Second to None Page 11

  “That could happen even if we both lived here.”

  “Yes, but we wouldn’t be starting with two strikes against us already.” She made herself look him in the eye. “Izzy and I have suffered two significant losses in the last three years, Jake and Aunt Ruthie. I don’t think we can handle another one so soon. It’s better not to . . . raise false hopes.”

  She meant it was better not to let the pain slice any deeper, because she already had hopes. Far too many of them. She’d let the past bleed into the present, believing she knew this new Max as well as she’d known the younger one. Yet she’d had no idea he was doing something as major as moving a thousand miles away.

  “Is that what you think I’ve been doing? Leading you on in some way?” Now he was angry.

  “No, I’ve been doing it to myself.” She softened her voice. “We think we know each other, but we don’t. Seven years is a long time, and we’ve been through major upheavals. I’ve lost a husband and a beloved aunt, as well as moving to a strange city. You’ve built a multinational company and now sold it. You’re in demand as a brilliant researcher. It’s a huge chasm already. Then consider throwing a lot of miles in between.”

  “You could move to Chicago.” His voice vibrated with yearning.

  “You know that’s not possible. My safety net, Izzy’s community and mine, are here now. In Chicago, all we would have is you. And that would put a whole different set of stresses on us.”

  “Don’t make your final decision tonight,” he said. “You’ve had a surprise. I should have told you sooner.”

  “If you’d told me sooner, I would never have come here. I would never have known what it was like to make love to you.”

  He looked shaken. “Do you regret it?”

  “Not for a second. You’ve reawakened the part of me that’s simply a woman—not a mother, not a child-care director—a part that’s been buried for too long.” She smiled. “I’ll always be grateful to you for reminding me she exists.”

  “Jake always complained about this.”

  “What?”

  “He said when you made up your mind, no amount of arguing would change it.” He brushed his thumb over her knuckles. “I didn’t believe him. Back then I didn’t understand that what drew me to you was not just your compassion but your strength. It makes you the woman I’ve wanted, but I hate it.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” The touch of his thumb made her feel like crying, because she would never feel it again. She gave him a wavering smile. “Maybe I should go home.”

  He went still. “Stay. Please. I don’t want to let you go yet.”

  “I can’t. Not like this.” She waved at the half-unbuttoned shirt she wore. It was too painful to be with him in such an intimate way when she knew it was over.

  “No, I suppose not.” He huffed out a sigh of resignation before he let go of her hand.

  She pushed back her chair and stood up. As she walked to the crumpled heap of her dress, she found herself holding together the neckline of his shirt in a futile gesture of self-protection.

  She scooped up her dress and swiveled to look for her lingerie. Max stood a few feet away, holding out her panties and her bra, his face somber. He was so stunningly handsome that she felt his beauty as a physical blow. “Th-thank you.” She took the scraps of silk and turned away so she could slip the panties on under his shirt. As she unbuttoned it, she lowered her nose to the fabric to inhale a last breath of his scent.

  When she started to let the shirt slide off her shoulders, she felt his fingers at the collar, a featherlight touch on her neck as he took it from her. Her back still to him, she pulled the dress on over her head, closing her eyes as he zipped it up without her asking. When he moved her hair aside to finish the task, he pressed his lips against the side of her neck and sent a shiver floating over her skin.

  It was pure torment.

  She spun around to face him. “Please don’t come with me in the limousine.”

  He jerked backward as though she’d slapped him. “But—”

  “One goodbye here,” she said. “That’s all I can bear.”

  He nodded, but his lips were twisted with unhappiness as he shrugged into his shirt and buttoned it. He fetched her coat and walked beside her to the elevator. When they reached the door, he thumbed the keypad to open it before he raked his fingers through his hair. “After seven years, this is it?” he said.

  Sorrow for his obvious desolation rattled in her chest. She stepped into him and rested her hands on his shoulders. “I will always remember tonight and you,” she said. Rising onto her toes, she touched her lips to his. He slid his hands into her hair on either side of her head, tilting it so he could angle his mouth against hers in a way that seared through her.

  Pulling back, she lurched into the elevator and turned to watch the doors slowly close Max out of her life.

  *

  Max sat at the table, drinking glass after glass of the wine he’d so carefully chosen for Emily. It was doing nothing to assuage the ache of her absence. The absence that would last for the rest of his life.

  He could hardly believe that she’d burst into his office a mere six days ago. He’d lived a lifetime since then, convinced he had a shot at finally grasping his heart’s desire. She’d begun to open up all the closed doors of his past, letting the fresh breeze of her understanding sweep out the ugly dirt.

  And tonight. He swallowed the rest of the wine in the glass and poured another. Tonight had gone beyond his wildest fantasies. Touching her body, being inside her, making her come. His cock stirred as he pictured her walking toward the table with nothing on but her lace-topped stockings. And what they’d done after that. Truth was, he hadn’t expected the sex to be so hot. He’d thought of Emily as sweet, even a little innocent, despite the obvious physical affection between Jake and her.

  He would never be able to get those stockings out of his head.

  Standing up, he took the wineglass with him and stared out the window.

  Emily didn’t believe in him enough to give the relationship a chance. After six days. He winced. When he considered it that way, her refusal spoke of simple common sense.

  Maybe he just wasn’t meant to be happy. Maybe the emotion was simply impossible for him. Maybe somehow Emily sensed that and ran before she got infected with the gray fog that shrouded him.

  But the hope had gotten to him. Made him think he had found his home with her. When he’d cradled her in his arms, he’d felt peace seep into his bones. It was what he’d sensed seven years ago.

  He’d made millions . . . no, billions of dollars since then. And it was doing him absolutely no good in this situation. So what the hell had been the point?

  He’d done it to try to ward off the emptiness. To surround himself with so many things that he might finally feel secure. But now he understood that it hadn’t worked.

  Now that he’d felt the real deal, he knew what he was missing. He turned and hurled the wineglass toward the fire, watching it splinter against the marble mantelpiece, the shards clinking like glass rain onto the hearth.

  Then he dropped his head into his hands and let out a long, low moan.

  Chapter 11

  “Mommy, Diego’s here with Mario.” Izzy had her hand hooked around the door frame as she swung herself halfway into Emily’s office. “He’s the first K-9 Angel. I hope he likes his crate and his new bed. Don’t you want to come see?”

  Emily had heard the buzz of excitement but figured it was just the kids prepping for the upcoming holiday party. They got very hyped up because they’d concocted the holiday-themed snacks, under the supervision of the center’s chef, and they were encouraged to invite their parents to sample their creations. In addition, there were the gifts for every child to take home, thanks to the generosity of the community merchants.

  Usually she loved the week leading up to the party, but her parting with Max three days earlier overshadowed the festive mood. Except for an outing with Diego, she�
��d holed up in her office, pleading paperwork and planning to get K-9 Angelz up and running. Which meant she needed to haul herself up and celebrate the arrival of their first dog, who would be convalescing at the center.

  Her one bright moment had been taking Diego to the pet-supply store the day before to buy all the things necessary for making Mario comfortable in his new home. She’d felt a flash of joy at seeing the boy’s usually solemn face wreathed in smiles while he chose a bright red leash and collar, shiny silver bowls, and a chewy toy. She pictured the same happiness on the faces of the other children when they met their dogs at the local animal shelter and brought them back to the center. Her heart should have danced, but it was too battered.

  Because right now she just felt sorry. For herself, because Max’s absence gnawed at her far more than it should, considering how brief their time together had been. Maybe he was right that knowing each other seven years ago allowed them a closeness beyond the usual. For six days, her world had sparkled with a sense of exciting possibility. Now it was flat and dull.

  She felt sorry for Max, because he’d looked ashen when she’d told him she wasn’t going to attempt the stresses of a long-distance relationship.

  She even felt sorry for Izzy, who wanted to hear more stories about her father from Max. Seeing how disappointed her daughter was when she told her Max was moving reinforced Emily’s conviction that she’d made the right decision.

  It didn’t feel right, though. Especially when she lay in her bed in the middle of the night, remembering how it felt to have Max’s hands on her skin. Feeling the heat flare low inside her. Wondering what it would be like to snuggle up against his hard, warm body and fall asleep at night, only to wake up cradled in his arms the next morning.

  She smacked her palms on the arms of her desk chair and shoved herself to her feet. “Let’s go!” she said, taking Izzy’s hand and heading for the main lounge.

  Izzy pulled her through the crowd of kids and staff. Diego sat on the floor beside the bed where the little dog lay, his splint wrapped in bright purple tape today. The boy allowed one kid at a time to approach and pet Mario. The dog’s tail thumped nonstop as he basked in the attention. As Izzy and Emily got to the front of the crowd, Diego waved away the next kid in line.

  “Ms. Emily, don’t . . . doesn’t he look mad fine?” Diego beamed.

  “He looks so fine that I hardly recognize him.” The former stray’s black coat shone now that he’d been bathed and fed regularly. Mario’s brown eyes were clear and alert, and he had the happy attitude of a dog who knew he was loved.

  She knelt to smooth her palm over Mario’s head. “This is a banner day. As Izzy pointed out, Mario is our first K-9 Angel.”

  Diego’s grin could have lit the whole building as he raised his voice to address his audience. “You hear that, yo? Mario be the first one!”

  The kids responded with a chorus of “Facts, yo. That be crazy. You dead-ass?”

  Emily let the slang flow without correction. Diego deserved to enjoy the moment. Watching him made her glad Izzy had dragged her out of the office.

  But it also reminded her that Max was the reason Mario could be here. The blanket of wretchedness settled over her again.

  She fought her way out from under it to smile at Diego. “I’m so proud of you for rescuing Mario. We wouldn’t have this happy, beautiful dog here without you.”

  “I learned it from you,” Diego said. “You would have done the exact same thing.”

  Emily had to swallow a surge of tears at his faith in her. “Thank you.” She didn’t tell him that she didn’t have anywhere near as much courage as he did.

  “Can I pet him?” Izzy asked.

  Emily stood and moved away to make room for her daughter. Forcing herself to stop wallowing, she walked around to inspect the holiday decorations the children had created. The artificial tree stood in the corner adorned with ornaments made from Popsicle sticks, uncooked pasta, tinfoil, and every other material the kids’ inventive minds could come up with. There were wreaths fashioned from cutout paper hands in the black, red, and green of Kwanzaa. A nine-candle menorah of blue-and-silver-painted wooden blocks stood next to a seven-candle Kwanzaa kinara. A nearly life-size Santa Claus made of fabric and stuffing lounged in one of the chairs. Paper chains in all the holiday color combinations draped the walls and windows.

  And now they had their first canine resident. Her heart twisted with regret. She wanted to text Max to tell him what his support had already done for the center and how excited the other kids were about getting their own dogs. However, she hadn’t heard from him since Sunday night, and she figured it was better that way.

  A clean break.

  *

  That night Emily was in her pajamas and brushing her teeth when she heard the ping of a text arriving on her cell phone. Her heart wobbled in her chest as she reminded herself that Max would not be texting her ever again. So she finished her bedtime washing up before strolling over to her bedside table to pick up her phone.

  The text was from Diego.

  Really cold here. Heat is broke again. Don’t want Mario to get sick.

  “Not now!” The holiday party was only three days away. Even more problematic, the holiday break from school started next week. Most of the kids counted on being at the center all day when school was out of session.

  But her most immediate concern was Diego, who couldn’t remain in the unheated building all night.

  She tapped out, Come to my house. Bring Mario with you. Windy will share her dog stuff so you don’t need to bring anything else.

  She threw on her clothes before dialing the repairman’s emergency contact number.

  “Hey, Emily, that old boiler done conked out again before I could get you a new one?” Coleman asked.

  Hearing his gravelly voice calmed her. “With its usual terrible timing.”

  “Yeah, old man winter has settled in. I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “Tell my wife that.”

  She laughed and hung up before going to tell Izzy they were having company, something her daughter considered a high treat.

  *

  The next morning in the furnace room, Coleman stood in his usual stance of hands on hips while he shook his head. “It’s well and truly dead this time.” His words came out in puffs of frozen vapor.

  Emily shoved her gloved hands in her coat pockets and fought off panic as she stared at the exposed innards of the dead furnace. “So what do we do now?”

  “I’ll put heat wraps on your pipes and hope to keep ’em from freezing.”

  “But what about a new boiler?”

  “I told you, I can’t get nothing this big in before the holidays.”

  The panic was rising in her throat. “Doesn’t someone rent emergency replacement boilers? This must happen to other buildings.”

  He shook his head again. “Other buildings replace their boilers before they reach this point. This is what you call a catastrophic failure. I’m real sorry.” He looked at her. “I’ll make some phone calls, but I don’t want to get your hopes up. You should probably be finding another place for the big party.”

  That’s when she knew what she had to do. There was only one person who could solve this problem. The man with an executive assistant who could get anything done on short notice.

  She squeezed her eyes closed as a tangle of emotions tightened in her chest. She’d already burst into his office to beg for his help once. How much worse was it to ask again after breaking up with him?

  At least this time she could pay for her favor . . . using his foundation’s money.

  She grimaced at the irony.

  “Does that estimate you sent me have all the information on it that I’d need to order a new boiler?” she asked Coleman.

  “Yes, ma’am, it does. But the earliest delivery date I could get on the equipment is ten days from now.”

  “If I can get it sooner, I promis
e you will be in charge of the installation,” Emily said.

  Jogging up the steps to her office, she pulled up the estimate on her computer. Then she took a deep breath and dialed Max’s cell phone, hoping he didn’t simply ignore her call.

  It went to voice mail, and she dropped her head onto her desk in frustration as the recording told her to leave a message. “Max, it’s Emily. This is not personal. I need your help with an emergency at the center. But we can pay for it, thanks to you. Please call me as soon as you can.”

  She disconnected and stared down at her phone’s screen. Would he delete the message without listening to it? Should she call his office number as a backup?

  No, she would send an e-mail with Coleman’s specifications attached. If he didn’t respond to that, either, she would know he wanted nothing more to do with her.

  In the meantime, she needed to borrow every space heater she could get her hands on.

  Three hours later, when she was praying the circuit breaker didn’t blow as she plugged in the fifteenth space heater, her cell phone rang.

  The caller ID said V-Chem Industries, so she hurried into an empty study room and closed the door before she answered.

  But it wasn’t Max. “Ms. Wade? This is Pauline Bennett, Mr. Varela’s administrative assistant.”

  The one Emily had shoved past to get into Max’s office. She nearly groaned out loud. “Thank you for calling me, Pauline.”

  “Mr. Varela asked me to tell you that he’s been able to locate the item you requested, and it will arrive at one o’clock today.”

  Emily nearly dropped the phone. “Oh my God, thank you so much! I can’t believe it. This is fantastic news.”

  “A crew will be coming at the same time to install it.”

  Emily thanked Pauline a few more times and then danced a jig in the corner of the room. As the relief and excitement died down, desolation rolled over her. Max wanted to avoid her so badly that he wouldn’t even call to relay the good news himself. That was a kick in the gut.

  Such a kick that she actually put her hand on her stomach, because it physically hurt.