Because as soon as the room stopped spinning, I grabbed Poppy’s car keys and took off. I think I heard them whooping and clapping as I ran out the door, but I can’t be sure that I’m not creating my own upbeat, romantic-comedy movie ending in my head.
Both are very likely.
It’s actually a really good thing that I took Poppy’s car because I forgot about the guard protecting Maxwell’s gated community from crazies who steal their friends’ cars and show up unexpectedly at their exes’ front doors. But Poppy’s car is on the list of preapproved cars, so the guard lets me in without any issue . . . like calling Maxwell and having the mortifying moment where I’m turned away.
And I continue to push my luck by using the code he gave me and entering his house without knocking. I’m not too sure about the legality of it all, but I’m hoping he won’t call the cops and I will never have to know.
“Maxwell!” I shout, running into his house like a fucking maniac. “I’m so sorry! I know Theo lied. But I have to talk to you, you have to know—” I stop screaming and come to a sliding stop when I find him sitting on his couch . . . but he’s not alone.
A woman is sitting beside him. Both of their eyes focus on me as I stand in front of them panting and out of breath.
“Um . . .” My eyes shift between them, and I try to talk over the bile rising in my throat. “I used your code, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . . . I should . . .”
“Why don’t I come back later?” his new . . . companion . . . asks.
She stands up, straightening her skintight pencil skirt, and I have the sudden urge for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
She is stunning. Her skin looks as if she’s just made of gold—warm and rich and glowing even in the middle of winter. Her hair is masses of beautiful, black coils. And her body . . . dear god . . . her fucking body. Even being conservatively dressed in a pencil skirt and a blouse buttoned all the way up to her neck doesn’t detract from the curves she’s been blessed with. Her butt is so round that even I want to cry tears of joy from the opportunity to see such perfection in person. I want to hate her, god do I want to hate her, but I can’t. Her smile is too open and her eyes are so kind that, even though I know I’ll never have a chance with Maxwell again, I have to just appreciate her . . . and maybe ask her if she also would like to work at HERS.
“Ugh, no. Sorry.” I start to step away slowly. “I’ll just call Maxwell later, I shouldn’t have barged in like this.”
I turn around and am taking painful measures not to run, when Maxwell’s hand on my elbow stops me. “Brynn,” he says, and just the sound of his voice that I’ve missed so much over the last two weeks causes tears to brim in my eyes. “I’d like you to meet Monica Laris, my attorney.”
And when I say that Maxwell has to tighten his grip around my arms because I almost sag to the ground in relief, I’m not exaggerating.
“Well, one of many.” Monica smiles her bright smile at me and reaches out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Maxwell has told me so much about you.”
“Oh my god.” My eyes bulge out of my face. “He’s not going to sue me, is he?”
Monica throws her head back laughing like I just told a joke, but after the last time I talked to Maxwell, I most definitely am not.
“You’re right, Max, she is funny.” She wipes a finger beneath her lashes that, if she wasn’t physically perfect, I’d think were fake, but they’re probably hers because the world is so unfair. “Well, it looks like you two have things to catch up on. I’ll take these back, draw up some papers, and get back to you later this week. Nice to meet you, Brynn.”
“Um, yeah, nice to meet you too,” I say to her back as she sashays out of the room.
“So . . . you’re here,” Maxwell says once we hear the front door close.
“Looks like it.” I roll back onto my heels, not knowing where to start. Maybe one day I won’t act so rashly, because I’m seriously regretting not forming a better plan.
Maxwell takes my hand in his and brings it to his lips, dropping a soft kiss on my knuckles. “I’m glad.”
“You are?” My jaw falls open at the same time the butterflies I thought died a horrid death with Maxwell’s departure start fluttering back to life.
“I didn’t handle what happened well. I should have tried to explain to you, but there were so many legal details and I didn’t want his victim dragged into this mess all over again. I didn’t know what to do and I was so fucking angry. At Theo . . .” He drops his gaze to his feet. “At you,” he says quietly.
“I was so wrong.” I squeeze his hand tighter, afraid to get any closer, but never wanting to let him go. I’m so worried that he’ll come to his senses and remember how I betrayed him. “Even if you didn’t warn me about Theo, there is no reason I should’ve believed him without talking to you. I just . . . things were too good between us. Good things don’t come to me so easily. I knew something had to be wrong and that you couldn’t actually be that perfect. And so when Theo came to me, I latched on to him and his lies. I used it as a reason to push you away before I could fall any deeper for you.”
He takes my other hand and pulls me into a hug. He burrows his nose into my hair and I nuzzle into his neck, smelling him, feeling him, remembering everything I almost threw away. Tears leak onto his shirt, but I don’t care. I want him to know exactly what I’m feeling. I don’t want to hide any part of myself from him.
“There’s a lot to sort out there,” he says. “We can start with you finally admitting that I’m perfect.”
I roll my eyes and let out a very unattractive snort of laughter, but I don’t pull away. “I knew you weren’t going to miss that.”
“I think that you see yourself in a completely different light than probably every other person who comes across you. You are not only the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to be around, you’re also the kindest. I’ve never met another person who so freely hands out genuine and meaningful compliments, who hands out jobs like they’re candy, and is so fiercely protective of her friends. You started a business in an industry where women are not seen or heard, and you are thriving. And not only that, you inspire and encourage other women to follow in your footsteps. Maybe things don’t come easy for you, but that’s because the people and things you’ve surrounded yourself with are things worth working for.”
It’s a good thing I want him to see my tears, because I couldn’t hide them now if I tried. “I’m the one who is supposed to be apologizing right now,” I say, even though it’s barely comprehensible between my sobs.