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Everyone stared at the table. Finally Max nodded, and Jimmy beamed.

I felt a stab of envy. Of course Max could collaborate with his own people but not with me.

“What does he even do when he’s not telling me my ideas are crap?” I asked grumpily.

“A bit of everything. Approves developments, new ideas. Sometimes he even codes. I saw him get lost in the Pit for three weeks once. I don’t think he got up to take a piss,” Riley mused as we watched them together, leaning against the kitchen doorway. “Fun fact: most people think Oasis was Max’s first game, but he actually spun off three more under a different name. His first release made him more than two hundred grand.”

“Impressive.”

“Yeah, especially for a fifteen-year-old.”

Damn.

I led the way back to Riley’s office. Someone had been nice enough to pull one of the work stations inside, so I had a little nook in the corner that was quieter than the open-concept space outside.

“So he doesn’t have any hobbies? Personal life?”

“If you ask him, he’ll say his work is play. But everyone needs time to decompress. The truth is, Max plays like the rest of us, maybe more. He just keeps a Chinese wall up.”

“Is that what Stack’s for?” I asked.

Riley surprised me by blushing. “It was my idea, actually. Our fearless leader is pretty high strung. If he doesn’t blow off steam, he gets cranky.”

“You don’t say,” I quipped. “So strippers are how you blow off steam? Not that I’m judging. Half the guys in my office probably get frequent flyer miles at places like Stack.”

“For us? They’re safer than real girls.” He flashed an enigmatic smile. I wanted to ask what he meant, but he went back to his work.

Restless, I made my way back out to the Pit. Six workstations were still occupied. Everyone seemed to have a job, to know exactly what they were doing.

Except me.

I wandered up behind one of the girls and she noticed, turning to face me.

“Sorry to interrupt. I was just curious what you’re doing.” I blanked. “I’m Payton. Claire, right?”

“You got it,” she offered easily. “This is a log frame.” She pointed to a document in front of her. “And here’s a sample of what we’re putting together. The sketches for what Phoenix will look like. We got some artists to work up concepts on the basis of the story Max built.”

I looked, fascinated. “Can you email me that?”

She hesitated. “Max is pretty particular about what gets sent around.”

“OK.” Pulling out my phone, I snapped a few pictures.

“What the hell are you doing?” Max’s voice came from behind us and we both turned.

“I’m working,” I offered. “What about you?”

“Kitchen. Now.” He turned on his heel like he knew I’d follow.

“Did you forget how to use sentences?” I asked, irritated, when we were alone. “You don’t need to march me across the room like I’m a child who’s scribbled on the wall with crayon.”

He ignored me. “Why were you taking pictures?”

“They’re for the presentation. You know, the one you’ll eventually have to make to a funder. We need to add some visuals of what the game will be like.”

“No.”

My mouth fell open. “But Max…I don’t think we can get a funder without
showing them
what you’re creating.”

“You would’ve kissed my ass to give me twenty million.”

Heat rose in my cheeks. “I was basically told to.”

Max leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across the green and navy plaid shirt he wore over jeans. “Then figure out how to get them as motivated as you were.”

“Oh, no. Don’t put this on me. Without any of these—” I held up the image on my phone of the character specs, “—your pitch is going to be boring as fuck.”

I wanted to reach out and slap the self-righteous expression off his face, but his attention dropped.

“What are you—
Hey
!”

Max reached toward me, twisting the phone out of my hand. I swiped for it but he held it away, tapping buttons in quick succession.

“Are you deleting my pictures?”

“No. I’m deleting mine.” He handed the phone back, looking grimly satisfied.

Unbelievable!
There were private photos on there. OK, maybe nothing racy, but personal stuff. Me and Charlie drinking at Tilt. Me and my mom celebrating her first year cancer-free.

My voice was nearly shaking as I tucked the device safely in my back pocket. “That’s not just my phone, Max. My life is on there. And I didn’t give you permission to look at it.”

“Yeah? Well Titan is my life. And I didn’t give you permission to put
it
on
your
phone,” he replied tightly.

“Ugh!  Why are you being such a…”

“Such a what?”

“A dick!” I hissed.

He was close enough I could feel the heat coming off him. “Listen, Payton. Every fucking thing under this roof is mine. Which means it happens the way I want it to. If you can’t deal with that, you can go back to Alliance.”

I struggled to keep my voice level. “Listen,
Max
. I didn’t agree to help you because I’m bored and looking for a hobby. I’m here to do a job and get out. So if you can’t deal with that, you can go to hell.”

I spun away and stalked through the kitchen to the hall, my heels clicking on the hardwood of the foyer. I grabbed my purse and tucked it under my arm before giving into the childish impulse to slam the door on the way out.

Chapter 10

This is really fucking awkward

“Payton!”

A short, round woman with graying blond hair and a wide smile reached for me as I entered the room at my mom’s side. I would’ve launched myself into her arms even if she hadn’t folded me in them.

“Hi, Aunt Gina.” Gina wasn’t my real aunt but she might as well have been. Of all the friends my mom had made at her group over the past few years, Gina was one of the best. She’d had her own battle, and though doctors said she was in the clear, she’d lost a sister last year.

“I haven’t seen you in ages, but you get more gorgeous every time.” She pulled back, patting my cheek. “You don’t usually come to meetings, so what are you doing here?”

“It’s your birthday soon.” The small package I produced from my purse was carefully wrapped in bright purple paper with sparkly flowers.

Gina beamed. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Open it!” Excitement bubbled through me as she unfolded the paper to find a picture of her and her twin sons, who’d just gone off to USC for college. She always talked about them, and I knew how proud she was of what they’d already accomplished. I’d emailed them to get the image, and had it printed and framed at a great new place near my office.

“I know you miss them, but I thought this would help you feel like they weren’t so far away.”

She sniffed. “It does. Thank you, Payton.”

“Thanks for the ride, sweetie,” my mom said. “Gina will drive me home after.”

“You really need to learn to Uber.”

“I refuse,” she declared, her eyes sparking. “Who knows who drive those things?”

I liked getting her riled up, and this was one of her current hot topics. “I hear some celebrities do it for kicks.”

“No way. If I’m going to tip George Clooney, it sure as hell won’t be for driving me to the grocery store.”

I rolled my eyes and turned to head for home.

Max and I hadn’t spoken or texted since our fight last night. Who knew if he still wanted my help at Titan. Or if I wanted to give it to him.

He was arrogant. Paranoid.
Wrong
.

I climbed the stairs from the community center’s basement to the main level, still lost in my thoughts. At least three other rooms always seemed to be in use. I couldn’t pretend to know all the groups, but I’d seen everything from a fencing club to the Young Republicans.

Another meeting on the main floor was just letting out. I glanced unseeing past the faces on my way to the door, but a familiar lean body, profile, and Converse sneakers drew me to a halt.

“Max?”

His head snapped toward me and he crossed the hall. “What are you doing here?” Dark eyes shifted between me and the doorway at the end, as if he couldn’t wait to leave.

A short woman in a plaid shirt interrupted us on her way out. “Thanks for tonight. I know it was hard.”

“Sure,” Max replied under his breath.

“What are
you
—” My voice died when I caught sight of the sheet of papers the woman had under her arm. The words
Mental Health Support Group
leapt out at me.

“Oh.” I felt the blood drain from my face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“This is really fucking awkward, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I should—yeah.” I turned the other way and started down the hall, only to duck into the women’s bathroom, my face hot.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror over the sink. Big hazel eyes looked back at me, along with the faintest dusting of freckles that only showed up when I went pale.

My brain was sifting through the millions of reasons he might’ve been at that group when the woman who’d spoken to Max appeared at the sink next to me, dropping her binder on the vanity.

“It was a rough meeting,” she volunteered. “Natalie was a sweet girl. You might want to make sure he’s OK.”

She must’ve figured I was a friend of Max’s. “Right,” I stammered. “I will.”

Max should’ve been gone by the time I made it to the parking lot. Instead he was sitting on a bench, staring off into space like he was trying to decide between the world inside his mind and the one in front of him.

I debated whether to approach, but the words from the woman in the washroom came back to me.

Max’s gaze flicked up to mine when I crossed to the bench. The embarrassment was gone, replaced with apathy.

“Sorry about before. When I ran.”

He nodded once, then rubbed a hand over his chin.

I looked around us. There was no one else in the parking lot, just a handful of cars, and I made a snap decision.

“Hey, do you want to go somewhere? Clear your head?”

He hesitated a moment. “OK.”

Max followed me to my Prius and slid into the passenger seat. “How’s Starbucks?” I offered, fastening my seatbelt.

“No. I have a better idea.”

Max seemed to snap out of it, and I followed the curt directions as he gave them. For my part, I navigated the streets carefully, shooting him looks only when we stopped for a light.

“Park over here,” Max instructed when we got to our destination.

“The yacht club?” I asked aloud.

He didn’t say anything as we got out of the car and he cut down the path toward a row of boats. Small ones gave way to bigger ones, each silent and beautiful in the night. He walked slowly, his eyes scanning the row of boats and his hands jammed in his pockets.

Max pulled up in front of a shiny, white boat that was longer than my living room. Without hesitation, he leaned over to pull on one of the ropes holding the boat to the dock.

Then leapt off the dock and onto the boat.

“Max!” I hissed. “What the hell are you doing?”

He turned to face me, like he’d only just remembered I was there. “Relax. This is my boat.”

The name,
Real Fantasy
, wound its way down the side in script.

Max held out a hand but I looked down at the expanse of water. “You’re fine. Just step on the edge.”

Easy for you to say
.

I shot him a glare before taking his hand.

I nearly fell—not because of the distance or my balance, but the way my arms prickled from the feel of his skin on mine. Max was oblivious. Once I’d gotten both feet on the deck, he dropped my hand as quick as he’d taken it.

The gentle bobbing sent my stomach reeling. I reminded myself we were firmly tethered to the dock.

“You want to see the rest?” Max asked.

I glanced around. “The rest of what?”

“The boat.”

I followed Max as he opened a small door I hadn’t seen, revealing stairs that descended into darkness.

Below the deck was another world. A tiny one, but perfect in its construction. On one side was a bench and kitchen table. On the other, a flat screen TV. A kitchen complete with a stove, sink and microwave had nicer finishes than mine at home. The built-in sofa was half-sized, and there were even blinds for the round windows.

My fingers ran over the furniture, delighting in the feel of it. Rich, shiny wood dominated. Where there was fabric, it was navy blue.

Another door beyond the living space beckoned. I brushed past Max to find a bedroom.

The bed was raised on a platform, and it curved to a point just above the pillows, following the lines of the front of the boat. A skylight was set right over the mattress, like a window from this place to the real world.

I’d been on a boat once, but the Staten Island Ferry was more like a giant people-pen. You could almost forget you were on the water. Not like this sleek, elegant toy.

“Can I?” Excitement surged through me. Right now, in this moment, I couldn’t contain it.

Max frowned. “Can you what?”

Without waiting for an answer, I sprawled onto the bed. Rolling side to side, I still couldn’t see anything but blue sky just tinged with pink from the impending sunset through the skylight. It was extraordinary. Like sleeping under the stars.

I pushed up to my elbows to find Max watching me from the doorway with an unreadable expression. “I bet there’s even a bathroom,” I said, breathless.

He nodded. “And a washer and dryer.”

My jaw dropped. “It’s incredible. This is all yours?” I marveled.

Something glinted, a shard of light in the dullness of his eyes. “It’s just a cabin cruiser. I bought it after Oasis launched.” He shifted. “I’ll be right back.”

Max’s steps receded to the stairs and up, but I lingered. My fingers stroked the luxurious fabric on top of the bed.

It was easy to picture getting on a boat like this and just taking off. Disappearing for days, or weeks. No responsibilities. No drama. Go anywhere. Do anything.

As a kid I’d dreamed I was an adventurer who could squeeze my eyes shut and open them to find myself somewhere else. Growing up an only child with a single mom, we hadn’t had the money to travel much, but I’d never let that get in the way of imagining what it would be like.

A rumbling sound erupted from somewhere close by, startling me out of my daydreams.

I retraced my steps through the mini-house and stuck my head above deck. What I saw had panic gripping me.

The docks were forty feet away. Then sixty.

Bolting up the stairs, I turned to find Max standing behind the wheel.

“What are you doing?” I squeaked.

“Clearing my head,” he called over his shoulder.