Saving This (The McCallans #5) (13 page)

“You work for my father,” he replied dryly, the reality seeming to put a damper on just about anything, really. He truly did like Joe and Dexter, but there was a certain amount of distrust he had for anyone who was on Craig McCallan’s payroll.

“You’re right,” Joe nodded. “So maybe I don’t have to? You’re obviously cutting some ties… I’d rather not be one of them. I’d take a pay cut, man. Think about it?”

Max had a tough time discerning intentions sometimes. Even though he trusted he was in good hands with Joe, he was still reluctant to make any promises to someone he worried would be more loyal to his father in the long run. And he couldn’t put it past his dad to slip a little something under the table for someone’s loyalty.

“I don’t know at this point,” Max answered honestly. “And why would you take a pay cut? Don’t devalue yourself, Joey. And I can always recommend you for something good, okay?”

It was obvious that wasn’t what he preferred to hear, but Joe nodded as he passed by Max for the hallway. “Yes, sir. Holler if you need me after your meeting.”

Max stood in the sitting room for a moment, running the conversation through his head for a minute. Then an idea struck him, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was necessary.

He made a decision at that moment and sent Cole a text as he headed for the library to prepare for his pre-production meeting.

Chapter Fifteen

Max sat in the back seat of the family’s limo with Joe at the wheel and Dexter next to him. They’d been in Hollywood for another aspect of work—a small post-production press gathering for a previous movie that was still lingering at the top of box office sales. It was a standard event and already known to the public, which required security. Now Joe was waiting for instructions on where to go next. He was appearing anxious, fully aware that a group of fans in the distance had seen them climb into the car. They were now getting bolder with how close they came.

The windows were completely blacked out on the car, so Max knew they couldn’t see him. But as he stared across the street, he felt that wave of isolation and loneliness hit. It was the same feeling he got when he didn’t know how he was supposed to respond to a crowd.
Fake it, fake it, fake it
was what he always felt inside. He didn’t like the attention and he didn’t like the spotlight, but he’d been trained to give the public what they wanted when it was required of him. That was the façade he’d delivered less than thirty minutes ago inside. It was a role he’d been playing well for a very long time.

He loved making movies, but he could do without the publicity. There could be a crowd of thousands wanting to be around him, but it was still the loneliest feeling in the world.

Right now, as the group of people on the sidewalk had doubled, several bodies were coming even closer to the limo. Max felt tension build instantly, just as a female evaded a police barricade to lift her shirt and press her naked breasts to the back window next to him. She got in a two-second flash before security pulled her away from the vehicle.

Dexter snickered, but Max looked away with a disappointed sigh, trying to focus on something that would lower his stress levels right now. “Back to the mansion,” he finally ordered.

“You sure?” Joe asked. But then he grimaced, like he knew he shouldn’t have questioned the boss, and started the car.

No, it wasn’t a good idea to skip out on his dad’s dinner party that night, but there was nothing appealing about it. It was the same restaurant Teague had barged into to rip their father a new one for interfering with Camryn. Max had made an attempt to converse with his brother that night, and it had gone nowhere. But the idea of returning to that celebrity-sighting hub with his father made his blood pressure increase even more. The expectation to mingle with that crowd for the media’s sake was undesired.

He stared at his phone again as the car began to move carefully away from spectators. He was
still
waiting for Kate to give him a fucking answer for when he could see Chase. She was giving him the run around, claiming it wasn’t a good week or the weekend was too busy to bother with specific plans. It was the same bullshit over and over again.

His conversation with Joe the other night was also still rolling around in his head. Even though the guy hadn’t realized it, he’d done Max a favor by pointing out a very obvious detail.
He just couldn’t trust anyone his father was associated with.
And he was beginning to understand how many ties he’d actually have to sever when it was all said and done.

Joe and Dexter would be two of them.

On that note, Max took the ride back home in silence. Each time his phone buzzed, he glanced at the screen. If it was his father wondering why he was late, he ignored it. Shutting his phone off would be ideal, but he couldn’t miss a text from Kate if she decided to be a decent human being. And he was also hanging on to the hope that Anna would reach out, but he almost laughed at that ridiculous notion. She had no reason to and he couldn’t blame her for it.
He
was the one who collapsed the bridge with one defensive blow.

But he was feeling like shit and impulsively sent her a text.

I’m sorry

Maybe it wouldn’t do anything to mend their friendship, but at least he felt better for doing it.

As Max entered the mansion, his father had given up texting and was now calling instead. He was pretty sure Joe had already reported back to Craig that they weren’t going to be at the dinner.

Max sighed in the entryway as he vacantly stared at the chandelier thirty feet above. For whatever reason he paused, there were certainly no answers to be found. Three stories of structure consisting of nine bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a library, an office, two full kitchens and dining rooms, a movie theatre, three different sitting areas, a grand piano he’d never touched, and countless luxurious furnishings…

What the hell for?

“Anything for the evening, Mr. McCallan?” Gretchen asked, coming from the back of the house. She looked confused as to why he was even home right now but he knew she would never in her life question him on it. “Would you like some supper? Or maybe a drink?”

He actually was pretty hungry since skipping the meeting with his father would have meant food. Max gave her a simple nod and headed for the kitchen. “Yes, I would like something. But I can get it myself. You can have the evening off as you were expecting.”

She nodded her response and smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

God, he hated the formalities.

He knew there were fresh meals in the fridge from his kitchen staff, like always. A short vibration sounded in his pocket, so as he pulled open the door to the main refrigerator and found a dish labeled
primavera
to heat, the phone got a quick glance. Assuming it was his father again, he was ready to reply that he refused to come tonight. But he almost dropped the glass dish when he saw it wasn’t his dad.

Anna: I forgive you

Just seeing those three words gave him a tremendous amount of relief. He wasn’t expecting to feel that way. He also put the food back in the fridge and headed up the stairs instead. Stepping into the master suite, he sent another text.

What are you doing tonight?

He stripped off his suit and tie, and ended up taking the shortest shower on record. Throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he checked his phone, hoping for a return text.

Anna: Just about to watch a movie and eat pizza. Wanna join?

Max: Yes!

She sent him her address, which made him feel guilty for acquiring it through Cole in the first place. He’d planned on stopping by sometime if she had refused to speak with him, but he’d been hesitant to even take that step. Sending flowers would have been his second choice. Who would have thought just a simple apology was all it took? He’d never heard or experienced anything good when it came to a woman scorned. Maybe he should have listened to Kellie sooner.

Evading any house employees, Max took the back stairs to the six-car garage. He grabbed the keys to his truck and pulled it out as he set his GPS. Anna lived in Ventura, which was less than an hour from his Malibu mansion.

And only twenty minutes from my other place
, he thought with a smile.

He actually did stop to get flowers on his way. He wasn’t too beyond basic courtesies that he would refuse such a thing. However, as he stood in front of dozens and dozens of options in a mom-and-pop owned business along the coast, he struggled with indecision. He knew straight up Anna wouldn’t care what kind of flowers he got, so he abandoned the routine of getting the most expensive and decided on what was visually appealing to himself instead.

After hand selecting a dozen flowers, he took them to the counter. A woman in her mid-fifties eyed him with obvious recognition, but she only smiled and said, “I was going to offer my help but you looked quite determined yourself.”

Max unknowingly rubbed the back of his neck with a bit of unexpected tension. But he smiled, hoping it came across as confident enough, and answered, “I’m a bit controlling that way.”

She laughed, whether she agreed with him or not, but it at least felt good to be able to joke with someone so casually.

“Hmm, that’s not what I picked up on. You have a good eye for
distinctiveness
.”

He raised an eyebrow while she trimmed a few stems to form a loose bouquet in her hand.

“Would you like a vase for these?” She’d motioned to various options to her right. He couldn’t automatically assume Anna had a vase, so he easily chose the one he liked the most. The woman’s smile was impossible to miss. “I guarantee she’ll like anything you choose, and if she doesn’t, perhaps you should reconsider her character.”

Appreciating her bluntness, Max nodded his agreement. “I assure you, I could bring one tiny daisy from the grass and this girl would love it.”

He wasn’t sure why he was being so open with this woman. Maybe he should be more cautious, but after considering what tabloid story could actually come from this encounter, he decided he really didn’t care. And as he thought about what he’d just said about Anna, he realized how true it was. She really would have liked just about anything.

The woman rang up his purchase, so Max pulled out his wallet. Dropping a hundred-dollar bill on the counter, he picked up the floral arrangement and thanked her on his way to the door.

“Wait, your change!” she called out, quickly punching keys to the cash register. She hurried to count out his bills, but Max shook his head with a smile.

“No need. Have a great week, ma’am.”

***

As he pulled into Ventura, Max’s phone signaled him with another text. He was glad to use it as a distraction, not wanting to admit to himself that he was fucking nervous to see Anna again.

Cole: Are you sure, man? I’d be more than happy to help you with that if it’s what you want

Max followed his GPS a few blocks inland until he pulled into a parking lot, and then he sent a reply to Cole. He studied the apartment complex in front of him, noticing it was pretty nice and within walking distance to the beach. He wondered if Anna went surfing regularly, and upon thinking about that, he remembered what she looked like in a bikini a couple of weeks ago.

Adjusting his pants, he read Cole’s message one more time. This was really going to happen, and if he had doubts before, he didn’t anymore. Now it just seemed like a reality. But he knew there would also be a very tumultuous aftermath when it was all said and done. However, he trusted Cole entirely, and upon dwelling on that, Max was beginning to realize he truly did have people in his life he could count on. But that circle was very small, and as long as he kept it that way, he felt it was viable.

With sunglasses on, Max wandered toward Anna’s building. As he approached the units that wrapped around to the backside, it was almost a given which apartment was hers. She said it was on the third level, the top, but the surfboards leaned against the deck railing were a dead giveaway.

He climbed the set of outdoor stairs, liking the fact that he could just go up to her door and knock without speaking to anyone, but also not liking it because of the easy access others could have. As he rapped a few times, he glanced behind and around him to check out the area. It was quiet, and the only people he could see was an elderly couple walking a dog fifty yards away.

The door swung open and Max turned to face it. Not expecting the way he would feel upon seeing her, there was automatically a loss for words. He could only stare. Her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head with wispy strands framing her face, and her brown eyes were lively yet curious. He was also drawn to the smirk on her face as she glanced at the flowers in his hand.

“Yes?” she asked. “Can I help you, sir?”

Realizing she was mocking his scarce disguise, he removed the sunglasses. Then she laughed and pulled the door open for him to enter. Max looked around at the nice but simple décor, not surprised it was beach and surf themed.

“How long have you lived here?” he asked.

Shutting the door, she shrugged. “About a year, I guess. I like it. It’s close enough to the beach and it’s a quiet neighborhood. Elderly.”

He arched an eyebrow as he handed her the flowers. “These are for you. And…elderly?”

“This is a unit for seniors,” she chuckled. “I’m an exception. And wow, these are absolutely beautiful.” She looked over the flowers for a few seconds, almost like she was studying each one. Then she faced him again. “Thank you. This is so very thoughtful of you. Every one of these is a different kind.”

“You’re very welcome, and yes they are. I expect a full list of what each one is. Tomorrow. Help a guy out.”

She laughed, her eyes dancing with animation. Her smile was the brightest and most genuine he’d ever seen. Hell, it was a fucking turn on.

“Okay, I’ll do my best,” she agreed with another laugh. “I just thought each of your personalities picked out their own flower.”

God, her wit was sexy. And even though she was making fun of him, he wasn’t offended in the least bit.

“I’m sure that probably was the case,” Max agreed. He watched her set the arrangement on the coffee table. Thinking back to their conversation a minute ago, he asked, “Why are you the exception here?”

“Oh. Because I asked to be.” She motioned him in further and they both sat on the same couch, a cushion apart. Anna tucked her legs up underneath her. “No, really. I begged to stay here. I wanted somewhere quiet and fairly private. I promised I’d help with a few things here and there, and the manager agreed.”