Beautiful Stranger
Page 70

But somehow, in the light of day on a Monday, it was harder than I expected to be young, and wild, and confident that I wasn’t setting myself up for another disaster.
“Thanks, George.”
“You’re welcome. But Chloe is coming down the hall so get your big-girl panties on.”
In fact, she was closer than I expected and shoved my assistant playfully out of the way before walking into my office and slamming my door in his face.
“Max?”
“I know.”
“The mystery guy is Max?”
“Chloe, I’m sorry I didn’t—”
She stopped me, holding up a hand. “I asked you if it was Max. You lied to me, very convincingly, and said no. I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or pissed.”
“Impressed?” I offered, giving her a winning smile.
“Oh my God, don’t be cute.” She walked over to my couch near the window and sat down. “Walk me through it.”
I crossed the room and sat with her, taking a deep breath before telling her everything: about meeting Max at the club, how we hooked up. I told her about the Chinese restaurant and how I’d tried to tell him not to come looking for me again but ended up letting him get me off. I admitted he was the man I’d been with at the fund-raiser, and how she was the one who made me realize it could be a good distraction to explore this new adventurous side of myself with a man who was practically a world expert on casual flings.
“But it’s more,” she said, interrupting. “In the past, what? Two months? It’s become more.”
“For me it has. I think for him, too. Maybe.”
“BB saw the pictures this morning,” she said, wincing. “I freaked out, because I tried to hide it, but he saw the Post outside the subway station.”
“Oh no.”
She smiled a little. “Honestly, he seemed more worried about my reaction. But he said he knows Max, and if he’s promised he’ll be with only you, he will. Good thing, because if he hurts you he’ll be one appendage short, if you know what I mean.”
“That’s not the problem,” I said. “Which I realize is ironic because”—I pointed to my chest—“hello, cheated on for six years straight. What bothers me more is that I didn’t want to want someone. This was supposed to be for me. And what if he likes me because I’ve been clear about what I don’t want from him. I’ve given him a goal: make me want him. I don’t think he’d ever admit that, maybe he’d never even realize it, but I worry that he’s not used to someone setting limits with him. That might be the lure: the challenge.”
She shrugged and spread her hands in front of her. “I’m the first to tell you that there’s a first time for everyone, and everything. Have you told him how you feel?”
There was a crash from the outer office, followed by George’s frantic shout of “Incoming!”
Max burst through the door, George hot on his heels.
“Does he ever listen?” George asked me.
“Not usually,” Max answered, stopping short when he saw the paper already in my hands. “You’ve seen it.”
“Yep,” I said, tossing it to the desk.
He crossed the room, his expression grim. “Look, it’s not a very good picture, I doubt—”
“It’s fine,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I—”
“Well, I wouldn’t say fine,” Chloe interrupted, rounding the desk. She crossed her arms and stood between us. “I’ll agree it’s not the best picture, but I knew it was you. Bennett, too.”
“As did I,” George volunteered, hand raised.
“Why are you even still here?” I asked, glaring. “Go to work.”
“Touchy,” George said, pushing away from the wall.
“Well, well.” At the sound, every head in the room turned in the direction of the door. “Glad everyone could make it,” Bennett said as he walked in, looking like he’d won the biggest, most ridiculous man-bet of all time. “Nice photo, Stella. A bar?”
I felt my eyes go wide. “What, the eighteenth-floor stairwell would be better?”
His head whipped to Chloe. “Seriously, Chlo? You told her that?”
“Of course I did.” She waved him off with an impatient hand, and beside her, Max laughed.
“You did that, Ben? Shagged your intern at work?”
“A few times,” Chloe said in a stage whisper.