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Cosima came over to join them. “Sorry but I’ve got to steal my cousin.”
“We’re done here,” Roxanne said. “See you both around.”
Cosima looped her arm through Angelica’s and led her away from Roxanne and the others.
“What the heck was that?”
“Nothing. Roxanne and I had a moment on the dance floor and I think she’s mellowed a bit toward me.”
“The first miracle… I wonder if Max is a saint?”
“No, I can reassure you he’s not,” Angelica said remembering that smoking-hot kiss they’d shared. She wished they’d had more time alone together. Before common sense kicked in for both of them.
“I want details.”
“A lady never kisses and tells.”
Cosima gave a snort and then winked at her. “I’m good with the kissing part. Are you ready to go? I think we accomplished our mission for the night.”
“I am,” she said.
They gathered their things and left the party. Cosima put on her Christmas playlist as they drove back to town and the town house they shared. For the first time in almost eighteen months, Angelica felt like there might be something to celebrate.
Chapter Four
Max spent threedays in the Los Angeles area putting out fires and talking to investors. He enjoyed the work, which kept him busy and his mind off of Angelica, but at night when insomnia hit, he found himself reliving that kiss, getting hot and hard and wanting to just get on his jet and go back to Whiskey River. Instead he jacked off, took a shower and smoked a cigar on the balcony of his Malibu home, listening to the waves and trying to convince himself that Angelica was just like every other woman he’d met.
Except the very fact that he was trying to do that was proof she wasn’t. He knew he couldn’t call or text her. It was two a.m. on the West Coast, which meant it was four in Whiskey River. Definitely not the time to reach out.
He’d asked her out but then hadn’t gotten in touch with her. She had texted her parents’ address in case he was back in town on Friday. He shoved his hand through his hair. Family. That wasn’t his scene. His family wasn’t close, not really. His mom and brother Cal had been, but theirs had been some sort of weird co-dependent closeness that neither he nor his father had understood. Max had told himself he wasn’t surprised when she’d moved back to her childhood home in Vermont and started living like a hermit after Cal’s death.
She had simply said she didn’t know how to exist in a world without Cal. Max and his father had done what they did best. Make deals, invest, start charities in his brother’s name and move on. That was what the Parrish men did, something that Cal had never really been able to do.
Fuck it.
He hated the holidays.
It made him realize that despite all of his wealth and connections he actually had very little. The Rossi family seemed like one of those loud, close families. He’d heard Nico’s stories. Had been partying with him on a yacht and seen Nico take a break to text his parents back. That was the kind of connection they had.
Not the one his mother and brother had, but something that felt like it might be supportive. But he knew it couldn’t be all great; Angelica’s viral video had proven that there was no perfect upbringing or perfect person.
Hell.
He phoned his pilot.
“Get the plane ready. I’m going back to Whiskey River.”
“Yes, sir. When are you leaving?”
“It shouldn’t take me long to get there from Malibu at this time of the morning,” he said. “As soon as you’re ready.”
“I should have the plane prepped and the flight plan logged by the time you get here,” his pilot said.
Max hung up, stubbed out his cigar and went to get dressed. He fired off a text to Reg informing him and then packed a bag. He never did well when he was alone with his thoughts. Actually that was another thing the Parrish men had in common. Cal had used drugs, his father used women and Max…well normally he used information and made plans to take over companies in the middle of the night. But now there was Angelica Rossi.
He thought it must have been her laugh that was making him think she was different or the way that she’d looked when she’d taken off that wool suit jacket. She was a bunch of different contradictions that made no sense. She was so ballsy and pushy and yet there was a softness to her.
He liked the brazen way she’d been with him but he sensed there was some vulnerability beneath the surface.
