“And have any of you developed real feelings for Max?” I ask. “I mean, it must be hard to let go of the emotions he brings out in your dates, right?” Despite my knowledge he’s playing me, I can’t deny he knows how to press all of my buttons. “Does the euphoria from the romance become an addiction?”
Some of them laugh, then Candice says, “Sure, it’s an amazing feeling to be the center of the universe of a man like Max, and there’s no doubt he’s incredible at knowing just how far to push, but none of us is fooling ourselves that it’s real. For those of us who’ve had money our whole lives, we’re used to men pretending they love us to get their golden ticket. It happens all the time. Max gives us the adrenaline rush of that kind of attention without any of the strings.”
“Or alimony payments,” Marla says with a laugh.
I’m about to ask another question when Vivian appears beside Marla and smiles at me. “Ladies, I’m sorry to interrupt the stallion appreciation society, but I’m afraid I have to steal Miss Crane.”
Several highly arched eyebrows are raised, including Marla’s. “Do you happen to have a date tonight, Eden?” In a strange twist, she seems excited for me.
“Uh, yes, actually.”
“I was wondering who he’d bring to this event. He helped organize it, you know.”
Actually, I didn’t know.
She leans over to me. “Enjoy yourself. Try not to think too much. You’re a queen. Let Max treat you like one for a change. Goodness knows, we’ve all had our fill of being treated like part of the furniture.”
That statement stays with me as I smile at her and bid the ladies goodnight. I must admit to myself that I underestimated them. I figured they’d all be rich and bitchy, but they seem determined to support each other, and Max is the glue that binds them all together.
As I leave, I tell Joanna I’ll talk to her later before following Vivian toward the stairs.
“Did you get what you needed, Miss Crane?”
I reach into my purse to turn off my voice recorder. “You knew those ladies were there when you stood me next to them, didn’t you?” She smiles but doesn’t answer. “And from your stallion comment, I’m assuming you know all about Max and his extracurricular activities.”
She stops and turns to me. “Who do you think set him up with his client base in the first place?”
I do a mental jaw drop. “You ... manage him?” I never even considered that Max would have a pimp. Or, more accurately, a madam.
She laughs. “Hardly. Max is capable of managing himself. I merely suggested there was a definite market for his talents and introduced him to some of my friends. He did the rest.”
“And how did you learn about his talents in the first place?”
She looks down at my purse. “Do you want this on record?”
“Is that okay?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if it wasn’t.”
After I turn the recorder back on she says, “A few years ago, I was at my lowest point. I won’t go into all the details, but the short story is that my husband of thirty years informed me he’d never loved me and then left me for a woman half my age.”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was the best thing that ever happened to me; but at the time I couldn’t see that. Everything I’d taken for granted about my life was destroyed. Then one night I was drowning my sorrows in a bar downtown where Max was bartending. I don’t know how he could tell I was struggling, but he could. He spent the rest of the night trying to make me feel better.”
“Did he succeed?”
She laughs softly. “Remarkably, yes. I’ve never considered myself vulnerable to the charms of beautiful young men, but he wasn’t just handsome. He was also wickedly intelligent and one of the most caring souls I’d ever met. That night, within the space of a few hours, he made me realize that my husband was a moron for letting me go, and I was better off without him.”
“How did he do that?”
She narrows her eyes a little. “I still don’t know. But he did. Over the following weeks, whenever I’d feel down, I’d go the bar and see Max. He was my human booster shot of self-esteem. On those nights, I tipped him well. He’d resist, of course, but I insisted. From there, I started recommending that bar to my friends who were struggling. Max became very popular, very quickly.”
“So how did he transform from Max the friendly bartender into Mister Romance?”
She hesitates then says, “When we became friends, he admitted to having some issues of his own. He wasn’t in a good place emotionally or financially, and I realized he’d have to make a change in order to get ahead. The concept for Mister Romance seemed a good way to capitalize on his skills. Thankfully, he agreed.”
“What sort of problems was he having?” This is the first time I’ve heard any hint that Max isn’t the perfectly put-together cover model he always seems to be. I’m intrigued to hear he may have a jaded past.
“That’s not my story to tell. And besides, I’ve been gabbing long enough. If we don’t wrap this up, he’ll come looking for you, and the character he’s playing tonight doesn’t take kindly to being kept waiting.” She points toward the stairs. “Head on down. He’s at the bottom. And he’ll probably kill me for telling you this, but he’s been anxious to see you all week.”
I click off the recorder and close my purse. “Why are you helping me? If I end up publishing this story, it would ruin everything you’ve helped him build.”
She touches my arm. “I don’t know you, Eden, but from what I can tell, you’re a decent person. I trust that after you have all of the information about Max, you’ll make the right decision.”
With that, she pats my arm and heads off to the other side of the balcony.
*
I take a breath as I absorb everything I’ve learned tonight. Max wasn’t kidding when he said he’d give me access. I’ve gone from an information famine to a feast, and it’s going to take a while for me to digest it all.
I smooth my dress and head down the stairs. As I turn onto the landing, my breath catches when I spy Max. He’s a few yards away from the bottom of the stairs, talking to a beautiful woman in black. I stop short and grab the railing when the full force of his appearance hits me.
Dear God. I’m in trouble.
There’s no denying that Max is an attractive man no matter what he wears, but tonight in that laser-sharp dinner suit, with his hair slick and neat, pure, undiluted sex rolls off him in waves. I don’t have the words to describe how entirely screwed I am.
I take a couple of calming breaths. Predictably, they don’t work. It doesn’t help that whenever I’m hit with a bout of dizzying attraction to Max, it’s accompanied by an equally strong amount of panic. Perhaps the ladies upstairs were right; I need to surrender to this feeling rather than fight it. But will that make being around him less debilitating? Is it possible for me to embrace the attraction without involving my locked-down emotions?