28—HAPPINESS

“I love what you’ve done.”

“Really?” Lana said.

I turned and smiled. “Really.”

I made a circle around Lana’s living room, looking at the little touches she had put throughout the apartment to make this space hers.

Turns out, you can find some good stuff at thrift stores. Or maybe Lana just had a good eye. She picked things out that by themselves, just looked used and ugly. But together it all worked.

There was a large, off-white bookcase that flanked the entertainment center. A comfy, tan couch with a large, gilded mirror mounted on the wall behind it. And there were flowers on every available space. On the kitchen table, the end table. Real or fake. It didn’t really matter to Lana. I asked her why she had so many. She said when she looked at them her spirits would instantly lift.

Lana looked down at the pillow lying on her lap and picked at a loose thread. “It’s been fun picking things out.”

“And it’s been fun going from store to store picking things out with you.”

I made myself comfortable on the couch and took a good look at her.

“You’re doing okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

That was Lana’s go-to answer. Every time she said it, her voice was hollow. But today I heard excitement and saw the small spark of hope in her eyes.

She drew her knees close to her chest and leaned in, as if she was sharing a secret.

“I signed up for some online college courses,” she confessed.

“That’s great!”

Lana shrugged and looked away, hiding her blushing face. “It’s not much but—”

I held up my hand. “Stop right there. Don’t say it’s not much. It’s a huge step in the right direction.”

“I knew you would say that.”

“What are friends for?”

Lana smiled warmly. “I still want to look for a job.”

“That’s good,” I said tentatively.

Lana had to do most everything on her own terms. Sure, I could encourage her until I was blue in the face, but ultimately, it had to be her that made the final choice.

“I guess so,” she said as she trailed her fingers across the couch cushion. “I thought about what you said.”

I nodded, urging her to continue.

“I went into the bookstore three times yesterday. I hung around the shelves, staring at the cash register, just waiting to get the courage to walk up there and ask for an application. I wimped out each time and now everyone who works there probably thinks I’m a stalker.”

She gave me a weak smile. I frowned.

“I told you I’d help you find a job.”

“I know. But I wanted to get a head start. I can’t live off my savings for the rest of my life.”

“It’d be a nice way to live though, right?” I teased.

“The best way.”

“Look…” I said thoughtfully. “It’s only been three weeks. You’re getting used to this new change in your life. Give it some time.”

“How much time will I need?”

“Doesn’t matter. There’s no cut off point or expiration date. Just take all the time you need.”

She glanced over at me and quietly asked, “How’s Max?”

“He’s good.”

I never told her about the conversation I overheard between Max and her dad. I saw no reason in letting her know. She was doing well, so why would I bring it up? It would take all the progress she had made and blow it to smithereens.

“Have you talked to Lachlan?” she asked. Her tone was carefree, but she watched me carefully.

I walked over to the patio doors, looking at the buildings around us. I didn’t want to talk about him. He was a ghost that needed to be laid to rest. All those memories I had with him needed to stay buried with him. But just the mention of his name brought up those memories: laying flat on our backs in the treehouse, talking and talking and talking. That very first kiss that turned my world upside down.

I swallowed and closed my eyes, trying to make those memories disappear.

My eyes opened. I was still standing in place. Still standing in Lana’s apartment, yet, my mind was rooted in the past. I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Nope.”

“Not once?”

“Nope,” I repeated, my voice tight.

“That’s… strange.”

I turned. “Why is it strange?”

“He’s been in your life for the past ten years.”

“So?”

“It’s just weird that you would cut him out.”

“I haven’t cut him out.”

She tilted her head. “Then what do you call what you’re doing?”

“Everything’s changed, Lana.”

“I know that better than anyone. But you can’t just—”

My gut started to twist painfully. This was a conversation I wasn’t ready for.

“Stop,” I interrupted.

“What is this?” There was a small smile on Lana’s face as she waved a hand in between us. “Normally, you’re the one handing out advice and leading me in the right direction.”

Is that what Lana thought she was doing? She thought Lachlan was the right direction?

“There’s no need for leading, Lana. I’m just fine,” I said softly.

My breathing became shallow. I crossed my arms, but it was only to hide my shaking hands. I didn’t want to shut her out, but I refused to talk about Lachlan. I exhaled loudly and picked up my purse.

“I gotta go. I’ll see you later?”

Lana looked at me for a long second. For a moment, I was afraid that she could see the truth.

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I’ll see you later.”

* * *

I drove down Lincoln Road. It was a five-mile stretch that led to Max’s house.

My window was open, letting in the smell of firewood. It was slightly overcast but that didn’t stop a few kids from playing with a sprinkler in their front yard. I drove past them with a fleeting glance.

All I could think about was Lachlan.

I didn’t expect Lana to mention his name. He was a subject that we hardly brought up.

He came into my life at the right time. And when he left, I knew it was for a reason. But I also knew we weren’t finished. I knew he would come back into my life. I just wasn’t ready.

I pulled into Max’s driveway. His car was parked in front of the garage. A silver Beamer was parked in the circular drive. I ignored the pounding in my ears and gripped the steering wheel, trying to get a good look at the car.

“Shit,” I whispered.

That was Lana’s dad’s car.

I pulled up beside Max’s car. My hands were still gripping the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip. I tried to imagine why Lana’s dad was here. Maybe it was innocent. Maybe it was for work. Didn’t really matter; every scenario ended badly.

“Shit,” I repeated.

First instinct: Turn my car around. Get the hell out of dodge. Far away from Lana’s dad.

What I would actually do: Stay.

I had to know what was being said.

I walked up the sidewalk. My legs were threatening to give out on me. I went to ring the doorbell but at the last minute I stopped. Now that I knew Lana’s dad was here, I wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible. Like a spy who sneaks in and out without anyone noticing.

I stepped inside and scanned the foyer. Lucy, Max’s housekeeper was turning to walk up the stairs with a laundry basket in hand. She stopped and stared at me with wide eyes. She was in her mid-fifties. Her brown hair was graying at the temples. She came here three days a week.

I pressed my index finger against my lips before I motioned for her to come closer.

“How long have they been in there?” I whispered.

“Not long. Maybe five minutes.”

“Okay. Good. I—” I stopped talking when I saw the look on her face. She would cover for Max if anything happened. But I was a different story.

“Naomi, you shouldn’t be here,” she whispered back.

“I’ll leave in a few minutes.”

I patted her shoulder, gave her a reassuring grin and tiptoed to Max’s door. Lucy’s footsteps sounded above my head.

My palms laid flat against the door and I focused hard on what was being said.

“Why are you here? You’re angry that your daughter is gone?” Max’s voice was tense with anger. “Help me out here. Tell me what’s really going on.”

“I know you’re a sensible man, my boy.”

I closed my eyes and gently rested my forehead against the door. That was Michael.

The purpose was to listen to their conversation for a few minutes and get out of there before either one saw me. Yet I found myself turning the doorknob. It was barely an inch but it was enough to see inside. I closed my left eye and turned my face, peeking inside with my right.

Lana’s dad walked the length of the room. He had on black dress pants, a white dress shirt and a navy blue tie. His light brown hair was combed over to the side. Not a hair was out of place.

“I just came here to speak with you,” her dad reasoned. “Man to man.”

Max snorted and leaned back in his chair. He watched Lana’s dad with a sharp eye. “Just say what you need to say and leave.”

Her dad stopped walking and faced Max head on. I didn’t see his face, but I watched his body language. The way he stood, how he crossed his arms. “Whatever my daughter told you, it’s not true.”

Max said nothing.

“I understand that you think you’re doing the right thing. You think you’re protecting her, trying to be a hero. And I find that admirable.” He flashed Max his politician smile. The one that always put everyone at ease. “But there’s no one to save here. Everything is all right.”

Max didn’t buy into his words or his smile. He rested his elbows on his desk. Both of his hands were curled into fists and pressed against his lips. He sat there, the clock ticking the time away, just looking at Lana’s dad with a cold stare. Finally he moved. One hand laid flat on the desk, the other was pointed right at Lana’s dad.

“You can sit there and smile and tell me that nothing has happened. And you can try to tell me that you would never do anything to hurt your daughter. But we both know it’s a fucking act.”

Her dad’s shoulders stiffened.

“I wonder what everyone in McLean would do if they knew what you really were.”

“I’m nothing but a loving husband and father,” her dad said firmly.

The anger was spreading into Max’s eyes, making him shake. He was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at any second.

“I don’t give a fuck who you think you are! In my book you’re a fucking rapist!” Max roared.

“That’s a big accusation to make and a huge hit at my character.”

Max smiled darkly. “It’s not an accusation if it’s the truth.”

“Were you there? Did you see whatever my daughter told you I did with your own eyes?”

My gut twisted over his condescending tone.

“I didn’t have to be anywhere to know it was the truth,” Max responded. “Since the day I met you, I knew something wasn’t right. You always have an answer for everything. That smile of yours never slips from your face. You go out of your way to be nice. I should’ve realized that smile was to hide some fucked up shit.”

“Enough!” her dad snapped.

He turned away from Max. I got a good look at him. His hands were braced on his hips. His jaw was clenched, and his skin was pale and clammy. He took a few breaths as he stared down at the floor. I could see him scrambling to get his bearings. Max sideswiped him and even though I was scared shitless right now, I couldn’t stop the smile that came across my face.

Lana’s dad took a deep breath. A smile was already on his face as he rotated back to Max.

“We’re getting off on the wrong foot here. I just came here to fix the damage between us,” he said as he sat down in the seat across from Max. His body slightly bent, elbows on his knees and his fingers steepled. “Your eye for buying and selling stocks is unrivaled. We may no longer be working together but that doesn’t mean I can’t recommend you to fellow businessmen.”

“Is this a joke?”

“No.”

“I drop you as a client and as a thank you, you recommend me to your fellow ‘businessmen’?” Max asked in disbelief.

“I am a fair man.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re a desperate man. And you’re here to make sure that I keep quiet and don’t ruin that perfect reputation of yours.”

Lana’s dad didn’t say a word.

Max lifted a brow, that dark smile still on his face. “Am I right?”

Lana’s dad leaned close. The chair creaked beneath him. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re making a bad choice.” That calm tone had disappeared from Lana’s dad’s voice and became low and ominous. His true colors were showing.

Max spread his palms out. “I’ll take my chances. Now go. Get the fuck out.”

Lana’s dad tapped both armrests before he stood. Max stood at the same time, ready to see him out.

But I saw the smile on her dad’s face. It was cunning and I knew he had something up his sleeve. When Max walked around his desk, Lana’s dad stopped him by putting a hand on his arm. Max looked at it with indignation and pure rage. Michael stepped into Max’s personal space and said in a dark voice: “Son, your expiration date in this town is coming up. But I’ll still be here and everything that’s been mine, will still be mine.”

Max’s eyes became shuttered and I wanted to step forward. I’d never seen that look on his face. It was hatred. A blinding rage that made everything within reach in danger. He stopped thinking with a clear head and moved so fast, Lana’s dad never had a chance to react.

His hand curled around Lana’s dad’s neck. In one quick move he slammed his face against the edge of the desk. I heard the telltale sound of bones cracking. Lana’s dad screamed. It was filled with pain and made me shudder. One hit was good enough, but Max didn’t stop. His grip on Lana’s dad’s neck tightened. Max slammed his face against the desk two more times and I realized he wasn’t going to stop until her dad was dead. I pushed open the door and ran into the room. “Stop!”

Max didn’t stop. He didn’t look up at me. His jaw was locked, nostrils flared. He moved like he was in a trance.

I grabbed onto Max’s arm and pulled. “Stop it. You’re going to kill him!” I yelled.

Max looked at me. There was a wild look his eyes that made my skin break out in goose bumps. He panted and his shoulders rose and fell rapidly. He still gripped Lana’s dad by the back of the neck in an ironclad grasp. I pleaded with my eyes for him to let go of Michael and walk away.

Max dropped him. The man fell like a rag doll. He was groaning, holding onto his bleeding nose. Blood seeped in between his fingers, dripping onto the floor. I ignored him, stepped around him and placed my hands on Max’s face. I got him to take a few steps back, but his eyes were rooted to Lana’s dad on the floor. His entire body was stiff, practically shaking with anger.

“Don’t,” I whispered fiercely.

I waited for the anger to clear from his eyes, for a bit of sanity to return. He finally swallowed and looked at me. Some of his anger seemed to fade and I saw a small piece of the Max I knew.

Lana’s dad groaned as he gripped the desk and stood up.

Max’s eyes flicked over to him. In a low voice he said: “Go.”

I kept my hold on Max. I didn’t trust him. He might have calmed down some but it wasn’t enough for me to let go. I looked over my shoulder at Lana’s dad. He reached into his back pocket and grabbed a monogrammed handkerchief and wiped away the blood on his face. He laughed derisively as he looked down at the blood staining his shirt. Instead of looking at Max, the person who did this to him, he looked directly at me.

I’d never understood Lana’s refusal to tell everyone what her dad had done to her. But having those cold, dead eyes directed at me made me understand why she had so much fear. His lips curled into a knowing smile, as though he knew exactly what I was thinking. My breath started to quicken. It felt like the air was slowly being let out of the room. Little spots started to form behind my eyes.

Max muttered a curse underneath his breath. Our rolls switched. He stepped in front of me and pointed at the door. “I said go!” he bellowed. Even bruised and bloodied, Lana’s dad still had the nerve to smirk at me. His face sobered when he looked at Max with a sharp look in his eyes. “Think about what I said.”

With those words, he walked away, whistling a tune that I didn’t know. His footsteps echoed in the hall. Max and I were frozen in place, waiting for him to leave. The front door slammed seconds later. The windows rattled and Max and I were surrounded by heavy tension.

I let go of his arm. He walked away, his hands clasped behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling.

Moment later, there were footsteps coming down the stairs. Lucy stood in the doorway. I forgot she was even in the house. She gasped as she took in Max. Lana’s dad’s blood was on his shirt and hands and even a little on his face. She didn’t say a word.

“You can leave for the day,” I told her quietly.

She looked at Max. He kept his eyes rooted upward but nodded bluntly. She left moments later.

The house was completely quiet. It was finally just the two of us.

“What are you doing here, Naomi?” Max said gruffly.

“What am I—” I shook my head in disbelief. “What am I doing here? What the hell was he doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Max said. He still wouldn’t look at me. “I opened the fucking door and there he was. I still had stuff I wanted to say to him, so I let him in.”

“Was busting his face up what you needed to say?”

His hands dropped. He turned to look at me, his eyes flashing. “I’m not going to say sorry! I did what I’ve been dreaming of doing to that fucker since I found out the truth!”

“I’m not asking you to say sorry. I’m asking you to think!” I shouted. “He was trying to provoke you. All he was waiting for was that one moment. The one where you react. And you gave him what he wanted.” I held out my hand and jabbed a finger in the middle of my palm. “He had you eating right here. Right in the palm of his hand!”

“Everyone in this fucking town is eating out of his fucking palm!” Max exploded. “He’s used to calling the shots and no one going up against him. Today he got a very small dose of reality. Next time it won’t be very small.”

My nerves were shot. And Max’s had fried and blown up in flames minutes ago. We both stared at each other, both out of breath.

Some of his anger started to crumble. He looked away and spotted Michael’s blood sprayed across his collar.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

He walked out of the room, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. I followed him up the stairs.

I shut the door and leaned against the wall. Max took off his shirt, wadded it up in a ball and threw it in the corner. He paced the room like a caged animal.

“You should’ve let me finish him,” he said.

“Okay. You finish him. What happens after that?”

“He’s dead and no one has to deal with him again!”

“No. He’s dead and you’re behind bars. And then who do I have?”

That sobered him up. He dropped his hands as he walked over to me. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft. “I’m sorry I did that in front of you.”

His fingers combed through my hair. He looked at me thoughtfully, staring at every single feature before he kissed me. His lips stay pressed against mine. Not moving… just there.

My hands gripped his face and I tried to deepen the kiss, but he wouldn’t move. Adrenaline was still coursing through me. I wanted to transfer all that energy into kissing Max rather than arguing with him. I inhaled through my nose as I moved my lips against his. Max didn’t budge. My head tilted to the side and I dragged my tongue across the seam of his lips. Not a thing.

He held back on purpose. He didn’t allow lust to take over.

I hated that. I wanted to forget what happened downstairs.

Max’s grip on my face tightened as his lips slowly started to move against mine, his tongue slipped inside my mouth. I gasped.

I could feel what was behind this kiss: desperation, fear, and ultimately, loss. And that scared me more than anything. I gripped his shoulders, my grip bordering on painful.

We had nothing to worry about. We would be fine. I wanted to tell him just that, but I didn’t pull away long enough to say it.

I made my way to the bed, and Max followed. The pace of his kiss may have quickened, but his hands were slow and not near fast enough for me. I hurriedly undressed him and he took his time taking each article of my clothing off.

And when we were both naked, with me draped over him, he let me take the lead. Yet everything was still different. I kissed his strong jaw, moved down his body. His skin warm against my lips. I kissed the side of his pec. My teeth grazed against the cut of his abs.

Max’s hand curled around my skull. He lifted me up, until we were face to face and kissed me in a way that would leave my lips bruised. I moaned and slid him inside me in one fluid motion.

I moved up and down slowly, watching him the entire time. Each time his hips lifted, his arms that were wrapped around my waist, would tighten.

I held on right back.

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