Chapter 14 Hollie
HOLLIE
Returning to work brings a comforting sense of normalcy that I cling to with both hands.
The Elden Hotel houses some of the most elite people in the state and in my previous years of playing music in the lobby, I would get distracted by how regally dressed all these people were.
The tips they left were just as obscene as their clothing.
This year’s different.
After the explosive meeting with my parents on Sunday after Maxim’s father tried to kill me, I focus on the music and only the music.
The violin rests comfortably in my hands while numbing cream prevents the hidden bruises around my throat from flaring up.
The bow rests loosely between my fingers and with my eyes closed, I play the next melody on the Christmas music list approved by the hotel manager.
Around me, golden lights twinkle on every single surface and to my left, a gigantic golden Christmas tree stands proudly, wrapped in elegant silver tinsel, baubles, and lights.
A little too much gold for my personal tastes, especially since the manager poured me into a floor-length golden ballgown to emphasize that I really am part of the furniture.
But the money is good and with music in my ears, nothing else matters.
I play my way through eighteen songs while appreciative guests drop tips into the snow globe basket near my stand.
Some stand nearby and compliment my music, and anyone who gets too close immediately gets on the radar of the two men Maxim has guarding me.
Stu and Toto.
Ironically, they blend in well in a place like this.
Money is clearly no object to Maxim, and the way he acts, I’d suspect a hotel as lavish as this is almost beneath him.
That extends to both my guards even as they lounge in the lobby completely undisturbed by security.
They watch me closely, but even they fade to the background as I play.
Behind me, tall windows draped in silver curtains are coated in fake snow and above me, projectors create the illusion of an angel sending stars down to greet me.
Song after song plays until my fingers throb and my shoulder aches, but they’re familiar, pleasant pains that I embrace as my last song draws to an end.
Sudden clapping catches my attention, so I scan the crowd as I lower my violin and catch sight of Tiffany, my boss.
A familiar, friendly face that immediately overwhelms me with the urge to run to her. Toto and Stu clock her a second after I do, but I reach her first and clasp her hands. “Tiffany!”
“Hollie, you’ve got some insane explaining to do,” she scolds as she pulls me in for a tight hug.
Her suit rumples but she hardly cares. “Not returning my calls? Ignoring my texts? Then you turn up here like nothing is wrong? Do you have any idea how badly I’ve been stressing that I’d have to rebook this gig and—oh, my God!
” Clutching my hand, she notices the wedding band and drags my fingers to her face. “What is this?”
“Excuse me.” Toto’s hand lands on Tiffany’s shoulder, but before he can pull her away, she turns to face him with a sharp glare over the top of her perfectly rectangular glasses.
“You'd better remove that hand unless you want to explain to the owner why all your fingers are broken and your membership has been revoked, young man!”
Toto gapes at her while Stu snorts just behind him.
“Guys, it’s fine. This is Tiffany, my agent.”
“You know them?” She looks back at me, visibly puzzled.
“Uhm… let me explain.” After shaking off the guards, I guide Tiffany to the golden couches in the lobby and we sit. “I got married.”
“I can see that!” She adjusts her glasses and winces as she keeps hold of my hand and observes the ring. “How cheap is this guy? I didn’t even know you were dating!”
“The ring is only temporary,” I say, though why I’m defending it, I have no idea. “And it was sort of a last… minute thing.”
“Oh, my Lord.” Tiffany would be clutching her pearls if she had any. “Hollie, what did you do?”
“I did nothing!”
“Are you in trouble?”
“No!”
“Do I need to call someone?”
She’s tempting me. She doesn’t know it, but each question coaxes at the truth I’m hiding deep down and it threatens to bubble over as her genuine concern washes over me.
“No,” I say hoarsely. “I’m fine. Everything is fine. I just… I met someone and fell in love. Everything felt—feels right, and it just… it happened.”
Her mouth drops open and she glances around. “Am I being pranked? Is this some kind of Christmas joke?”
“No!” Laughter rises within me. “I’m telling the truth.”
Tiffany peers at me, then she glances at Toto and Stu hovering nearby. “Is it one of them?”
“No, they just work for him.”
“Work for him?”
“Yeah, they’re like… he’s protective, so he has people keeping me safe.”
“From what, muggers?” Tiffany’s light laughter rings out at her joke. “There’s some disconnect here, honey. He’s rich enough for some bodyguards but not a decent ring?”
My thumb presses against the gold band. “It was a really fast wedding.”
“You’re telling me! I can’t believe you didn’t call. This is…” She shakes her head and leans into me, clutching my wrist. “Are you on drugs?”
I immediately shove her away. “No! I chose this. Trust me, if you met him, you’d—”
“Met who?” Maxim’s voice suddenly washes over me from behind like a warm blanket and my heart jumps.
I watch Tiffany’s face. She glances up once, then does a double-take and stares with wide eyes and parted lips. Her fingers flex against my wrist and she continues to stare without a word.
Facing Maxim, I force a smile. “Maxim, this is my agent, Tiffany. Tiffany, this is Maxim.” I meet her gaze. “My husband.”
I could have knocked Tiffany over with a feather.
To his credit, Maxim looks very handsome.
He stands in a black suit with a light blue silk shirt that’s open halfway so his chest tattoos are on display.
With one hand in his pocket, his suit sleeve is ruffled enough to show off a thick, gold watch.
His hair is neatly combed with a slight side part where a few strands curl down and kiss his forehead with every subtle movement.
Even his beard is trimmed neater than it was this morning.
All in all, he looks devilishly handsome and his smile is gentle while he holds out a hand to Tiffany.
“It’s lovely to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
That feels like a faint threat and a shiver chills my spine.
“Wow,” Tiffany gasps. “I–I mean you, too. Nice to meet you too.” She rises and shakes his hand. “You… I mean, Hollie, this is your husband?”
“Mhm.” Standing, I brush my hands down my dress to smooth out the skirt. “Since Friday.”
“Well, if you know, you know.” Tiffany laughs, suddenly changing her tune while shaking Maxim’s hand.
“Tiffany, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve come to take Hollie out to dinner. Am I interrupting?”
Tiffany waves her hand and laughs. “Not at all! Not at all. I just came to give Hollie this. Here, sweetie. Please call this number when you can. I got you another client.”
I accept her card with a smile. “Thanks.”
“Shall we?” Maxim’s hand falls away from Tiffany and his blue eyes lock onto mine while he cocks his elbow.
I have no choice but to accept. As my hand loops around his elbow, my heart tremors from something that isn’t fear this time. “Sure.”
“Have fun!” Tiffany calls with a wave. “Call me later!”
Maxim whisks me away to a quiet restaurant two blocks away.
The lighting here is dark and romantic as we sit at a table covered in a red tablecloth.
Four white candles burn between us on a black holder, a green Christmas tree hugs the corner of the room near the bar, and it’s swathed in red, blue, and gold Christmas decorations and tinsel.
A large bird sits atop the tree with sparkling gemstone eyes observing everyone.
Soft music plays, but I can’t pinpoint the musician, and the lighting is so low in the restaurant that anything beyond our table appears shrouded in darkness. The illusion of privacy is extreme.
Occasionally, a waiter appears to top up Maxim’s wine or my sparkling water, or to bring more plates of food, but other than that, we’re left alone.
I make it through three plates of utterly tiny dishes before I speak. “Is this how a place like this makes its money? I bet for the price of one of these tiny dishes I could get a full meal from a burger joint.”
“Would it taste as good?” Maxim asks as he eats his mysterious cube of meat, single rocket leaf, and swirl of sauce in one bite.
My eyes narrow. “You can’t be serious. You’re built like a truck and yet you’re eating meals that look like they were made for Thumbelina.”
“This place is an experience as much as it is a meal.”
“Do you hear how pretentious you sound?”
“Yes,” Maxim replies, much to my surprise. Then he chuckles. “But the wine is good and the chef is a friend, so I make appearances.”
My brow twitches. “You’re putting us through this for a friend?”
“Wouldn’t you do the same for yours?”
My lips part and my answer catches in my throat because yes, I would. I have several times. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Maxim picks up his wine glass. “You strike me as someone very loyal. I don’t think maybe is the answer.”
“I didn’t know you had friends is the most shocking part,” I remark. “I thought you just had people you ordered around. Or hurt.”
His eyes narrow. “That’s your impression of me?”
“Can you blame me?” I tear my gaze away from the alluring bulge of muscle on his arm that rises each time he lifts his glass. “After everything that’s happened these past six days?”
“It’s been an intense week,” he agrees. “How are you feeling?”
“Are you asking if I’m still thinking about telling the truth to the next person I meet?”
“No.” Maxim sighs as if my answer irritates him. “I’m asking how you are.”
“I’m fine.”
“Really?”
“Don’t pretend like you care.”