Page 23 of Lovesick

She waved a hand. “It’s too complicated. He has a son.”

“Lots of people have kids and manage to—”

“Let’s cut to the chase. He works for us. That’s another complication.”

George laughed. “You’re talking to the guy whose wife works for him.”

She waved her hand again, but with a little less enthusiasm. He had a point.

“Still, I’m not good with children.”

“Were you planning to marry him or have an affair?”

She shot her eyes up and realized he was asking a serious question.

“I’m not planning anything.” It was true. She had no plan, only whim and desire and reckless abandon. Nothing involving thinking or anything remotely like planning. That’s where all of this had gone wrong.

“My advice is to start with an affair and see where it goes from there. But,” he paused and tried for a stern look, but he was her younger brother, so it never worked with her, “wait until after the vote.”

“Sure.” She saluted him and turned back to her computer. No way was she going to let on that it was too late to wait. “Get out of here. I have things to do, inventory to order, if we want to make this event happen.” If we want to keep the family company in the family.

Boom.

Her heart fell to the bottoms of her spike heels.

That must be what this was all about. A distraction. She was using Max as a distraction from the really scary prospect of losing their family company. It was all a big fat defense mechanism. She wasn’t lovesick. She was scared shitless.

Maybe. Max in her bed, the way he looked, the feel of him . . .

Maybe not.

She needed to test her theory and then get rid of the distraction of Max, if that’s what he was. She would call him, ask to see him the next free night he had. And then she would see if, knowing that she was distracting herself from her fear of losing the company, she would still find Max irresistible. She would talk to him about the whole big scary vote and what it would mean to her, what a life-changing thing it would be to lose the family company, for Regal’s not to be Regal’s any more.

Regal Company was the Regal family. It was her identity. It was how she was raised, in the store, talking about the store, living the store. She shuddered. Then she picked up the phone.

As she punched in Max’s cell number, she kept her mind blank, going on pure instinct now. His phone rang and she tapped her perfectly manicured fingernails on her perfectly manicured desktop. It rang again and she spun her desk chair around to face the window, violently.

On the third ring, she pulled the phone from her ear, her stomach rolling in anxiety, until she finally heard his voice.

“Hello Louise.” His voice was cool, which for Max translated to cold as ice. He was normally so warm and welcoming and friendly, the contrast nearly stopped her heart.

“I . . . haven’t seen you. How are things?” How lame could a poised professional get?

“I’ve had my hands full with Tim. As you know—”

“What? Wait, no. I don’t know anything. What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t get my message.” His voice turned resigned and sad now and she wanted to run to his office and give him a hug—and much more, if she was honest with herself, but this wasn’t about her anymore.

“No. I didn’t. What’s wrong with Tim?”

“My message was what I was going to tell you when I called, which is that Tim had an emergency. Sprained his ankle playing soccer. And that I wouldn’t be able to see you for a few days.” There might have been reproach in his voice, or that could have been her conscience talking. She’d been a coward ducking his call. She should have explained her confusion, her reluctance to him. Maybe. But did they have that kind of relationship yet? She was no expert, clearly, but they’d only known each other a couple of weeks.

The intense vision of him above her, making love to her, making her feel things she’d never felt before, came over her with accusing clarity. They had the kind of relationship where they connected deeply enough to make her think of little else when she didn’t keep her mind completely occupied with work. It was getting so she didn’t want to be alone unless she was working. Hard.

“Look, I’m sorry, Max. Is Tim okay?”

“Yeah. That’s the beauty of being a kid. You bounce right back.”