six o’clock on the dot and I have a feeling I know who’s on the opposite side of that knock.
“Someone’s at the door,” I say honestly, knowing if I lie I’ll pay for it with an obscene amount of ruminating thoughts later on. Not like I won’t have those already but by telling the truth, I can possibly save myself some head spinning.
“I have to go. Can’t wait to see you guys in a couple of weeks. Love you.”
Once my dad tells me he loves me too, I hang up right as another knock penetrates the silence of my apartment.
For some reason, I glance around, ensuring that nothing is out of place, and then run my hands down the length of my black leather skirt, straightening the non-existent wrinkles before opening the door.
Max stands there, filling up my doorway and looking like he was hand delivered to be my downfall. Especially, when those pink lips spread into a contented grin.
“I was starting to suspect you wouldn’t open up.”
“What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t answer right away because he’s too busy running his eyes over my body, pausing at the deep, plunging neckline of my emerald silk blouse.
I tell myself I didn’t choose this shirt to wear because I always appreciated my clavicles and neckline and loved shirts that allow me to show them off as my best features.
Nor do I admit to myself that it thrills me more than it should when Max doesn’t hide the way he appreciates the way my legs look in this skirt.
In the majority of my workouts, I spend an inordinate amount of time cursing Charles out in my head for pushing me so damn hard. But with Max looking at me like I’m the dessert he’s been waiting to taste all night, I can’t help but to contemplate giving Charles a raise.
“We have a date,” Max finally says, holding up a cloth tote bag full of groceries.
“I …” is all I manage to get out before he’s sliding past me into my apartment. One moment I was staring at him, and the next all I’m looking at is air. That and my across the hallway neighbor’s closed door.
After peeking my head out of my door, ensuring that no one saw Max walk into my apartment, I close it behind me. I tell myself the only reason I lock it is because of instincts, not because I plan for Max to stay long.
“We most certainly do not have a date.”
We spins away from the window view that looks out on the marina. “Our kiss this afternoon says we do.”
“I told you I’m working.”
He gives me another smoldering up and down appraisal. “It should be illegal for you to work in that.” His words come out as a growl.
In that moment, I thank whatever foresight I had that told me to wear a padded bra underneath this shirt. If not for that, I’m pretty certain Max would easily see how my nipples harden.
“What’s illegal is you barging into someone’s apartment without their permission,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “How do you know I wasn’t on a work call with Norm and Edwin?”
His nostrils flare upon hearing the name of his agent. I presume Edwin is his agent. He’s the one who was representing Max on today’s call with Liam Waltz and Randy. The pair are still interested in signing Travis and Max to represent their company.
“You spoke with Edwin?” he asks, something dangerous leaking through in his voice.
“He’s your agent, isn’t he?” I ask with more attitude than intended.
“Something like that,” he answers, evasively. “Conversation went well, I hope.”
I cock my head sideways. “He didn’t follow up with you afterwards?” The first thing I did after getting off the call with Liam and Norm was call Travis to explain the new updated terms of the contract they want to sign.
I start to tell Max about everything Liam and his partner proposed for the sponsorship deal but stop myself. My mind starts yelling at me that I’m disloyal for wanting to share something with Max that involves a business deal for my brother.
If I continue to go down this line of thinking it’s only a matter of time before the thoughts about my failure to secure the Luca Taylor deal come spiraling back. So, instead, I divert my attention to the bag in Max’s hand.
“Anyway, I’m sure Edwin will follow up with you.” I gesture toward the bag. “What’s that?”
He holds up the groceries where I can see the edges of a red and green pepper sticking out over the top.
“I figured you weren’t ready to go out for dinner, so I brought dinner to you.”
I narrow my eyes, allowing my brain to register what on Earth he’s talking about. Max tips his head toward the short hallway.
“Kitchen is that way, right?”
I’m still trying to make sense of all of this before he heads in that direction.
“Wait, you’re planning on cooking in my apartment?”