“In a way. In nature, you either evolve or die. I decided to evolve.”
He clicks something in his hand, and I hear a beeping sound. Then, all of the lights come on at once, momentarily blinding me, and I shield my eyes. When I lower my arm, I see the vast warehouse space has been transformed into a trendy, urban office space. On the wall behind the front desk is a stainless-steel logo.
“Romance Central?”
Max steps forward and takes my hands. “In your article, you said that everyone deserves to feel priceless at least once in their life, and I couldn’t agree more. By myself, I could only service a dozen clients, but if I pass my skills along to others ... I can make a whole army of Mister Romances. And Miss Romances. I think there are a lot of guys out there who could also use some self-esteem therapy, too.”
“Wait, you’re ... franchising?”
He smiles. “In a way. I’m going from a one-man operation to a corporation. Taking tailor-made romance to the masses.”
The relief I feel is so powerful, tears prickle my eyes. “For weeks I thought we were heading toward this terrible apocalypse where you’d have to choose between me and your work, and I didn’t stand a chance.”
He stares at me like I’m insane. “Eden, if it comes down to choosing between you and anything else on this planet, I’d choose you ... every single time.” He comes over and takes my hands, and all of a sudden I feel stupid for having ever doubted him. “Everything else in my life is optional, except you. You’re essential.”
I look at our intertwined hands. “Well, now you’re just trying to make me cry.”
He pulls me into his arms and hugs me and after I’ve pulled myself together he says, “Would you like a tour?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He leads me into the office area where the whole space has been fitted out with an eclectic mix of secondhand furniture, and I’m positive I’m not nearly hip enough to be here. The design has made use of the original brickwork, and the rest of the spaces have been defined by tall glass walls.
“How on earth did you do all of this so fast?”
“We had a lot of help. Remember Vivian from Valentine’s Foundation?”
“Of course.”
“She’s the head of a multi-million-dollar construction and property development company. She brought in her whole crew. Come look.”
He shows me around, and apart from several large offices, there’s a central kitchen, a spacious training room, and at the back, beneath the huge paneled windows is a giant conference room complete with a long wooden table, at the end of which is something underneath a black cloth. The rest of the table is covered in headshots of a huge range of men and women, all different ethnicities and ages, and judging by some of the bios, sexualities.
Max gestures to them. “This is our first batch of Romance Central candidates. All experienced actors. All decent people. Training starts next week. Dyson will take over all of my existing clients. And with so many more people being available for dates, we can charge less and still stay financially viable.”
He clicks the control in his hand again, and a large screen on the wall lights up with a slick-looking website. “Toby did the site for us and then sneakily inserted the link to it on the bottom of your article. We’ve had over three-hundred inquiries since it went live.”
I feel myself gaping. What he’s achieved is astonishing. “Where did you get the money to do this?”
He pulls away the black cloth. Underneath is a scale model of the warehouse, fully developed into a trendy apartment complex, with Romance Central taking pride of place in the ground floor. “Presenting New York’s latest apartment-warehouse development. Vivian and I are now partners. I’ve signed over fifty percent ownership of the warehouse, and she’s taking care of all construction costs, as well as giving me a healthy chunk of the profits. It’s going to take about a year for all the construction, and we’ll have to relocate the offices for part of that time, but the bottom line is still impressive. When all of the apartments are sold, I should be able to clear my family’s debts and even have a little left over.”
He stares at me as he waits for my reaction, and it’s clear how nervous he is. I don’t know why, because surely he knows I thought he was brilliant before all of this. Now, I’m convinced he’s an actual genius.
I walk over and put my arms around his neck. “Max, this is ... unbelievable.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close. “So, you approve?”
I stretch up on my toes and kiss him gently, beyond grateful he found a way for us both to get what we want.
When I pull back, he lets out a shaky breath. “Okay ... I’m going to take that as a yes.” He slides his hand along my neck as he kisses me again, more intense this time. It’s so thrilling, it feels as if it’s the first time all over again, and in a way, it is. This is us with nothing to hide. No secrets, or agendas, or characters. Just the relentless need to be together.
“So, we’re alone here?” I ask as I push his jacket off his shoulders.
He tugs his tie free and throws it on the floor. “Totally alone.”
“Was this by design?”
“Maybe. This is a beautiful table. It would be a shame not to christen it and celebrate this new chapter in our lives.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
We both moan when he kisses me hard and lifts me to sit on the edge of the table. Then, he cups my cheek and kisses down my neck, and I lean back, pushing up to meet him.
“So,” I say, my voice tight as my body explodes with sensation. “Your official title will be, what? Mister Boss-Man? Big Daddy Romance?”
“I don’t really care, but feel free to call me sir any time.” He finds the tie of my wrap-dress and tugs at it. “The main thing is that the only woman I’ll be dating will be you.” He pulls open the dress and makes an animalistic noise as he stares at my body. “Dammit, you’re too gorgeous to be real.” He kisses down my neck, nipping and sucking as he goes.
“One more very important question,” I say, barely able to breathe as he kisses my breasts, then down to my stomach. “Will you have free and easy access to the costumes?”
He stops and looks up at me. “Do you have something particular in mind?”
I shrug. “Well, we could start with the Officer and a Gentleman uniform and work our way through the rack.”
“I knew I should have used that on one of our dates.”
I urge him to straighten up, then start on the buttons of his shirt. He watches me with barely restrained energy, like a panther waiting to pounce.
“Just out of interest,” he says. “Which of my characters was you favor –”
“Kieran.” I pull his shirt open and run my fingers over his broad chest, then trail down to the ridges of his abs. God, he feels amazing.
“Wait a second.” He grabs my hands and stops me. “Don’t you want think about that for more than half a second?”