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“Bet that deck was rigged. I should’ve played on the main casino floor.”
“Somehow I don’t think you’ll be poverty-stricken from a few thousand.” His face reflected a memory Max never probed. They’d met on a yacht in Greece, where Max had his eye on a pretty princess trying to buck her overprotective daddy. Problem occurred when Sawyer swept in with the same intention. Max won the fight and the princess. He dumped her the next day, and both men ended up with a few bruises, a hangover, and a friendship that lasted.
When he discovered Sawyer knew Mama Conte, genuine like turned into deep affection, and they’d remained close throughout the years. But other than Sawyer’s success and lack of parents, Max knew nothing about where he’d come from. Fortunately, he didn’t give a crap. As he learned from experience, a past does not make a man’s future.
“Any other plans while you’re here?” Sawyer asked. “Other than my smoking you out of your money?”
“You wish. Dinner, some gambling, and letting off some steam with a companion.”
Sawyer arched a brow. “A particular woman?”
An image of Carina flashed before him. He deliberately took a puff of his cigar. “No. It’s better that way.”
Sawyer nodded. “Usually is. No one gets hurt and the ride is all pleasure. Still, something tells me you’re disturbed about something.”
Max snorted. “Don’t use your witch senses on me.”
“You must be afraid of them for a reason. Shall I set you up with someone?”
A grin tugged at his lips. “I can get my own women, Sawyer. I don’t need your sloppy seconds, but thanks for the offer.”
“You can only dream to have a shot at my rejects. Remember that time in Paris? I set you up with a model and you couldn’t close the deal.”
“I liked your date more.”
“So? I brought her home that night.”
“Yeah, but she slept with me the next weekend.”
“Bastard.”
Max laughed at the insult that held no heat. Sawyer had been his partner in many female escapades, all for the lure of the close and the prospect of pleasure. An odd emptiness pulsed in his gut. Ever since Carina bounded back into his life, he’d felt most of his relationships and actions were . . . flat. She made everything more vibrant and meaningful. What was wrong with him?
“Sawyer?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever want . . . more?”
His friend restacked the cards and neatened the pile of chips. “More what?”
Feeling ridiculous, he shrugged. “You know. More from women. More out of life.”
He paused in his shuffling and considered the question. “Not yet. I hope to one day, though. Why, Max? Do you?”
He pushed the emotion aside and deliberately laughed it off. “No, just wondering. I better go.”
“Yes, I will make arrangements to see you in a few hours when I can get the second half of your money.”
Max stubbed out his cigar. “What do you Americans say? Ah, yes, dare to dream.”
Sawyer’s laughter echoed through the room.
• • •
Three hours later, Max discreetly straightened his tie and asked the associate to check the air conditioner. Perspiration prickled on his skin under the designer suit and caused an uncomfortable itch. He tried to keep it together and get his head back in the game. Opening up a bakery in Vegas was a game changer, and he intended to succeed. After all, business was his heart and soul—the only item in his life that elicited a bone-deep satisfaction and pride. He’d craved that feeling his whole life as he scrambled to prove he was worthy. Just because his father didn’t think of him as enough didn’t mean he had to believe it. His mama showed him love and support every day. Damned if he’d disappoint her by becoming a screwed-up man in therapy moaning about a parental abandonment as if it was an excuse to fail.
The problem was his concentration. Every time he focused on business or distracted himself with a game in the casino, her ridiculous offer sang in his ears and mocked his sanity. One night. And no one would have to know.
But he’d know. Could he live with the guilt? Would that one night set off a series of horrible events to punish him for thinking with his penis instead of his brain?
The meeting began and rolled on. Max knew Sawyer and his team were interested, even with the famous chef at the Venetian who did all the wedding catering. The consideration of a bakery in this hotel spoke volumes, though Max realized the Venetian targeted the casual buyer rather than catering. He made a note to double-check with Michael, but figured the exposure from a pedestrian store may give them a bit of variety. It would be a great testing ground. First he’d need to calculate the statistics of crowds and buying habits, and crunch some numbers.
Carina kept her mouth shut, took notes, and listened intently. He began to wrap it up when Sawyer swung his attention across the table. “Signorina Conte, it’s a pleasure to meet Michael’s sister. I look forward to working with you and Max in the future.”
She smiled. Her face lit up with a natural depth of emotion that still fascinated him. As if she invited every person inside her soul for a visit, not caring if he was worthy. Max always felt special when she bestowed her attention, and fiercely protective of others looking to steal a piece of her. “Thank you, Mr. Wells. I think La Dolce Maggie would be a perfect fit for the Venetian, and look forward to moving to the next step.”
Max let out his breath and stood. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. We need to crunch some numbers and will get back to you on your offer.”
“It’s a fair one, Maximus.” Sawyer’s tone rolled soothingly as he shook his hand. “We cannot give up our specialized catering but think you’ll do well profit-wise with a store in the lobby.”
Max nodded and kept a worried expression. “I appreciate it, but I’m not sure it’s enough money for the gamble.” Taking the first offer on the table was ridiculous, and both men knew it. Both also knew the game very well. Max grabbed the papers, snapped up his briefcase, and—
“Actually, Max, I think the offer was quite generous.” Carina stepped up to them with a thoughtful look. Max froze, mentally reaching out to her and praying she didn’t blow it. Knowing her incredible talent for figures, she’d already done the stats. Max forced a laugh and gripped her arm.
