Chapter Twenty-five

 

Friday afternoon

By the time Max and Alexa entered the Hard Rock Café, the luncheon crowd had started thinning out. He looked around at the rock ‘n’ roll paraphernalia. Guitars, shirts, autographs of everyone from the Beetles to The Grateful Dead were in abundance, in addition to T-shirts emblazoned with Hard Rock Café, New York City. Bouncers uniformly clad in red T-shirts, having little to do, hung about looking official.

Max and Alexa followed the waiter to a quiet booth—at least it was quiet for now. After taking a seat across from his daughter, he glanced around to see if anyone was going to jump up and start singing. His daughter would be disappointed if no one did.

She beamed at him, patting his hand, before speaking. “I wish Mario were here. He’s the one who told me about it.”

He cleared his throat, hating to start off with a list of rules for the summer. But since Alexa had mentioned Mario first, he thought he might as well. “About Mario. I’m not forbidding you to see him, but...”

“Daddy, you have to let me see him.” His daughter’s cheeks flushed red with pent-up teenage angst.

“All I was going to say is we have to have some rules. Mario is too old for you.”

“You were older than my mother, and you’re twelve years older than Nikki. I don’t see what difference it makes.”

“It makes a lot of difference where you are only fourteen and Mario is already eighteen. Your mother was nineteen when we fell in love. I know from experience what happens when you marry too young.”

She fixed him with a cold stare. “Are you saying you’re sorry you married my mother? Didn’t you keep loving each other?”

He paused before carefully answering her question. “I always loved your mother, but we changed and grew apart. We were having some difficulties before she died. We never had time to resolve them.” No, no time at all.

“It’s different with Mario and me.”

Mon Dieu. Was this the beginning of a total teenage rebellion or just a skirmish? “Young people always think they’ll be different. I look at you and Mario, and I see myself and your mother. Only it is worse because there is even a greater difference in your ages.”

“But, Daddy, I’m crazy about him.”

“You’re still a child,” he said in as decisive a manner as he could muster. “No matter how grown up you think you are.”

Alexa glared at him, her green eyes flashing, as she bit her upper lip.

“All I’m saying today is that we must have some ground rules.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Her words were followed with an indignant huff.

Max swallowed his pique, trying to keep his cool. His daughter was every bit as obstinate as he and Solange had been, defying and arguing every point.

Attempting to change the subject to a topic less volatile, Max picked up a menu. “What’s good?”

She chewed her lip, then flashed him a grin. “Hamburger with everything, French Fries, and a chocolate milk shake,” she announced with a definite nod of her head. “How about you? Their fries are the best, Daddy.”

The waiter appeared and took their orders, his preference not as heavy as his daughter’s. “Grilled chicken, house salad, fries and coffee.” Try as he could, he couldn’t do without the fries. They were his favorite.

“French fries and coffee? Gross, Dad, really gross.”

He permitted himself a patently fake smile, aiming it at his only child. Alexa returned one that was equally phony, all in good humor, of course.

After the waiter left, Max wondered how to bring up the subject of Nikki

“There’s something else.”

Alexa rolled her eyes in mock horror. “What now?”

“I’ve been investigating schools and housekeepers for the fall.”

“Why? Nikki—”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t think she’s happy living in the townhouse. She’s used to her privacy.”

Alexa tried to stand, but the edge of the table stopped her. “But I thought you and Nik would—”

“Enough. Remember where you are.”

“I know you love her. You have to stay together.”

He glanced around the restaurant. People were turning to stare at them. “There’s no point in discussing this further.”

His daughter huffed, blowing the curls off her forehead. “You’re the one who brought it up, Daddy. Not me.”

“My mistake. Subject closed.”

“You’ve ruined my special time with you. You’ve ruined my whole day, maybe even my whole life. I hate you.” She folded her arms across her chest and refused to meet his gaze.

Stymied, he shook his head. Who was this baffling creature sitting across from him? Had aliens abducted his little girl? Every time he opened his mouth, he only made things worse. “Alexa, be reasonable.” Somehow he needed to restore the day’s early amiability.

His daughter responded with a sullen glare, then opened her mouth, but the waiter’s approach with their lunches interrupted the beginning of another tirade.

She glanced down at the grilled hamburger and the crisp, browned-to-perfection fries. She swallowed. He watched her struggle to maintain her fit of temper. It was obvious his daughter was hungry, and the food had been prepared to her standards.

He looked at his own. The fragrance of mesquite-grilled chicken teased his nostrils, making his mouth water. Frankly, he was famished. Picking up a fork and knife, he carved a bite of chicken. He popped the tender bite into his mouth and chewed. “Mmm.” He carved another bite. “You should eat.” He motioned toward her lunch. “Mine is delicious.”

His daughter looked up, twisting her mouth, admitted, “I guess it would be a shame to waste good food like this. I mean when so many people have to go hungry and all.” Then she grinned sheepishly, picked up her hamburger with both hands and bit into the juicy sandwich.

“Mmm, this is so fab, Daddy,” she mumbled with her mouth full. “It’s really great to be home from school. Where will I go to school next year? And how long do you think Mrs. Prentice will stay with us?

He laughed, relieved her mood had changed. “Please, one question at a time. I’ve found two schools. I’ll take you to meet the headmistresses next week. As for Nikki’s mother, she may stay as long as she wishes. We have plenty of room.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I know we have plenty of room, but don’t you think Nikki seemed a little tense this afternoon?”

“Well, it’s true they have difficulties, if they’re around each other too long.”

“Yeah, like five minutes,” Alexa said, then wolfed another big bite of hamburger.

Difficult as it was to keep a straight face at his daughter’s bluntness, she was extremely accurate in her assessment of relations between Nikki and her mother. “We shall let Nikki handle her mother. It’s not for us to judge how well they do or do not get along.”

Alexa helped herself to a long fry. Amused, he approved of his daughter’s healthy appetite. She ate heartily, no signs of the eating disorders which often plagued the agency’s models. “I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I have tickets for a play tonight,” he said. “Unless you have other plans?”

“A play? I’d rather go to a concert. ’NSYNC’s new tour is in town. Can’t we go to that instead? I would die happy, if I could see them just once. They’re so hot.”

“Really?” What was happening to his little girl? She was growing up right in front of his eyes. Soon, there would be no traces left of the child. She would be a woman. Mon Dieu, but he couldn’t bear thinking about it, not now.

Max reached into his front pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Let me make a call. We’ll see about this ’NSYNC thing.” He quickly tapped in the number for Ramona, his assistant, who answered promptly.

“Ramona. Max. It appears theater tickets aren’t what my daughter had in mind.”

Ramona chuckled. “She’d probably rather see ’NSYNC.”

“Yes, that’s right. How did you guess?”

“My daughter Cyndi started whining for tickets two weeks before they went on sale. She stood in line for hours.”

“Oh, I see. You have them already. Any chance of procuring a couple for tonight’s show?”

“Sorry, but that show’s been sold out since the first day.”

“Well, do your best anyway. Call in some favors, if you have to.”

“Okay, but it’s not going to do much good.”

“Thank you. I’ll be very high on my daughter’s list, if you can come up with a couple.”

There was silence on Ramona’s end of the line. “Don’t you need at least three? I mean surely she would like to take a friend. Or better yet, four?”

“Three, if you can, otherwise, I’ll take whatever you can come up with.”

Ramona snickered. “That’s me, boss man. The miracle worker. No job too big. By the way, it’s going to take a miracle.”

He gave Alexa an uneasy glance. “All right. I’ll hear from you later? Just call my cell.”

“One way or another.”

His daughter’s eyes widened in anticipation. She took a sip of her milkshake, still questioning him with her eyes.

“Ramona’s working on it. Nothing’s certain yet.”

“I’ll simply die, if she does.” She pushed her plate away. “I can’t eat another bite. I’m too excited.”

Once again, the thought he might not survive the next five years crossed his mind. Nikki knew exactly what she was talking about when she warned him. He didn’t remember putting his parents through such ordeals. Now, his daughter sat across from him, grinning and squirming in anticipation over seeing a band of hot guys perform.

His appetite deserted him. He caught the waiter’s attention and motioned for the check. After signing it, he turned to his daughter. “Ready? Let’s go see how Nikki and her mother are doing.” He winked and privately hoped murder hadn’t been committed in his absence.

Alexa smiled widely. “Daddy, you are so bad. Nikki should punish you.”

Being around Nikki without the ability to pursue her was punishment enough. Instead, he gave his daughter what he hoped was a stern, no-nonsense fatherly expression.

Together they left the restaurant, at truce for the present. How long it would last, he had no idea. But if today was any indication...not very long.

***

Nikki heaved a sigh of relief. Her mother had decided to take a short nap. With any luck, she would stay asleep long enough for Nikki to calm down. She might even get some work done. She’d already organized her journals. Geoff McHugh had called right after Max and Alexa left for lunch to ask if he could drop by. He sounded excited…and said he wanted to see what progress she’d made on the first chapter.

Since her autobiography started with the night she first met Max, she’d been very painstaking in her phrasing. What she feared most was giving away her true feelings for Max—that and looking like a damn fool in front of the entire world. More than anything, she wanted to be able to look him in the face after it was published. As pathetic as it sounded, she wanted him to be proud of her.

The doorbell rang, ending her brief moment of freedom. She took a deep breath and walked to the front door. Visible through the glass, Geoff McHugh stood on the front stoop, gazing up at the darkening summer sky dressed in business casual, consisting of a light blue shirt that intensified the blue of his eyes and khaki slacks, sharply creased. His brown loafers were shined to perfection, while his tan leather briefcase was slightly scuffed, but substantial. A superhero tie topped off his ensemble.

She opened the door and cast a worried look at the darkening sky. “Looks like it’s going to storm. Better come in.”

“I hope you don’t mind my being so casual. I’d thought we’d work better, if we weren’t so formal.” Geoff ran a hand through his crisp strawberry blond hair.

He appeared nervous, and she wondered why. He wasn’t about to spill his guts in a book. “Somehow, I doubt that formality is one of your strong suits, or is it?” She gestured at his superhero tie, then motioned for him to follow her to the sunroom.

He laughed. “Like my tie, do you? Now, we don’t have to be adversaries. We both have something to gain from your book.”

She turned and grinned. “And what do you have to gain?”

A smile spread across his face. “A lot. For one, it’ll be the first in an entertainment line I want to launch. If your book does well, then there’ll be more to follow. I’ll gain prestige.”

“You certainly expect a lot from one has-been model,” she said with a laugh. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”

“You can’t fool me. You’re bright. There’s more to you than your beautiful face.”

She processed the compliment. “Thank you, I should hope so.”

“See here, once your book is published, you’ll have established yourself as an author. A whole new career will open for you.”

His words sent a wave of relief through her. He’d said exactly what she wanted to hear, but the thought of it scared her too. Success or failure, it was in her hands…and Geoff McHugh’s.

“I want to see what you’ve done so far. I don’t care how rough it is. The journal you sent me was clear and concise.” He sat on a blue and white ticking-striped ottoman and removed the journal from his brief case. “In this one journal, I see you have a sharp sense of humor. Of course, I already knew that from our first meeting.” He awarded her with an engaging grin.

Her face grew warm. “I suppose I was a little nervous.”

“Well, we both had a surprise then, didn’t we?”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, I expected to meet—uh, I don’t suppose there’s any way to say this without being offensive, but I didn’t expect you to be so intelligent. I figured someone, who stood around all day looking beautiful, wouldn’t have an original thought in her head. But I’m glad to say I was wrong. I’m looking forward to working with you on this project.”

She leaned back against the desk chair and folded her arms across her chest. “Are you aware of your tendency to make speeches?”

A guilty little smile tugged at his mouth. “I think it’s been mentioned before. Guess it’s a good thing you’re around to remind me not to do it quite so often.”

“I suppose I could take on that responsibility, in addition to everything else I have to do,” she said, making a sweeping motion with her arm, encompassing the entire room.

“I’m sure you’ll take it very seriously.”

“I will.” At this point, she couldn’t restrain her laughter. “You weren’t anything like I expected, either. I don’t know exactly what I expected, but it wasn’t someone like you.”

Geoff’s eyes twinkled. “I think I’ve just been damned by faint praise.”

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised.”

The two of them burst into laughter. This was definitely going to be an enjoyable relationship. Something different and new. No history involved.

***

Alexa in tow, Max bounded up the steps to the townhouse, opened the door and stopped in the hall, leaving his keys on the Empire center table. He skimmed through the mail. Nothing of interest.

“I’m going up to my room to call Bitsy, okay Dad?” Alexa asked.

“Sure.” Max was distracted by an unusual sound… Nikki’s laughter. It surprised him. She’d been working much too hard on her book. He hurried to the sunroom, anxious to discover the cause of her merriment…and share it, if possible.

As he walked through the kitchen, another sound puzzled him—the lower rumble of male laughter. Incensed, he wondered who in the hell was here in his house…with Nikki?

He stood in the doorway of the sunroom. Neither of them noticed his arrival. They were too busy laughing. Nikki’s face was slightly flushed, as she attempted to make some point or other with the young man.

He cleared his throat, not wanting to spy any longer.

Nikki glanced in his direction first. “I wasn’t expecting you until later. Max, this is my editor, Geoff McHugh. Geoff, Max Devereaux, my—uh…” She waited a beat before adding, “…ex-employer.”

Not trusting himself to speak, Max nodded. Besides, his throat had grown dry. He extended his hand to Nikki’s editor, who stood and returned the greeting.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’ve been reading about the night you and Nikki first met. It was certainly a fortuitous meeting, wouldn’t you say?” The handshake became a contest, as each man tried to impress the other with his strong grip.

“Indeed, it was.” He looked from Nikki to her editor back at her again. Their laughing camaraderie pissed him off. Dammit. Why couldn’t she be that relaxed with him?

“It seems rather remarkable you should come out of a theater and find a future supermodel on the street, right there in front of you. Have you been back to see if there are any more undiscovered supermodels waiting for you?”

Already tired of McHugh’s impertinent questions, Max asked one of his own, “Are you a reporter or an editor?”

McHugh chuckled. “I know. I know. Actually, I did entertain the idea of journalism at one time, but I regained my sanity and changed majors.”

Nikki giggled. Max turned in her direction and shot her what he hoped was a pointed look.

McHugh turned to Nikki. “You’ve made a good start. If you work on the additions and revisions I suggested, your opening will be much stronger.” He picked up his briefcase. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, sir.”

“You also,” Max muttered. McHugh’s insistence on calling him sir aggravated him beyond belief. The editor’s politeness was feigned and verged on insult. They weren’t that many years apart in age.

“Nikki, we’ll talk more tomorrow, okay?” McHugh said.

“Sure, I’ll get started on the revisions right away.” She stood. “I’ll see you to the door,” she said with what Max thought was a very self-satisfied smile.

Max watched them leave the sunroom. “Good riddance,” he muttered, then looked down and discovered he’d clenched his fists. And his stomach felt like someone had used it for boxing practice. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why she was so at ease with McHugh, someone she barely knew. From the foyer he heard her giggle again. Didn’t the she have anything better to do?

Finally, he heard the front door open and shut. Seconds later, Nikki rejoined him, her face flaming red. “I can’t believe how rude you were to Geoff.”

“Rude?” Why the hell was she so angry at him? What had he done now?

“He was here, a guest in your home…at my invitation. You did everything but beat your chest and hike your leg on the furniture.”

“Nikki!” Damn. She had him pegged—not that he’d ever admit it.

“Your behavior was inexcusable. You embarrassed me.”

She advanced on him and Max took a step back. If she continued in this vein, she’d be shaking her finger in his face. He stepped toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’re overwrought,” he said in an attempt to calm her.

“Keep your hands off me, Max Devereaux.” She shoved him away. “I’m not overwrought. I’m pissed off.” She flounced back and forth. “I was working with my editor. And you came in here acting like you caught us in the sack.”

She whirled, but he caught her arm and pulled her to his chest. His heart slammed against his sternum like a blacksmith’s hammer. Her nearness intoxicated him more than any liquor could have. The light scent she wore mingled with her own unique fragrance and rendered him senseless. He felt her breasts rise and fall against his chest with each rapid breath. Her lips parted. He bent his head to claim their sweetness. Finally, his lips touched hers. They were warm, soft...and so sweet. Caught up in the moment, her body molded to his.

“Oh. Excuse me,” Jessie Prentice’s harsh tones sliced through their brief moment of expectation, severing his fragile bond with Nikki as effectively as any knife.

Nikki reacted first, jumping back. He dropped his hands. He’d been so close. Now this.

Jessie pursed her lips, then sneered at Nikki, “I didn’t mean to intrude, but the child could’ve seen you two, rutting like dogs in heat.”

Dumbstruck, he resisted the urge to lash out and shake the silly woman.

“Mama!” Nikki’s face reddened.

He had to say something, but his command of English failed him. “Merde. Ça suffit. Désolé.” He waved his hands in the air. At the agency—hell anywhere—he was in total control, but here in his own home?

Jessie’s expression turned to one of puzzlement. “What’s he saying, Nikki? You know I don’t speak a word of that language? Why doesn’t he speak English like usual?”

Nikki shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “He’s upset, Mama. He just said he was sorry and that he’s heard enough.”

“Are you sure that’s all he said?”

Max regained his English. “Don’t talk about me in the third person. I apologize, Mrs. Prentice. It was my fault. I…care for Nikki, but we’re not lovers, nor dogs in heat. What an abominable expression.” He swallowed dryly and continued, “If you wish to leave my home, I will understand. Your daughter is in no danger here, in spite of my crude behavior.”

Mrs. Prentice looked from Max to Nikki, who occupied herself with looking at the floor and breathing heavily. “That might be the best solution, after all. I don’t want to intrude,” she said, then added with a smirk, “or be in the way.”

“Mother! It’s not like that.”

“Oh, no? I’m not blind. You can’t fool me, young lady. You’ve had the hots for this foreigner ever since he picked your sorry butt off the streets and turned you into a fancy model.”

Nikki’s her fingers curled at her sides. Fearing she would attack her mother, Max placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. She stopped short, but her eyes flashed her anger clear enough.

Jessie turned on him, her tone loud and shrill. “You! You’ve corrupted my daughter. Brought her into a world of drugs and wholesale sex. Had her parade around, strutting her stuff like she’s better than anyone else. You should have left her on the streets. At least, being a whore would’ve been more honest.”

“Left her on the streets? I took her away from the drugs and wholesale sex. For heaven’s sake, your daughter was eating out of garbage cans and begging on the streets. I gave her the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“You certainly didn’t mind taking the money I earned, Mama.” Tears ran down Nikki’s cheeks.

Those tears sent a burst of anger through Max. “That’s enough. No more. I want you to leave. Now!” He turned and grabbed the telephone and dialed information. “Loew’s Carlton?”

Nikki stood watching him while he made reservations for her mother and called a taxi. He wanted so much to reach out and comfort her—but not in front of her malicious mother. What a nightmare. He’d been polite and gracious when the blasted woman showed up at his door uninvited, but she had more than worn out her welcome.

“Well. I can certainly see I’m not welcome here.” Jessie whirled and rushed from the room.

“It’s your own fault,” Nikki called after the woman.

“Let her go.” He gathered Nikki into his arms. Her shoulders heaved, as she sobbed.

“Sometimes I think I hate my mother. You’ve been wonderful to me. Why does she have such an evil mind?”

“She can’t help being who she is, but I won’t put up with it. Neither should you.” He kissed the top of her head, breathing in her sweet scent.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Alexa walked into the sunroom and stopped, her eyes wide. “Did I miss something?”

“A little disagreement. Nothing for you to worry about,” he said, hoping to soothe his daughter. No need to get her upset as well.

She cast him a doubtful look. “Heard anything about the tickets yet?”

“No. Don’t worry, Ramona will call when she has news.”

“Tickets?” Nikki stopped crying. “I thought you already had tickets.”

“This teenager decided she’d rather go to the ’NSYNC concert instead.”

Nikki grinned and nodded. “Yeah, I guess she would at that. The group’s pretty hot, isn’t it?”

Alexa pressed her hand to her heart and rolled her eyes heavenward, “Oh, yes. They’re really, really hot. Bitsy will be so jealous.”

The shrill of the telephone saved him from having to listen to more ’NSYNC adulation.

Alexa squealed and grabbed for it. “Ramona. Yes, it’s Alexa. Tomorrow night, three tickets. You’re wonderful. Here’s Daddy.” She thrust the telephone at him and began to dance around the room. “I’m going to see ’NSYNC. Omigod! I’m going to see ’NSYNC.”

“Tomorrow night, Ramona?” he asked, still a little befuddled by the emotional scenes he’d just experienced. Only moments before, he and Nikki had been on the brink of... something and then her vicious mother interrupted. And now his daughter was on the verge of swooning over a bunch of semi-adolescent boy singers.

His assistant’s, “Max?” brought him back to reality.

“Thanks, Ramona. Wonderful. Messenger them over.” He turned to his daughter. “You have your wish.” Turning to Nikki he asked, “Would you like to come with us? There are three tickets. “I’d really like you to go.”

“Say yes.” Alexa danced around the room.”Say yes.”

“Wouldn’t you rather ask Bitsy to go with you? I still have a lot of work to do on my book—the revisions my editor suggested.”

Max stiffened. “If that’s what you’d rather do. Fine.”

“Bitsy!” Alexa squealed again. “Oh, yes.” Then she stopped and turned to Nikki. “If you’re sure you really don’t want to go?”

“I’m sure.” Nikki shifted from one foot to the other. “Actually, I ought to get back to work.”

Max bristled, but told his daughter. “Yes, let’s leave Nikki alone with her work. Why don’t you call Bitsy friend from the study? Maybe you could arrange a sleepover for tonight at Bitsy’s? I’ll pick up the two of you tomorrow night and take you to dinner and the ’NSYNC concert from there.” He placed his arm around his daughter’s shoulders as they walked out of the room, but glanced over his shoulder at Nikki, leaving her with a silent warning, our conversation isn’t over.