The Gamble
“Oh no.” Now she sounded panicked.
“Oh yes.”
“What are you going to do?” Now she sounded hysterical.
“Well, the hotel is a pretty building, so I’d rather not set explosives.” Max chuckled again and I glared at him again while he flipped the lid down on the coffeemaker and then touched the switch.
“So, with that not being an option, what are you going to do?” Mom asked.
“Ignore him.”
“He’s hard to ignore.”
“Yes, well, by a cruel twist of fate, I am his daughter. Two can play at stubborn.”
Mom was quiet then she said softly, “Sweetie, I’m worried.”
“Why?”
“Because I got that picture.”
“What?”
“The e-mail you sent,” she said. “You look happy and he’s, Max… he’s… well, he’s gorgeous.” No doubt about it, she was right about that. “And, sweetheart, he looks happy too.”
My anger took a hit and warmth started to slide through me.
“Mom –”
“I haven’t seen you look like that…” she paused, “heck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look like that.”
“Mom –”
“I don’t want your Dad messing that up for you.”
“But –”
“And he will. If he can, he’ll do it.”
“It’ll be okay.”
“You’re sure? Because I’m not so sure.”
“Mom, I really think I made my point this morning.”
“How? Because when that man gets something in his head –”
I was watching Max who’d taken down some mugs and just spied the new sugar bowl. He was grinning at it as he slid it toward him on the counter.
I was seeing this and I wasn’t seeing it. This was because something had locked inside me, something unpleasant and ugly.
“I struck him,” I whispered and Max’s head came up and twisted toward me when he heard my tone.
“Sorry?” Mom asked in my ear but my eyes connected with Max’s.
“I hit him,” I said more to Max than to Mom.
“You hit Lawrence?” Mom asked but I was staring at Max who took two strides across the room to me as I dropped the hand with my phone from my ear.
“I hit him, Max,” I whispered as his hands came to my h*ps then slid around and he pulled my body into his.
“Honey,” he whispered back.
“I’m not like this,” I said. “I don’t… I’ve never –”
“It was an extreme situation,” Max broke in gently.
“That doesn’t excuse –”
One of his arms stayed around me but the other hand came to the side of my neck. “Duchess, hate to say this, but your Dad’s a dick.”
“But –”
“I was havin’ trouble not layin’ a hand on him.”
“But –”
“He was in my house actin’ like that, never met me, didn’t show you an ounce of respect.”
“But that doesn’t mean –”
“Then he brought your brother into it.”
“I know, still –”
His arm gave me a squeeze as did his hand, he bent his head toward me and said, “You didn’t hurt him, baby and, honest to God, he got what he deserved.”
“You don’t think I’m –” I started but I got another squeeze in two places.
“No, I don’t think you’re anything but what you are and most of that’s good.”
I felt the pressure release in my insides, the warmth seeping through but my eyes still narrowed when I asked, “Most of it?”
“Duchess, remind me never to get you that riled. You’re a handful when you’re angry but you’re hell on wheels when you’re seriously pissed.”
I was beginning to get slightly “pissed” when I heard faraway laughter coming from my phone. Then my eyes got wide and I jerked the phone to my ear.
“Mom, God, I’m so sorry, I forgot –”
She was still laughing when she cut me off by asking, “He calls you Duchess?”
Max was watching me talk and suddenly I was self-conscious. “He calls me that because he thinks I have an accent.”
“Sweetie, that’s because you do.”
“I don’t have an accent!” I snapped at Mom, Max threw his head back and laughed and he did it loud.
I glared at him.
He just kissed my forehead through his waning laughter, let me go and went to the fridge.
“Oh my,” Mom breathed in my ear, “he’s got an amazing laugh.”
She was right about that too.
“Mom –”
“I like him.”
I felt my eyes get wide again and I reminded her loudly, “You’ve never even met him!”
Max, his hand curled around the filled creamer, turned to me, lifting the creamer, shaking his head and looking like he wanted to laugh again. At the creamer, my conversation or something else that struck him funny, I didn’t know and at that moment didn’t care.
“I still like him,” Mom said in my ear.
“Mom –”
“I like the way he talks to you.”
I liked that too.
Still, I said, “Mom –”
“And it sounds like he was there when Lawrence was being Lawrence.”
“He was.”
“The whole time?”
I thought about it and realized he was, the whole time. Except for the first few moments, Max quickly dressed and was with me the instant he could get to me. He had my back the whole time, part of it literally.
“The whole time,” I said more quietly.
“And he called Lawrence the d-word,” Mom told me and I couldn’t help it, I giggled and so did Mom.
“Yes, he did,” I said.
“You’ve got to like a man who thinks Lawrence is the d-word.”
She was right about that too.
“Mom –”
“What’s he doing now?”
I watched as Max poured coffee.
“Making me coffee.”
“Steve does that for me too,” she told me contentedly. “Brings me a cup in bed nearly every morning.”
I looked at the floor and said, “That’s sweet Mom and I’m so glad you have that now. Anyway, enough of this. How’s Steve? Is he doing okay?”
“He’s Steve, never has a bad day, God love him.”