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He was silent, and I thought for a moment he would deny me. “Text me the address. I’ll get it delivered.”
“Thank you.” I meant it. “That’s a big help.”
“Getting food through customs? That’s easy. Listen, Hope…”
I knew what he was about to say, and I didn’t want to hear it. “Thanks.” I hung up. Quickly, I texted him the address. I’d never be able to fix things with Max, a near stranger, who was out there thinking I was a ruiner of lives. I sat back and closed my eyes. I counted to ten. And then I did it again. As many times as it took.
When I got home, I locked my door four times. That wasn’t too bad. Four, I could manage. If it got to six, I was in trouble, but four was still reasonable. I had my own thresholds for how far out of control I could get. Four still worked. It did.
The sun came up,as it always did, after another bad night. I made plans to go out for tapas with my group of friends that night. I used to love going with Layla once a week before she moved to Washington state. Tapas with other people just wasn’t the same as with her.
Love you too.
I smiled at Layla’s text. Okay, she was averaging twenty-four hours to return a text. That wasn’t too bad. I shook my head. I had to live vicariously through her. The chances I would ever have kids were small. I was too fucked up to maintain a relationship, let alone a baby. Who would want to go through life on the crazy train with me?
I dressed up in a pair of black pants, since I intended to stop by my office to pick up my mail. Snail mail drove me crazy.Couldn’t we just do everything online by now? Did I really need a catalog of stuff I was never going to order?
Well, actually, I might order something. If it was really cool.
I grabbed my keys, locked up behind me, and headed to Midtown. Usually, I met with new clients at my office, but most of my existing clients were happy to talk to me on the phone. Muffy preferred to meet there still, and I didn’t mind. She was a character, and there were fewer and fewer of them in my life.
My father’s notoriety could have sunk me. It did the opposite. Sure, I was a bit of a spectacle when people first met me, but they quickly discovered I knew the right people and I was good at raising money for their charity of choice.
I stepped into the car, smiling at my security. They were such nice people, but sometimes I didn’t feel like talking to them, and it was like I hated the idea of being rude. It was hard tosee people every day, particularly if you hadn’t hired them. They would risk their lives for me because Michael paid them and Zeke paid him to see to my protection.
Did other people really live their lives without being under constant surveillance?
We made it to my office, and I headed inside. The air conditioning was cold, and I wished that I’d remembered my sweater. I never did. That was okay. I was there to get my mail and leave, it wasn’t like I had to sit and work in the chill air.
I bent to pick the mail up from where it fell all over the floor of my office when they’d pushed it through the mail slot. I gave it a cursory look as I picked it up. Bills and magazines, as predicted. I yawned. Some things could be counted on, and bills were certainly one of those things.
A masculine voice said, “Sir, you’re going to have to stop right there while I ask Ms. Radford if she wants to see you.”
“Oh,” a deep, angry voice answered him. “She’ll talk to me. Now.”
I peeked my head around the door to confirm my instant suspicion and discovered Max. What was he doing at my office? I leaned against the doorframe into the hallway where both Theo and Luke stopped him from approaching me. The men eyed each other like they were making silent assessments I wasn’t privy to. Their body language tipped me off. I was really good at telling when someone was about to get violent. Or was thinking about it. None of them were there yet, but they were close.
My survival skills were pretty darn honed these days.
“He can come in.” I motioned toward my office. “Come on, Max. You’re welcome.”
I stepped out of the way, proud because I managed to keep my cool.
Theo stepped out of the way, and Max stormed into my office. When he would have closed the door, I shook my head. “Stays open. Thanks.”
I didn’t like to be closed in with people I didn’t know. If he fought me about it, well, I had two security people in the hallway who would ensure the door remained open. Fortunately, he didn’t. He just spun around to look at my office itself.
“You don’t have any furniture.”
Not true. I had a desk. “I’m almost never here. When I am, this is all I need. How can I help you, Max? I don’t believe you can bar me from being everywhere in Manhattan. I have every right to be in my own office.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I spent all night and hours into this morning trying to figure out how those peaches suddenly, magically made it to the restaurant on time. It finally dawned on me that it had to be you. It was, wasn’t it, Hope? After Dano told me that we couldn’t get them, you did whatever rich person thing and got those fucking peaches delivered.”
He seemed awfully upset for a man who’d gotten what he wanted—the peaches arrived in time, after all. “Were they rotten? In bad shape? Bruised?”
He blinked. “No, they were fine.”
“Then what is the problem?” I picked up some papers from my desk to give myself something to do with my hands. What were they? No clue, but it didn’t really matter because I used them as a prop.
