Chapter Twenty-Five

The alarm on my phone went off at 8:00 a.m. on Saturday morning. If my body weren’t so blissed out from multiple orgasms, I probably would have thrown it across the room. Instead, I just flicked it off and cheerfully swung my legs over the side of the bed.

Max raised his head, blinking. “Who are you and what have you done with Tess?”

I giggled. Me! Giggling before noon on a Saturday. Unprecedented. “Kat’s going-away brunch is today. I have all sorts of sisterly duties to attend to.”

He lay back down and burrowed under the covers. “Note taken. Tess is allowed to be disturbed from weekend sleep for Stan’s Donuts and for her sister. Period.”

I agreed with a vehement nod. “All other causes are suspect.” Bounding into his bathroom, I made myself walk-of-shame presentable. It was kind of nice how his apartment was only four blocks from mine. Sleepovers were going to be so convenient.

I pulled on my trench coat and propped the Puss in Boots hat on Max’s kitchen counter to make him laugh later as he drank coffee. Actually, on that note, I took two minutes to figure out his coffeemaker and started it. Now when he got up for the day, there’d be a full pot waiting. I stuffed the rest of my silly costume back in my bag. That outfit was definitely going to make a reappearance, but when Max least suspected it.

I poked my head into the bedroom one last time before I left. He was on his side, facing the door, eyes closed. For having spent most of the night intertwined, the urge to touch him in some way right this second was surprisingly strong. But I didn’t want to wake him.

“Kiss me good-bye,” he said grumpily, without opening his eyes.

My face split into the world’s sappiest grin, and I obeyed. It was a sweet, soft, chaste, close-mouthed kiss, but my pulse still sped off like a racehorse. I gave in to the need to stroke the back of his head, feel his hair on my fingers, the warmth of his neck against my hand.

His eyes opened as I finally pulled away. All grumpiness had vanished. His lips were curved and his gaze looked as warm and dreamy as mine felt. Good God, if I had seen two people looking at each other like this on the street, I would have wanted to punch them in their dopey faces.

He tugged my ponytail and then let his hand drift to the base of my spine. During the night, he’d often traced his fingers over the design of my tattoo. “Have fun today. I know how important she is to you.”

My breath caught in my throat. I loved how he understood. I’d never said to him, “Kat is a huge part of my world, and I’m so happy for her but semi-devastated that she’s moving,” but with his intelligent and sympathetic eyes on my face right now, it was clear he knew anyway.

“Would you want to come?” The words popped out on their own, surprising me almost as much as they did him. As his sleepy eyes sharpened, I backtracked immediately. “Never mind. I’m sure you’re bus—”

“I’d love to.”

We’d decided to hold Kat’s farewell brunch in a private room at an Italian restaurant on the north side of the city. After a quick stop at my apartment to shower and put on a knee-length and long-sleeved purple dress, I gathered up a bunch of Kat in Chicago photos I’d printed and stopped by the florist for the arrangements I’d ordered to decorate the room.

I arrived at the restaurant before anyone else and took twenty minutes to arrange the flowers and photos. When my mom and Kat walked in the room together, Kat’s eyes filled. Poor Kat was such a crier. She’d probably be weeping all day. She threw her arms around me. “It looks wonderful in here.”

Even my mother smiled and nodded. “I like your dress.” Would wonders never cease! I’d worn heels instead of my signature boots today, so maybe that’s what she actually liked.

I examined her critically. She was a bit thinner than normal, but she had a lot more color in her cheeks than when I’d last seen her in the hospital. Her eyes were clear, so either she hadn’t been crying or she’d invested heavily in Visine. Best of all, she seemed calm, not tense as if she were holding it together under duress. Good. Dr. G and the miracle of chemistry had obviously turned her in the right direction.

As Kat wandered around the room, cooing at the flowers, my mom pulled a manila envelope out of her bag. “The insurance paperwork,” she said quietly.

“Ah.” I grabbed it and stuffed it in my purse while Kat was distracted. “I’ll look at it tonight.”

She joined Kat to sip mimosas and laugh over the different pictures. How often would I actually see my mother once Kat was in San Francisco? I saw her monthly now because Kat always organized some sort of meal or outing and guilty us both into attending. But once our intrepid peacekeeper was on the West Coast, would either of us make the effort? I honestly didn’t know.

A gaggle of Kat’s sorority sisters showed up next, and I schmoozed with them until I could hand them off to my mother. A bunch of Kat’s coworkers appeared, followed by a few of her male friends who’d been in love with her for years. Poor saps. I directed them to the bar immediately. And finally…Max walked in. He wore dark jeans and a navy sweater that matched his eyes. His hair was still slightly wet from the shower.

He came straight over, kissed me on the cheek, and rested his hand on my lower back. “H-hi,” I said. I’d never liked it before when a guy had been proprietary with body language. But with Max, everything was different.

“Hi yourself,” he said, grinning widely.

“Put that smile away,” I mock-scolded. “Don’t you know that this is a going-away brunch? A sad occasion. I can’t allow someone as happy-looking as you to attend.”

Max’s grin got even bigger. “My apologies. It’s just that I had the most incredible night.”

Scenes from the two of us in his bed danced through my mind. The way he’d kissed me until I was trembling and begging. How he’d looked at me like I was a goddess when I rolled on top of him. How I’d woken up in the night to find him holding my hand.

Now I was smiling almost as big as he was. “Oh yeah?”

Now he smirked. “Yeah, I took down the servers of an internet asshole.” He blinked innocently. “What did you think I was referring to?”

Jesus, that sexy, nerdy confidence. I was a goner.

He gave a lingering look to my purple dress and heels. “I’ll always like you in the boots the best, but you’re beautiful like this too.”

My heartbeat tripped, and I smiled at him so hard that my eyes vanished into happy crinkles.

Which brought Kat to my side approximately one second later, her own eyes bright and expectant. “Kat, this is Max. Max, Kat.” I chewed on my lip. Should I have introduced him with some sort of label? Like “my friend?” Or “my coworker?” Those didn’t sound right, but we weren’t at “boyfriend” yet, were we? “The guy I’m sleeping with” was factually accurate but tacky and…less than what we were.

“This is a surprise!” Kat exclaimed. “But Tess was all blushing and bouncing about you when we had breakfast last weekend.”

Max’s lips twitched as he glanced over at me. “Is that a fact?”

“No,” I retorted. “I was blotchy because I was hot and antsy because I was hungry. It didn’t have anything to do with you at all.”

“Fair enough.” He winked at me and turned back to Kat, who was looking back and forth between our faces like she was watching a tennis match. “Congrats on your new job! I’ve heard that Starcross is an amazing place to work.”

The maître d’ pulled me aside to confirm the brunch’s schedule. The mingling and mimosas would conclude in five minutes, and then we’d all sit down for a family-style brunch. A few of the guests would give toasts halfway through the meal. Finally, the waiters would serve dessert and I promised we’d vacate their precious private room by 1:00.

When I turned around, Max was trapped with my mother, the poor guy. God only knew what kind of questions she was asking him. Probably something along the lines of: “You seem like such a nice boy; what are you doing with my hurricane of a daughter?” Hopefully, she wasn’t telling humiliating Tess stories, like the time we were all out for Easter brunch and I tripped and fell into the buffet’s carving station.

Luckily, the waiters began urging the guests to sit at the long table, and I grabbed Max’s hand to make sure he sat next to me. Kat sat at the head of the table on the other end, with my mom at her side. Good; no more interrogation. As soon as everyone was seated, I stood again and tapped my champagne glass with a spoon.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming this morning,” I said. I looked around the table and dropped my voice to conspiratorial whisper. “Does anyone but me feel like this is a terrible idea though? Does anyone think that Kat should just forget the whole thing and stay in Chicago?”

Everyone laughed and hooted. A few of her glum admirers piped up a loud “yes,” which got more chuckles. “Good, good. Glad I’m not alone,” I said. I swallowed hard. I needed to keep this short and sweet or I would lose it. Raising my glass, I said. “You are beloved, baby sister. We are so proud of you and happy for you, but we will miss you every day.”

Kat nodded furiously, tears flooding her face.

“To Kat!” I finished. The table echoed my sentiment, and I sat down, ready to eat.

“You were so good,” Max said, sounding impressed. “Were you nervous?”

“Not a bit,” I said honestly. Given the subject matter, I’d had a lump in my throat—but no nerves. Public speaking had never bothered me. It was private conversation I was bad at.

Brunch was actually quite lovely. The food was delicious, Kat looked happy, and every couple of minutes, Max would squeeze my knee under the table.

One of Kat’s coworkers was giving a long-winded toast when my phone began to buzz. I was going to send it to voice mail, but I saw it was Paul. Shit. Paul was very respectful of weekends. He wouldn’t call unless it was something important. There must have been a disaster happening to one of our clients.

I stood up, phone in hand. “Work,” I whispered to Max, and he nodded. I left the private room and walked to the front of the restaurant.

“Hello?”

“Tess, it’s Paul. I apologize for bothering you on a Saturday.” His tone of voice scared me right away. During a disaster, he always sounded hyper, speaking quickly and in short bursts. But right now, his tone was low and slow and sad.

“What’s wrong?” Oh God, maybe this wasn’t about work at all. Maybe something bad had happened to someone in his family and he was calling me because he wouldn’t be in the office. I hoped it wasn’t one of the grandkids.

“I have bad news. Cole Taggert made his phone call about Max, but he didn’t call me.” Paul paused, allowing my scrambled brain to catch up.

Shit. I’d been right in the first place. He was calling about a disaster, just a different type than I expected.

“He called Jack.” I closed my eyes. Checkmate, Cole Taggert. Sorenson probably started drooling the moment he heard Taggert’s voice.

Paul went on. “I just got off the phone with him. Not only is Max to be withdrawn from the applicant pool for the senior programmer position, we’re also terminating his temporary contract, effective immediately.”

I winced, audibly. Paul heard my whimper of protest and spoke louder. “I tried, Tess. I really did. But Taggert is a powerful man, and knowing Jack, he was thrilled to be able to do him a favor.” He sighed. “I might have had more pull in the past, but with my retirement just a couple of months away, I’m a lame duck now. I would have pushed even harder if I thought I had a realistic chance at convincing him.”

I believed him. I knew Paul enough to realize he would have argued, and I’d been around Jack Sorenson enough to know that he’d ignore anything he didn’t want to hear.

“I’m calling because I wanted your input on how to tell Max,” Paul went on. “He can’t come into the office on Monday, so it has to be this weekend. Would you prefer that I call him? Or do you want to let him know?”

Ugh. I wanted to take the coward’s way out and make Paul do it and plead ignorance to the whole damn thing. But I couldn’t. I knew about it now, and there was no way I could walk back into the party, sit down next to him, and pretend things were fine. “I’ll do it.” My voice was hoarse.

I walked over to the bar and jabbed my finger at a bottle of bourbon until the bartender got out a tumbler and started pouring. “Double,” I mouthed. The minute the glass hit the bar, I snatched it and downed it, almost all in one gulp.

“I’m so sorry, Tess,” Paul finished.

Not as sorry as I was.