Twenty-Five
Annalise
I'd never admit it in this lifetime, but I really did need his help. Jared. Max. Whoever. And not only his actual help, but his easy reassurances. Because this was the biggest fucking project I'd ever worked on, by far, and I felt like I was drowning in nerves, fear, and a miles long to-do list.
If I had more than two days— two days —I wouldn't be freaking out like this. But two days?
My God, was this what hyperventilating felt like? What were you supposed to do? Breathe into a paper bag? Did I even have a paper bag anywhere?
And what the fuck was that weird noise coming from down the hall? No one was even in here anymore but me.
I hated working late alone. I'd only ever done it once before at my old job and found it incredibly creepy. That night before a big deadline I'd spent more time wondering what strange sounds were than doing any real work.
Maybe I'd be better off working at home. I'd just have to finish this one thing, and then I was out of here.
In the silence around me, the ding of the elevator sounded like a clap of thunder, and I stared in that direction. Who on earth was coming up here? The cleaning crew? It was way too early for them. So who the hell could it be?
A tall figure rounded the corner and came into view. Heaving a relieved sigh, a surge of comfort flooded through my body at the sight of Jared... er, Max. Max . I still couldn't believe it. Relief at seeing Max Sterling?
He grinned at me, and my heart did a little flutter.
Stop it, stupid heart .
"Fooled ya," he said, striding toward me, bags in hand.
I did my best to smother a smile. "Yeah. I guess you did. But if you think you can win me over with food, well, you're sorely mistaken."
"Who said any of this is for you?"
He was joking, right?
Laughing, he unpacked the food—pasta, bread, meatballs, salad, the works. "We need to carb up," he said. "Who knows how long we'll be here tonight."
God, I lov— scratch that. I had zero feelings for this man. Zero. It was simply a relief to have someone here with me tonight, and I was incredibly hungry. So of course, he was like the hero in a romance novel right now. Larger than life, caring, and thoughtful.
Biting into the steaming hot gnocchi covered in sauce and cheese, I couldn't help moaning, Max's eyes intent on my face.
"Baby, don't make that noise," he said.
Oh, fuck. In an instant, my mind went there . "Sorry."
The tension in the room ratcheted up in the space of a heartbeat, and it suddenly felt very warm.
"Uh, thanks for the food," I said, watching as he bit into a meatball.
"No problem. Can't work on an empty stomach."
"No, you really can't." I glanced at the bag on his desk, noticing the restaurant's name in silver letters on the side, one of the finest places in the city. "So I suppose you paid for this with a gift card?"
He threw his head back and laughed. "You really fell for that bullshit, didn't you?"
"Yeah, I guess I did, you jerk. And the rumpled, ill-fitting suit, the fucking mustache, the bad haircut." How could I have been so stupid? So easily fooled? "Is the mustache even real?"
He stroked the side of it. "It was at one point, and it was spectacular. But it got a bit complicated going back and forth between Max and Jared, so I had to shave it then wear this ridiculous fake one. I never planned on staying here this long."
"Then why did you?"
"Duh. Because I kind of started crushing on this cute co-worker. And she made me want to stay."
Fuck me. But that was so damn cute and made my chest squeeze. We exchanged a long look, the invisible thread that had been pulling us together stretched taut. For a beat, I wondered what it'd be like to actually be together as Max and Annalise. How would that work exactly?
Max broke the spell first, putting his plate down on his desk. "We should get to work," he said.
"Right. Right. Of course."
What was I thinking? I was forgetting my own stated desires about being alone and independent, that this thing between us could never be, that I needed to be all about work and proving myself.
"We have so much to do," I said, determined to focus on the task at hand, "it's unbelievable."
"Don't worry. We'll get it done. Even if we have to pull an all-nighter. Which we won't need. You've done a ton of work already, more than you probably think."
"I'm not so sure about that. We need to finalize cover mock-ups and chapter proposals, plus ghost writer suggestions, roll-out and press tour ideas, not to mention plan the whole presentation, write it up and lay it all out, and of course walk through it multiple times, iron out any kinks, plan for food, beverages, vibe, utensils, napk—"
Max held up a hand, interrupting my panicked stream of thought. "Wait, Annalise. Stop. Slow down. Let's take a breath. We'll get through this together. Make a list for what needs to get done tonight, and what can wait until tomorrow and early Friday. Okay?"
"Right." I nodded. "Okay."
I took that breath he suggested, and then another, and then the two of us put our heads together and got busy.
For a long time, we worked in sync, pausing only to inhale more food, and I found that Max was indeed correct. I really had already done most of the actual work. It was just a matter of putting it all together into one cohesive presentation and polishing it to the best of my ability, making it shine for Venus.
The biggest thing was the cover, or five covers rather, that we'd mocked up. We decided that tomorrow would be spent in design finalizing everything, because people truly did judge books by their covers, and that was probably the flashiest thing to show Venus, with the most potential for a truly wow moment.
And the other huge thing was the vibe, of which food was probably the most important. "I know," I said out of the blue. "I'll call my sister and see what miracles she can work with catering."
"Catering?" Max said. "You think we need catering?"
"Yes, Max. We need catering. You think we can serve Venus La Fleur little bags of chips and cookies from the breakroom?"
"No. Please. I'm not a fucking heathen. But I just assumed we'd order something from a restaurant."
I blinked at him. "Don't make me repeat the assume thing."
"I would never. Well, you do your catering thing, but I do happen to know some of Venus' favorite foods."
"You do?"
"Yes. It was all in the exhaustive report you made me do. Remember?"
"Oh, right." Whirling back to my computer, I looked up his report, quickly finding the list. "Wonderful. This is super helpful. I'll be sure to pass this on to the caterers ."
Max laughed, and I had to admit it was actually quite refreshing to have the truth be out now, to not have to pretend anymore, to be even more myself.
"I also know her favorite color," he boasted.
"Which is...?"
"Purple."
"Okay. So what do we do with that?"
"Why purple everything. Purple flowers. Purple plates. Purple napkins. A neon purple sign on the side of the building that says, 'Welcome, Venus!'"
I couldn't help laughing, not able to take my eyes off him. Damn him. How could he always make me laugh so easily? No one I'd ever met before was capable of doing that. Only him.
"All right. I think it's time to wrap things up for the night," I said, needing some space away from him.
"Oh? Am I getting hard to resist again?"
"What? No. Not at all."
"So I wasn't helpful tonight?"
"No. You were. And I appreciate that. I really do."
"But..."
"But this doesn't change anything, you know, you're still my mortal work enemy."
He busted out laughing. "I'm your mortal work enemy ?"
"Yes, absolutely you are."
"Then why did you want me to stay and help you tonight?"
"You know that old phrase. Keep your friends close and your... work enemy closer."
He flashed me that easy grin of his. "So you're still pissed at me for being Max Sterling, huh? You know we're kind of even, babe. We both did the same exact thing to each other. We both lied about who we really were. So why are you still mad at me for it?"
"It wasn't exactly the same. You didn't despise the real me, like I despised Max Sterling. And knowing the depth of my loathing, you still went forward with deceiving me."
"I still don't really understand why you hate me so much, or hopefully hated, as in past tense. All that venom just because I ignored you a little? There has to be more to the story than that."
How could he so easily perceive that? The way he saw right through me and my defenses was downright unnerving.
"Aha," he said, pouncing on my awkward pause. "I knew there was more to it. So what was it I did that was so awful that you've secretly been praying for my demise? Did I take the last canapé at a cocktail party right as you were reaching for it?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "No."
"Did I wear the same sequin sparkly outfit as you at the big winter gala?"
"No. Come on. We really need to get going."
"Oh, you think you're just going to escape this conversation, do you?"
"No. But we should get a good night of sleep while we still can."
His gaze sharpened on me. "Wait. I know. I know exactly what it was."
A sick feeling spread throughout my abdomen because this man in front of me was pretty damn smart. Too smart sometimes. "It was nothing. Now let's go."
I turned to clear my desk off and started packing my bag, intent on ignoring him. But did Max take the hint? Of course not. He was like a dog with a damn bone.
"You flirted with me," he said triumphantly. "That's totally it. You flirted with me, and I didn't respond most likely, because I'm totally clueless about when a woman might be flirting with me, unless it's completely obvious, like a naked woman jumping up and down with a boombox in her hands."
"What?" I gasped, giving him a glance despite myself. "What are you even talking about?"
"It's happened."
"No, it didn't."
"Yes, it did. Just ask my grandma. She saw it, to my absolute mortification."
"Please tell me you turned the jumping naked woman down."
"Of course I did. But that's not the point. The point is... did you flirt with me? And then, I didn't even recognize you the next time I saw you?"
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop my face from flushing bright red. "No comment."
"So that's it. I fucking knew it. The great Annalise Stratton took a hit to her pride."
There was a book sitting on the empty desk on the other side of me, a book that had been sitting there for days with an eye-catching cover. Resisting the urge to throw it at him, I instead grabbed it and thrust it into his hands.
"The Art of Not Being a Dick," he read the title out loud before laughing his ass off.
"Maybe read it tonight and see if you can learn anything," I suggested.
And with that, I grabbed my bag and headed for the elevator. But the jerk caught up to me as I waited. Why did the elevators take so long at night? Hardly anyone was even here anymore.
"So how did you flirt with me anyway?" Max asked.
"I don't remember. And I didn't flirt with you," I added, even though I had. And I hardly ever did that. It was actually the only time I could remember ever doing so.
"I'd give anything to know."
"All I did was say that I liked the food," I lied. It'd been a bit more than that. "We happened to be standing next to each other at the bar."
"So you do remember."
Shit. "That's all I remember."
He laughed. "You're such a liar."
"I'm not a liar." God, this conversation had turned incredibly juvenile.
The elevator arrived, and I stepped in, hitting the close door button repeatedly, wishing I could close Max out. But no such luck of course.
We stood side by side, facing forward, Max staring at me in the shiny reflection of the closed door, a cocky grin covering his stupid face.
"So the Annalise Stratton actually flirted with me. Damn."
"I'm not sure why it's a big deal. People flirt with people all the fucking time."
"It is a big deal. The absolute biggest deal."
"Stop."
It was all the more ridiculous because I knew for a fact that Max Sterling was flirted with pretty much constantly at events. Tall, handsome, rich. He could have his pick of any woman he wanted.
That was part of the reason it had stung so much because, usually, I had way more pride than that. Whatever had possessed me to lower myself that night? And now it was even worse because he knew. Great. Just fucking great.
"I wish to God I could remember," he said quietly, almost to himself.
"Well, it's no wonder you can't, not with all the women fawning all over you at any event you deign to attend."
He turned to me, and I felt his eyes bore into the side of my face. "Why, Annalise, are you jealous?"
"God, no," I scoffed, still not looking at him, my eyes on the lighted numbers above the door counting down the floors.
I most certainly was not jealous. Not in the slightest. And I'd never been jealous of his beautiful fiancée either, although when they'd been together, I hadn't seen very much of them out and about.
Three, two, one. Thank fuck.
"Damn," he muttered as the doors opened. "I was kind of hoping we'd get stuck again."
Very professionally, I thanked him for helping me tonight, thanked him for dinner, and then I was on my way, exiting the building and catching a cab before he could try to talk me into riding with him or anything else.
"Good night, Dee ," he said, shutting the door behind me. "Sleep tight ."
Why did that sound so dirty? What a dick, leaving me with that. He was a cute dick. But still.