“It wasn’t,” Steve, who had arrived at our group, put in.
“What happened?” Mom asked.
“Bottom line, he ain’t leavin’ mainly because Niles arrives tonight and they want Nina to ‘appear’, Lawrence’s word, at breakfast at the hotel tomorrow morning,” Steve explained and my eyes locked on Max as my heart skipped a beat and this one wasn’t happy.
“What?” I whispered.
Max got close and his hands came to either side of my neck. “You ain’t goin’.”
“But –”
“Fuck ‘em, playin’ these games with your head.”
“Max.”
“Nina, they can want whatever the fuck they want, that doesn’t mean you have to do it.”
I shook my head, short, dazed shakes and then it hit me.
So I said, “I’ll go.”
Max’s brows drew together dangerously and he asked, “What?”
“I’ll go.”
His hands tightened on my neck and I felt his body tighten with them. “Why?”
“Because, it’s the right thing to do.”
“Nina –”
“No, Max,” I cut him off, hooking my thumbs in his belt loops at the sides of his jeans and I explained, “You don’t break up with someone over e-mail or over the phone. You do it face to face. No matter what you may think, Niles isn’t a jerk, he never hurt me, lied to me, cheated on me, hit me. He deserves me breaking up with him face to face.”
“Your father’s pretty convinced he and Niles can talk you into changing your mind,” Max informed me.
“Well, they’re wrong.”
“Duchess –”
I interrupted him, this time by leaning into him and I said softly, “Max, they won’t because you’ll be there with me.” His body jerked with surprise as his head tilted to the side. “And Mom,” I went on. “And Steve. You’ll all take care of me.” I leaned in closer and promised, “It’ll be okay.”
His fingers at my neck tightened again and he whispered, “Baby.”
“You’ve done a lot for me but can I ask you to do this too?”
Max’s eyes held mine for a long moment before he replied softly, “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”
This was what he said, what he meant was he wouldn’t allow it to happen any other way. I knew that, he knew it too but it was nice the way he said it.
And there it was again. Now I was inviting Max’s deeper involvement in my life. What was wrong with me?
“What’s all this?” Cotton asked and Mom moved toward him, deciding she would stop fawning and start flirting (innocently, which was Mom’s way and Steve thought it was annoyingly hilarious or hilariously annoying, I couldn’t ever tell which) and hooked her arm through his.
“Coffee first, you need at least coffee before any conversation commences about Lawrence Sheridan,” Mom told him.
They started walking to the front door, everyone moving in that direction, when Max’s head turned toward the road then everyone’s heads turned to the road. This was because three cars were speeding up it.
I stared at the racing convoy. Brody’s Subaru, followed by Becca’s sporty, red, mini-SUV and trailing was a police SUV.
“What now?” Max muttered as he slung an arm around my shoulders and headed us both down the steps. For my part, without much choice, I wrapped my arm around his waist and hooked my thumb in his side belt loop.
Brody stopped his Subaru on a spray of gravel and was out of it practically before it came completely halted.
“You ain’t answerin’ your cell and your line’s fuckin’ engaged,” he accused Max the instant he cleared the door.
“What –?” Max started but Brody interrupted him.
“You seen Mindy?” he asked, his eyes were locked on Max but I felt something grip my insides, something vicious.
“No, why?” Max answered, I heard his tone had an edge and watched Becca pull in behind Brody’s Subaru.
“She call?” Brody went on. He’d walked swiftly and come to a stop in front of Max and me. His face was a stony mask of worry.
“No, Brody, what’s happening?” Max replied. His body had gone tight and alert at my side.
“You?” Brody turned to me. “See or hear from her?”
I shook my head and said, “No.”
“Jesus, Brody, what the fuck’s happening?” Max asked, his voice getting hard, not with anger, with what I saw in Brody’s face.
Brody reached behind him and pulled a folded piece of paper out of the back pocket of his jeans as Becca made it to us and Jeff was jogging up.
“Slipped that under the door to her apartment while I was out this mornin’,” Brody told Max as he handed him the paper.
But I was staring at Becca’s face and Becca was staring at the paper like it was going to grow claws and strike out at her and that grip on my insides not only tightened, it twisted.
I forced my eyes away from Becca, looked down at the paper in Max’s hand and read.
Brody,
I know what you’re going to think but you don’t know.
I can’t get clean.
And I need to get clean.