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Max’s eyebrows shot up. “You know him?” He seemed surprised. Sloane wasn’t sure why that bothered her.
“I’m Detlef Marek’s personal assistant; they have dealings together and he often comes by the office.”
The four of them made small talk until they finished dinner. Sloane helped Mirabella clear the table and get dessert. She took all the plates in first, returning to collect the wine glasses. Max handed over his, their fingertips touching briefly. His eyes locked with hers. She could feel the heat that colored her cheeks as she spun around, quickly retreating to the kitchen.
“I’ll pour the coffee,” she muttered.
“You all right, Sloane? You look flushed.” Bella smirked.
“I’m fine. Must be the wine. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It could be the wine, or…It could be that fine example of a man out there.”
“Max? I don’t even know him.”
“But you want to.”
“Shut up, Bella. Even if I did want to, I’m already seeing someone.”
“Look, I mean this in the most loving way: You are a moron.”
Sloane narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Brody is a piece of shit if I ever met one, and you deserve a whole hell of a lot better.”
Mirabella stood on the other side of the kitchen island with her hands on her hips, her expression daring Sloane to disagree. Mirabella was more than her cousin—she was her best friend. Denying Brody’s affairs would be pointless since Sloane had cried on Bella’s couch just last month and it hadn’t been the first time. She had a feeling he was up to his old tricks again, but she wasn’t going to admit that to Bella.
“We’ve had our roadblocks, yeah.”
“Roadblocks? That’s what you call finding him in bed with a stripper? A stripper, Sloane.”
Sloane’s eyes burned; she couldn’t go down that road right now. It was too much. “I don’t want to talk about it tonight, Bella,” she whispered. “Please.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” She walked around the island and took Sloane in her arms. “It just pisses me off that he thinks he can do that to you.”
“I know.” Her whispered words hung between them for a moment. Sloane knew that he thought he could do those things because she always forgave him. She also knew she should leave him, only she wasn’t strong enough to actually do it. She kept hoping he would change.
“All right,” Bella said. “Grab some plates. I’ve got the pie.”
***
Max
Max looked up as the women came out of the kitchen. The smell of warm cherry pie filled the room. Biting into his slice, Max tried to keep his gaze from traveling over to Sloane. She was breathtaking. When she’d opened the front door, he’d thought he might have to pick up his lower jaw before he walked into the house. Her skin was ivory and looked softer than satin. He loved that she wasn’t artificially tanned like a lot of women he encountered in his line of work. Her honey-colored hair was loose, hanging halfway down her back. Max longed to fist his hands in it. The thought tightened his pants.Shit.He had to calm down. No way she wouldn’t notice if he had to stand anytime soon.
Sloane’s phone rang. Smiling at the screen, she quickly excused herself and hurried into the kitchen. Foster shook his head, and Mirabella gave him a small, sad half smile. Sloane’s raised voice floated in from the kitchen. They all sat quietly, trying not to be obvious about the fact they were all trying to eavesdrop. Bella worried her bottom lip, stealing glances at Foster. Foster alternated his gaze between Bella and the kitchen door. They were failing miserably at it. Max watched them quietly, wondering what could be going on to cause the concerned expression on Bella’s face. Suddenly it all became clear.
“Why not? You promised you wouldn’t miss tonight, Brody…Selfish? Me? …who is she this time? I know you’re fucking someone! I’m not stupid! …Whatever. Do what you want. You always do.”
Sloane came out of the kitchen with a fresh bottle of red wine in one hand and a glass in the other. “Sorry about that, what did I miss?”
She smiled, only this time it didn’t reach her expressive blue eyes. While Mirabella was completely put together even for an evening at home, her nails freshly painted and every hair in its proper place, Sloane was the opposite. Her polish was starting to chip, bangs that were slightly overgrown framed her face, and she wore a simple V-neck t-shirt with blue jeans. She was exactly what Max liked. She sat down, looking at Bella expectantly.
“We were just discussing going to Velvet Ropes next weekend. Are you in?”
Damn, Bella lied good. Max chuckled to himself. Velvet Ropes was the newest club to open its doors. The line to get in was always wrapped halfway around the building after eight at night, even on weekdays. Max had been there once for a job.
Sloane smoothed her hair from her face. “Sure, why not. I doubt I’ll have plans.”
