Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Carissa nervously tapped her index finger on the steering wheel. She was having dinner with the Imaginavigation Enterprises CEO in DC that evening. It wasn’t her official pitch yet, but he wanted a preview before she presented to the board the following week. Although it seemed odd, she assumed that was how things worked in the corporate world and decided to go with it.
Which was why she found herself driving to the city on Wednesday evening. Traffic was light since rush-hour commuters were heading in the opposite direction. She hoped parking would be cheaper outside of office hours as well.
When she arrived at the same parking garage as before, she took her time getting out of the car. She’d left earlier than needed, hoping driving would distract her from thoughts about Max. Ever since he’d asked her to dinner, she’d been unable to get him off her mind.
“Buck up, Carissa,” she told herself. “Max doesn’t matter right now. This meeting could change the course of the rest of your life. Stay focused.”
The words sounded empty, but she pretended to believe them. As she climbed out of her car, she straightened her spine and tried to look more confident than she felt.
The restaurant was rather run-down, especially compared to the place they had met for lunch previously. It had a small storefront she almost walked by, and when she entered, she was directed to a dark set of stairs into the basement below. The space was small, with only a few high-top tables and a bar along the length of one bright-green wall. The other walls sported similar bright colors—orange, yellow, and pink.
Jacob waited for her at the bar. His tie was loosened, and he appeared to have been sitting there for some time. Steeling herself for more condescension, she took a deep breath and marched over to him.
“Mr. Mikelson,” she said.
As he glanced at her with a flushed face and bloodshot eyes, he swayed precariously on his stool. “Carissa, you made it. Please, call me Jacob.” His words were slightly slurred.
I’d rather call you a cab. How were they supposed to have a meeting with him in that state? Would he even remember her pitch?
“Is this a bad time?” she asked, choosing her words carefully.
“Of course not.” He gestured to the stool beside him. “Please have a seat.”
“Oh, I thought we were having dinner.”
After lifting his glass, he toasted her before draining it. “We are, but eating at the bar is less formal.” He signaled to the bartender for a refill. “Plus the service is faster.”
Stifling a sigh, she hoisted herself onto the stool and shifted uncomfortably. That wasn’t at all what she’d had in mind for that night. Without another word, she picked up a menu and resigned herself to what was sure to be a miserable dinner.
But she’d barely even opened the menu before he snatched it from her hands. “You don’t need that. Let me order for you.” When the bartender arrived, Jacob continued, “I’ll have a medium-rare steak, the most expensive one you’ve got, and she’ll have a salad.” A smirk crossed his face as he glanced at her. “Water again as well, or did you want to be more adventurous?”
Swallowing a retort, she forced a smile. “Water is fine.”
“Unsurprising,” he muttered. Then he shook his glass at the bartender. “And keep these coming.”
“About my presentation,” she began, hoping to turn the evening around. “I brought my tablet to show you my slides and to go over my ideas at a high level. I wasn’t sure if?—”
He waved his hand. “No shop talk.”
Frowning, she stared at him. “I thought you asked for this dinner because you wanted me to go over my presentation before I meet with the board.”
“Wow, you really bought that.”
To her horror, he laughed.
“I just wanted to see you again.”
Her heart pounded, and her palms grew sweaty. “Why? Aren’t you married?”
“I am, but my wife and I have an… agreement.” He gave her a once-over.
Repulsed, she leaned away from him. Is your wife actually aware of this agreement, or is it all in your head? She pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t say anything she might regret, a courtesy she wished Jacob would bestow on her as well.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Mikelson, but I’m not looking to date a married man.”
“Perfect.” His smirk slipped into a sneer. “Because I’m not looking to date either.”
“Then what?—”
“Oh, come on, Carissa,” he slurred, sliding an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t play coy. You were flirting with me throughout our entire last meeting.”
She blinked rapidly and pulled away. Was he serious? “I was being polite and professional. I’m sorry if my behavior came across as anything else, but I assure you that wasn’t my intention.”
Thankfully, she was saved from having to hear his response by the bartender returning with her water and another glass of whatever alcohol Jacob had ordered. In the few seconds it took for the bartender to set down her drink, she debated her options. She could stay there and try to redirect the evening to her proposal, or she could leave and kiss the chance of a lifetime goodbye.
“Excuse me,” she said before hurrying off to the ladies’ room.
When she got there, she stood in front of the sink and stared at the mirror. She’d been on her share of bad dates before finding Chuck. Back then, she would have suffered through the experience, but she wasn’t young and naive anymore. And besides, it wasn’t a date. It was supposed to be a business meeting.
The door opened behind her, and a black-haired woman wearing a uniform in bright colors similar to those of the restaurant entered. Carissa dropped her gaze, but to her surprise, the woman walked right up to her.
“Excuse me, ma’am. The bartender sent me in here. That guy you’re with was thrown out.”
Carissa spun around, her mouth falling open. “He what ?”
The woman shrugged. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but I heard shouting, and then two off-duty cops dragged him outside.” She glanced toward the door then back at Carissa. “If you want to catch him, he probably hasn’t gone far, but Ricky, our bartender, got the feeling you weren’t entirely comfortable with him.”
“I wasn’t.” Carissa exhaled heavily, leaning against the counter for support.
“In that case, it’s probably safe for you to leave.” The woman searched her face. “Do you need me to call you a cab?”
“No. I drove myself into the city, and I haven’t been drinking.” Carissa forced a smile. “But thank you.”
After the waitress left, Carissa splashed cold water on her face and took several deep breaths. She had no idea what the evening’s turn of events would do to her relationship with Jacob’s corporation—or her career.
When Carissa woke up the next morning, she groaned. She’d hoped last night had been a bad dream. Jacob hadn’t contacted her since he’d been kicked out of the restaurant, and she’d waited a half hour before leaving just in case he was lurking, hoping to catch her. By the time she left, there was no sign of him, and she drove home without incident.
Thankfully, she didn’t have any client meetings until that evening, and she relished the time to recover from her experience. She couldn’t explain why she was shaken by Jacob’s behavior. He’d shown how condescending he was at that first lunch, and he probably figured he was doing her a favor by propositioning her like that. Still, it’d been a long time since a man had behaved that way toward her. Even Max, with his grumpy antics during Steven’s wedding planning, had never acted inappropriately.
After dragging herself out of bed, she went through her usual morning routine and decided to take a trip to Bea’s. It might do her some good to be in a familiar place, surrounded by other people.
When she entered the diner, she caught sight of Max in a booth toward the back of the restaurant. Her first instinct was to avoid him. While Max and Jacob were nothing alike, she wasn’t sure she could stomach sitting in close proximity to another man right then. But then he saw her, and the way his face lit up touched her heart.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said as she sat down. “What’ll you have?”
“Coffee, black,” she said. Like my mood.
Max raised his eyebrows and signaled for the server. Once they were alone again, he leaned back and assessed her. “Are you okay?”
“I will be.” A moment later, the server returned with her coffee, and she took a sip, savoring the bitterness.
“I’m actually glad I ran into you,” Max said when she didn’t elaborate. “I wanted to talk to you about the flowers for Lanie’s wedding.”
Where did that come from? Frowning, she folded her arms on the table. “What about them?”
“Lanie wants silk flowers, but she says you told her they’re tacky.”
Carissa stared at him blankly. “And? I meant what I said.”
His eyes narrowed, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “But it’s what she wants.”
“I understand, but?—”
“No ‘buts.’ If that’s what Lanie wants, then that’s what she gets. Besides, they’re on a budget.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re not supposed to be meddling in Lanie’s wedding anymore.”
His face flushed, which told her everything she needed to know. “She was upset last night and told me all about it. I had planned to join her the next time she met with you, but since you’re here, I figured I’d bring it up now.”
This man can’t help himself. Taking a deep breath, Carissa wrapped her hands around her mug. “I’m familiar with the wedding budget, and I’ve given Lanie several suggestions on how to save on the flowers.”
“And I assume none of them included silk substitutes?”
“No,” she admitted. “They did not.” He opened his mouth to respond, but she held up a hand. “Look, I appreciate Lanie’s concerns, but she’s not my first bride with a small floral budget. I’ve suggested cheaper versions of the flowers she wants in her bouquet.”
“Like what?”
Pursing her lips, she studied him. Would he understand the different types of flowers if she described them? Somehow, he didn’t strike her as the type, but since he’d asked, she couldn’t see any way around it.
“Gardenias are much like roses and smell just as good.” She began ticking off the rose alternatives she’d used in the past. “Camellias are so similar, you almost can’t tell the difference, and like roses, they come in many different colors. Ranunculus would work as well.”
As his eyes began to glaze over, she gave up trying to explain. Hopefully, he would realize he was out of his element and let it go. The last thing she wanted to do was go back to the days of fighting with Max over his children’s weddings.
“So, let me get this straight. You’re willing to use some cheap imitation flower in her bouquet but not an exact replica that happens to be fake?”
She bristled at his characterization. “First of all, they are less expensive, yes, but I would hardly call them ‘cheap.’ And secondly, have you seen the fake flowers they sell at craft stores? They don’t hold a candle to any real flower, regardless of whether it’s a rose.”
“But Lanie isn’t planning on buying flowers at a local craft store. She’s ordering them special online.”
“Which is more expensive than a craft store,” Carissa pointed out.
He frowned. “Is it more expensive to buy silk flowers online than real flowers from a florist?”
“Again, it depends on the flower. Roses would likely be more expensive from a florist, but the less expensive alternatives I?—”
“Then you’ve proved my point,” he cut in.
Heat rose up her neck, and she glared at him. “Why do you care so much?”
His mouth turned down. “I’m trying to rebuild my relationship with Lanie. If this matters to her, it matters to me.”
Of course. With a sigh, she tried seeing things from his eyes. When Lanie had told Carissa she wanted silk flowers, she’d said she wanted something she could keep forever. If she’d told her father the same thing, Carissa could understand why he was fighting for her.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She took a sip of coffee. “However, there would still be an added cost to have a florist design the silk flowers, just like there would be if they designed real ones.”
“What if we did them ourselves? Didn’t Rose and Steven do that?”
With Lanie’s help. Thankfully, they’d put together the bouquets and boutonnieres before Steven’s accident. There wouldn’t have been time otherwise.
“They did, but they also had more time to work with than Lanie does.”
“What if we all pitched in to help?” Max’s voice held a note of pleading.
Wow, he really would do anything for her. A strange feeling of longing welled up in Carissa’s chest, and she wondered if that willingness to help applied to everyone he loved. Before that train of thought could derail her, she pushed it out of her mind.
“Are you sure you have time for it? You’re already planning on baking cookies for favors.”
Max squared his shoulders. “We’ll make it work.”
Stifling another sigh, she nodded in defeat. “Fine. I’ll make the arrangements to get the flowers and assist with making the bouquets. I’ll also talk to Lanie about canceling our meeting with the florist.”
The slow smile that came over his face took her breath away. Despite the rocky start to their conversation, she was happy to have run into him. Something about him seemed to make all her cares disappear.
“How was your meeting last night?” he asked, and just like that, the night before came back to her in a blinding flash.
She grimaced. “Not great.”
His smile faded, and his eyebrows pulled together as if he were concerned. “What happened?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she counted down from ten to calm the anger that began to rage inside her belly. It wasn’t the time or the place to have that conversation. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to talk about what happened with anyone, least of all Max.
“Hey,” he said, and when she opened her eyes, he was standing. After tossing a few dollars on the table, he held out his hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”
She allowed him to lead her out of the restaurant and down the street. Already, the leaves on the tops of the trees had turned bright colors. Reds, oranges, and yellows dotted the otherwise green trees towering over Main Street. A slight breeze brought enough of a chill to remind them autumn had arrived.
Normally, the change of the seasons brought her peace, but instead, it was another reminder of how much her own life hadn’t changed. In the five years since her husband had died, she’d lived each day pretty much the same. Wedding planning for several hours, updating her business profile, and grabbing snacks from the fridge. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cooked a decent meal.
Expanding her business would change all of that, but after last night, it felt like a pipe dream. While she could explore other avenues to break into corporate event planning, the idea of canceling her pitch meeting to the board hurt her heart. She’d worked day and night on her proposal, and she was confident in her ideas. To tuck her tail between her legs and admit defeat was too much to bear. She wasn’t sure where she would find the energy to start over from scratch. Her husband’s name had gotten her the meeting with Imaginavigation Enterprises in the first place. Unfortunately, his contact there had since retired, which was why she was stuck dealing with Jacob.
Max took her hand and settled it in the crook of his arm, drawing her back to the present. They strolled toward Nate’s mechanic shop, taking in the sights and sounds of downtown Cedar Haven. Part of her wondered if that was a smart move, walking arm and arm in public like they were, but then she decided she didn’t care. The pressure of his arm around her hand helped to center her and made last night feel like a dream… or a nightmare.
But Max, seeming to read her mind, took her to a small street that led to a quiet park. A few children ran and laughed around a playground, but he led her toward a set of picnic tables where they could be alone. When they reached them, he sat on one of the table benches, facing the playground. She settled beside him with a contented sigh and rested her forearms on the table.
“So, do you want to talk about it?” He nudged her with his shoulder.
“No,” she whispered, but that wasn’t true. She needed to get it out before it could fester, and she could use some advice on what to do.
“Okay, then.” His response was simple, so Max , that a laugh bubbled up in her throat.
“I don’t want to talk about it, but I need to.”
He didn’t say anything, clearly letting her take her time. It was weird to think how much his stoicism used to frustrate her. At that moment, she found it comforting.
“The CEO was already drunk when I arrived,” she began. “And things went downhill from there.”
In painstaking detail, she relived the night before. Max kept silent, but his muscles grew tenser the more she said. When she finished, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, surprised by how much lighter she felt. She hadn’t realized how the events had been weighing on her.
“What a jerk.” The phrase was said in a way that was meant to be offhand, but Carissa could hear the edge in his voice. “Someone needs to teach him some manners.”
“It’s a bit late for that.” Impulsively, she leaned against Max, relishing his warmth and strength.
“Are you still planning to pitch his company?”
She picked at her fingernails as she debated her response. “I don’t know. I mean, on the one hand, I feel like I shouldn’t. The last thing I need is to work with some cheating, entitled creep.”
“And on the other hand?” His voice sounded strained, like he was holding something back.
Lifting her head, she gazed up at him. His jaw was clenched, and he stared straight ahead.
“Hey.” She squeezed his arm. “I’m okay now.”
A flush crept over his face as his eyes narrowed. “Yes, now. ” Shaking his head, he finally met her gaze, and his dark eyes burned with barely controlled fury. “But if you hadn’t been in a public place, if he hadn’t been thrown out of the bar…” His hands clenched into fists. “He better hope I never meet him.”
Max’s anger surprised her. Sure, he was protective of his children and their desires. But his reaction then, like he wanted to protect her … Well, it was new and different and surprisingly attractive.
She wasn’t usually into the overly protective type of guy. Her late husband had always respected her ability to stick up for herself. But she couldn’t deny there were times she’d wished he would step up for her. Like when the father of the bride or even a groomsman would get a little rowdy and she’d have to put them in their place. Although Chuck would listen to her rant about the experience and took care to make sure she was okay, he’d never said or done anything that made her feel like he would set the world on fire to keep her safe.
Seeing Max angry on her behalf gave her a heady feeling that both exhilarated and scared her. Max was intense, and she wondered if that intensity was part of what had led to the end of his first marriage. Maybe Melody couldn’t stand the heat.
Placing a cautious hand under his chin, she pulled his face around to hers. “I appreciate your concern, but I promise I can handle myself.”
Slowly, the angry red color faded from his cheeks, and the fire in his eyes dimmed. “I’m sorry. Just… the thought of someone treating you that way.” His hands clenched again. “It makes me see red.”
“I didn’t love it either.” Her hand cupped his cheek. “It’s over now, and I’m okay.”
He lowered his gaze. “But you’re still planning on pitching your proposal to him.”
“To be fair, I’d be pitching the board , not him. Or at least not only him.” She searched his face. “But I understand your concern.”
“You understand it, but you don’t share it?”
“Oh no, I share it.” Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes as the warmth of the sun caressed her skin. “I worry that if I don’t go through with it, then he wins. I mean, who knows, maybe last night was part of his attempt to convince me I need to stay in my lane and stick to wedding planning. His condescension at our lunch meeting gave me the impression he doesn't think I have what it takes.”
Max frowned. “Was it all an act?”
Though she hadn’t considered that, Carissa doubted that was the case. “He doesn’t strike me as that good of an actor, and I can’t imagine he’d purposefully get drunk to sabotage me.”
“When is your meeting with the board?”
“Next week on Wednesday.”
Max didn’t speak as he digested her words. Part of her wondered if she shouldn’t have told him, but the relief she experienced on getting it off her chest overcame any misgivings she had. Besides, he’d asked. If he didn’t want to know, he would have said.
“While it doesn’t sound like a good idea, I understand it’s a huge boon for your career. Just… Promise me you’ll be careful and you won’t allow yourself to be alone with him.”
She raised three fingers of her right hand. “Scout’s honor.”
His lips pulled into a soft smile, and he took her hand, brushing her fingers against his lips. Her heart stopped then raced in her chest. But before she could say or do anything, he stood.
“We should go before I do something reckless.” He held out his hand to help her off the bench. Then he took her back to the diner.
For a moment, she thought he might kiss her by her car, but unlike the times before, there was no doubt in her mind she wanted him to. Instead, he squeezed her hand.
“I’ll see you Sunday.”