Wayward Hearts (21 page)

Now, after waiting in his office for twenty minutes, Maxi didn't know how much longer she could keep up the façade of calmness. If Philippe didn't come in soon, she'd crash and burn like the Hindenburg.

“Maxi, there you are. At last.” Philippe burst through the door in his usual exuberant style, dressed impeccably in a gray pinstriped suit. He bent to kiss both her cheeks. “I trust you are well?”

The question made her want to laugh out loud. Only the fact that she would appear unbalanced made her choke back the response. “Fine. What did you want to see me about so urgently?”

He paused to look down at her with narrowed eyes. “You say ‘fine,' but I say no. Not fine. You have dark circles, and you've been crying.” His expression changed to concern. “Your
maman
is worse?”

Maxi's gaze slid to her lap. “No, in fact she's doing much better.”

“Then what is wrong,
chérie
?”

Part of her longed to pour out her problems to him, the other part knew it would be professional suicide. She lifted her chin. “Nothing I can't handle. Now, why did you summon me here?”

One eyebrow rose a fraction. “You need to ask?” With the grace of a gazelle, he slipped around his desk and into his leather chair. “I'm supposed to make a decision about the partner, and I have heard nothing from you. Forcing me to ask, are you still interested in the partnership, or should I simply award it to Sierra?”

Even though Maxi knew he was baiting her, irritation prickled under her skin. Her temper roused to life, breaking through the fog of depression for a brief moment. “Of course I'm still interested. And what do you mean you haven't seen anything from me? Didn't you get the pictures I e-mailed to you?”

“
Quoi?
What pictures?”

Unease stirred in her chest. “Two stunning women, among others. Lily, a gorgeous brunette, brown eyes, an elegant up-do. The other a young blonde, model-like, with a trendy cut
‘a-la-Maxi.'
I sent them to you over a week ago.”

Why hadn't she followed up with him to make sure he'd received them?

Philippe's chiseled face, normally as easy to read as a tabloid cover, now froze. “It cannot be…”

“What's wrong?”

Without a word, he pulled open a drawer and took out a file folder. His well-manicured fingers pulled out two eight-by-ten headshots.

Relief spread through her stiff limbs. “You did get them. I think they're some of my best work.” She pulled the shot of Dora Lee toward her. “Especially this one. I couldn't believe the transformation.” She looked up to see his reaction, but his forehead, wreathed in wrinkles, did not ease her mind.

“What's wrong? You don't like it?”

Without a word, Philippe rose and walked to the window. “I should have recognized it. I wondered how Sierra's work had improved by such a degree.”

Maxi shot out of her chair as a red-hot burst of anger spurted through her system. “Are you telling me Sierra is taking credit for these?”

His silence told her everything.

“How is that possible?”

“I do not know. She submitted these as part of her portfolio.”

Maxi paced the room as her brain whirled with possibilities. Sierra must have intercepted the e-mail before Philippe had seen it. The desire to rip Sierra's honey hair out of her head rose like an inferno inside her. Not only had the viper stolen her clients, she'd stolen her photos as well. Maxi gripped her hands together to keep from hurling one of Philippe's statues across the room.

“I can prove they're mine. I have the pictures on my camera. I can—” She paused to gain a measure of control. “Sierra must be really insecure to stoop this low. Hacking into your e-mail account.” Maxi crossed her arms over her chest and tapped a foot on the carpet. “The question is, Philippe, what are you going to do about it?”

He turned to give her a thoughtful stare. Maxi waited, certain he'd throw Sierra's sorry butt out of the salon. For starters, Philippe didn't tolerate dishonesty or manipulation, never mind hijacking his personal e-mail. She smiled smugly to herself. The partnership had just been handed to her on a silver platter.

“I will have to consider the situation and give you an answer in the morning.”

Disbelief made Maxi's jaw drop. Once again the fuse to her temper licked to life with white-hot ire. “What is there to consider? She stole my clients and my portfolio.” Maxi hated the way her voice rang with a hint of hysteria. “You're not going to let her get away with it?”

Philippe's mouth formed a grim line. He walked to his desk and sat down, an action Maxi knew was a form of dismissal. “I will talk to you in the morning.”

Betrayal by someone like Sierra was not unexpected. But this cool dismissal by her mentor cut deeply. Coming so close on the heels of Jason's rejection, Maxi's wounds sat open and raw. She swallowed her hurt and stiffened her spine, allowing anger to form a covering of armor-like steel around her. “Just so you know, I'll be contacting my lawyer. To protect my interests in this...matter. You may be willing to forgive Sierra, but I most certainly am not.”

Slamming Philippe's door on the way out did little to release the pressure valve of her temper. Maxi stalked down the hall, her footsteps rattling on the tiles like gunfire. She almost hoped she'd run into Sierra. At this particular moment, she felt capable of anything. A good physical fight might ease the tightness in her chest.

The object of her ire happened to breeze in the double glass doors of the salon as Maxi entered the foyer. Maxi zeroed in on Sierra's confident sashay, and bee-lined toward her with single-minded purpose. She stopped inches from Sierra's surprised face.

“You stole my clients and my portfolio pictures,” Maxi hissed through clenched teeth.

Sierra recovered her poise quickly. “I don't know what you're talking about.” She moved to go by her, but Maxi clamped a steely hand on her arm.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. And now Philippe knows, too. Tomorrow my lawyer will be here to make sure we're all on the same page.”

A sheen of perspiration formed on Sierra's perfect nose. “You're insane.”

The superiority of her tone broke the last thread of control. The urge to strike out at her tormenter burned hot in Maxi's veins.

Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you
, a voice in her head whispered.

Maxi froze, her body vibrating with repressed rage. She forced herself to breathe in and out, and to think about the potential consequences of attacking Sierra. She dropped her hand in disgust. No, she wouldn't stoop to physical violence. Instead she curled her hand into a fist so tight that her nails pierced her palms.

“You won't get away with this.” Each breath puffed out through her widened nostrils. Then before Maxi could act on her baser impulses, she stormed out through the main glass doors. Not bothering to wait for the elevator, she tore down the stairs to the lobby below.

A bubble of pain lodged in her chest as she strode down Fifth Avenue, but she would not allow it to burst in a torrent of tears. She was done with useless crying.

From now on, Maxi would take fate into her own hands.

 

 

 

 

24

 

A jackhammer thundered outside Jason's bedroom window. The pounding in his brain matched the intensity of sound coming from beyond the wall. Jason grimaced as he turned over in bed and pulled the pillow onto his face, making matters worse. The familiar scent of Maxi's perfume lingered on the pillowcase. He probably should've gone down to the cot in the basement. Like the bottom-dwelling creature that he was.

After a few minutes, it registered that the noise emanated from the kitchen. His mother was wreaking havoc with the pots and pans, which meant something—or someone—had royally ticked her off. It had been a long time since Jason had gotten so drunk. Now he remembered why he stopped drinking altogether. Nothing was worth the after effects. Not even the momentary dulling of the pain.

Because the torment always returned in the morning. Along with one heck of a hangover.

The door to his room flew open and crashed against his wall. Pain shot through his temple into his left eye.

“Are you planning on getting up anytime soon?” Ma stood in the open doorway, hands on her hips. “It's after nine in case you're interested. Nick's already phoned to see what's wrong.”

Jason groaned and tried to sit up. The throbbing in his head spiked exponentially. “Do you have to yell?”

Her mouth settled into a thin line. She crossed her arms. “It's been some time since I've seen you in this condition. I thought you'd sworn off liquor.”

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. “I had…have. Got any aspirin?”

Instead of going down the hall to the bathroom, his mother sat beside him on the mattress. He opened one eye. Ma sat on the end of the bed, a worried expression on her face.

“Did you and Maxi have a fight before she left?”

A fight? He squelched the sick urge to laugh hysterically. “You could say that.”

“Must've been pretty serious to make you hit the bottle.”

He was in no shape for this type of conversation, but he knew his mother. She'd never let up until she had the truth. He sighed. “I ended our relationship.”

“What do you mean,
ended
? You'd hardly begun.”

He scrubbed a hand over his stubbly jaw. “There's a lot you don't know, Ma. If you get me some aspirin, I'll tell you the rest.”

And break your heart in the process. Just like I broke Maxi's.
Seemed he was destined to take after his father after all.

Ma rose slowly from the bed. “All right. But you're going to tell me everything. And we'll find a way to fix this.”

After she left the room, Jason reached for his discarded jeans and pulled them on over his boxers. When he was little, he'd always believed his mother could fix anything. If only that were the case.

For the first time since the whole Gloria mess started, Jason bowed his head and prayed. Prayed for forgiveness. Prayed he was doing the right thing.

 

****

 

Later that afternoon, after coming up with a plan for one measure of atonement, Jason signed his name with a flourish on the bank documents before him. He'd taken steps to secure a loan to buy the North property. Sold his beloved Harley to use the proceeds, as well as the balance of his savings account, for a good down payment. He pushed aside the pang of loss. Responsible fathers didn't ride motorcycles anyway.

Jason laid down the pen on the bank manager's desk and took a deep breath. Maxi would probably hate him even more when she discovered he was buying her family home. But selling the farm was one of the major hurdles she needed to overcome in order to get back to her life in New York. And Jason could use the property for his own purposes. One day he would offer a parcel of land to the city in exchange for a promise to build the Rainbow Falls Fire Station. It was the perfect location. In the meantime, he'd keep the homestead as his own. Remodel it to suit his tastes and live there.

With Gloria and his child
.

Here his plan hit a snag. He doubted Gloria would be thrilled about living out in the country in a refurbished farmhouse. But if she wanted him that bad, she'd have to take his choice of housing as part of the bargain.

It would kill Maxi, however, to know that he and Gloria would share her old home.

No matter. The decision had been made. Bernice would get the proceeds of the property and be able to repay Maxi for the repairs she'd paid for out of her own pocket. Then Maxi would have the money she needed to buy her share of the partnership at the salon. She could move on with her life. And he could face his sentence with a semi-clear conscience.

Jason stood and shook hands with Owen Johnson. “Thank you for taking care of this, sir.”

The portly man with a florid face beamed at him. “It's the least I could do for my future son-in-law.” He gave Jason a quick wink.

Jason tried to muster a smile because it was expected, but his lips refused to move. “Thanks, again. I'll be in touch.”

A cool breeze blew Jason's suit jacket out behind him as he stepped out of the bank and made his way down Main Street, his hands pushed deep into his pant pockets. With some time to kill before meeting with the real estate agent, he paused in front of the window of Norton Jewelers to look at the winking diamonds on display. He should probably seal his engagement to Gloria with some type of ring. The thought caused his stomach to clench in rebellion. Blood pounded a loud tempo in his brain. Pounding out the truth.

He wanted to buy a ring for Maxi.

Jason's shoulders slumped. He had to let go of that fantasy and focus on his child. For the baby's sake, he needed to find some way to make a life with its mother. No matter how impossible the challenge seemed.

He continued walking toward his truck parked in front of the hardware store. His footsteps slowed as he made out the familiar figure of Nick Logan leaning against the hood of Jason's truck, arms folded over his chest. A spasm of guilt and shame rushed through Jason's system. What would his friend think of him now?

“Afternoon, Jason.” Nick pushed away from the truck, his blond hair ruffled by the breeze.

Jason nodded, lowering his gaze to the sidewalk. “Hey, Nick.” He headed right around to the driver's door and unlocked it. “How are Lily and the baby?”

He almost choked on the word
baby
.

“Doing great. You should drop in and see them. I know Lily'd like that.”

“I'm at your house all the time working. I see them then.”

“True. But not much time for friendly conversation. We'll have you over for dinner one night.” Nick shifted position, eyeing him over the cab of the truck. “Actually, I'd like to speak to you about something.”