AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Embrace what?” Lily says in an icy tone.
“Your relationship.”
I look at Lily, then at Tanya, who looks at Lily. She’s staring at the ceiling. “Holy crap, I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispers.
Her bottom lip trembles and her eyes look glassy, like she’s about to cry. A panicky feeling wells in my chest and out of instinct, I reach for her hand across the table.
She snatches it away while glaring at me. “Tanya, can Max and I have a moment to talk in private, please?”
“Sure. I have to use the ladies’ room anyway.” She scrambles out, leaving the open laptop and that damned photo behind.
When the flimsy door clicks behind Tanya, Lily stands up and cries, “Max, what the hell are we doing?”
I throw my hands in the air. “I thought we were trying to have a relationship again.”
“Is that what you want? Do you really want to ruin your career, and further ruin my reputation, for this?”
I’m shocked she’s so angry, and my mouth hangs open.
She slumps into a seat. “I found out about this photo on my way here when I was in the car. Then I was swamped with media shouting awful questions at me. And I can’t bear to call my father back. I wonder if . . .”
Her voice trails off.
“You wonder what?”
Her face looks so anguished, so conflicted, I feel like she’s going to break my heart all over again.
◊
Lily
Was this a mistake?
Those are the words I can’t say aloud. I’m still shaken by the barrage of questions, the pointed barbs, the shouts and shoving, the reporters’ bodies brushing into me.
“Babe,” Max says softly. “Take a breath.”
My instinct tells me to rage, to be angry, to blame him. He’s not to blame, though. If anything, I am. But I follow his directions, close my eyes, and inhale. Twice. I detect notes of sawdust and paint in the air, because everything in this prefabricated office smells like it recently came out of a furniture-store box. Max’s aftershave is also a faint scent, and if we weren’t here in the office I’d crawl in his lap and bury my nose in his neck so I could breathe in his essence.
“Can I hold your hand?” he asks.
I open my eyes and nod. He reaches for my hand and covers it with his.
“I’m not going to lie. This won’t be easy. This weekend will be a circus. We’re going to get a lot of questions. But we’ll get through this, I promise.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re the Iceman,” I retort in a too-sarcastic voice.
“You don’t think some of these questions hurt? They do. But I’ve learned to block it out. That’s what you need to do. That’s not reality.” He points to the door with his free hand. “This is reality. Me and you. We’re all that matters.”
His certainty is reassuring, but only to a point. There’s the issue of my father. “I don’t know.”
“I do. I’ve been in the press a lot. Involved in a lot of scandals, some big, some small. It comes with the territory. Eventually they’ll move on to something and someone else.”
“I’m aware of that. It’s that—” My frustration steals the words from my mouth. I hate how I’m crying and a mess when he’s so calm and collected.
“Talk to me.” His voice is soft and encouraging.
I shake my head. “Don’t you have practice?”
