“Be careful of offending him,” Max said, drawing Ethan away from the slippery slope he’d been edging toward. “Mr. Smith is likely what he says he is, but you should remain watchful.”
“You know I will.”
“Yes,” Max murmured, sounding and looking pleased as he again graced Ethan with his attention. “I know you will. You are my best agent.”
Ethan’s smile was wide. “Please tell Giuliani that.”
Max flashed white teeth at him. “He’ll refuse to believe it. He’ll blame nepotism. I should probably fire him.”
“Max, that’s terrible.”
The dark-haired man chuckled softly. Since returning from Spain, Max’s mood had noticeably lightened. He was still intense and intimidating to the other Elite Poole agents, but with Ethan he was more playful. Ethan wouldn’t have said a dark cloud had hovered over him before the trip, but something had clearly changed for Max and it wasn’t too difficult to imagine what it could be. They’d been home in Vegas for a little over a month, and Philip Poole called at least once a week. Max claimed they talked about the expansion plans, but Ethan had a feeling the calls often turned personal. Father and son had a lot to catch up on. Decades, in fact.
As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Max asked, “You spoke with your parents today?”
“Just now. My mom tried to video call me with no luck.”
“Ah. I’ll have the tech contact them to schedule a return visit at their convenience. Have any more samples caught her eye?”
Ethan rolled his eyes before looking back at the stacks of boxes. “You’ve indulged her enough, Max. She’s going to have a heart attack when she sees how much you’ve ordered.”
“Since she and my mother aren’t utilizing the services of a wedding planner, the burden is on them to find the perfect adornments, Ethan. It is not an easy task, but I’d like to help.”
“It’s a task that’s going to cost a fortune at this rate.”
“It’s not a concern,” Max said lightly. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime event for them. I want them to enjoy it to the fullest.”
“Is your mom hassling your dad about any of this?”
Max picked up his Mont Blanc and tapped it on the desk blotter. “If she has, he’s not admitting to it. He’s concentrating on location scouting in London for the first satellite office.”
He’d kept his tone neutral enough, but Ethan knew him better than anyone. Grinning, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “How excited are you?”
“Very,” Max drawled.
“A satellite office, Max. In London. That’s amazing. I hope you think it’s amazing.”
Max’s expression softened. “It’s extraordinary. I’m very pleased. My father is making himself invaluable to the company. I admit I didn’t expect this much effort from him.”
“That’s because he wants you to succeed. Having your dad behind you counts for a lot.”
“Indeed, it does.”
Ethan still marveled over what Max had shared with him. The story of baby Max falling onto the train tracks, Marcela’s miscarriage, her suicidal reaction to leaving him behind in Monte Carlo and Philip running away from it all had been a lot to take in. But it was that very volume of drama that led Ethan to believe it was all true. No sane person would make up something that wild.
How sad that his parents’ inability to communicate with each other or with Max had led to them pushing each other away for all these years. All this time they’d loved each other and yearned for a relationship with each other, but fear and misunderstanding had convinced the three of them that they didn’t care.
At the villa in Barcelona, Ethan, Philip, and Marcela had gradually warmed up to each other. It had still been awkward and the older couple’s desperate earnestness had made him and Max uncomfortable a few times. The Pooles clearly had the desire to be loving parents but had no experience with it. But Ethan would cherish the memory of that day for a long time to come and he bet Max would never forget it, either. Ethan was grateful that Max had decided to invite his father to help him with the expansion. It would keep them in constant contact and help their bond grow stronger.
“How do you think they’re going to handle Indiana?” Ethan asked, smiling because he thought he already had a pretty good idea of how the Pooles would fare in his neighborhood. “Are you going to tell them to tone down their wardrobe?”
Max sighed, looking like he wanted very badly to roll his eyes. “My parents possess casual outfits, Ethan. My mother won’t be wearing a feather boa and stilettos while she traverses a cornfield and my father won’t be wearing a top hat to Applebee’s.”
“Oh, god, the spinach and artichoke dip,” Ethan groaned. “I can’t wait to see their faces when they try it. Your dad had better take off his top hat for that. It’s so good.”
“You’re begging for a spanking, aren’t you?”
Ethan barely managed to swallow his laughter. He could tell Max was having equal difficulty maintaining a straight face.
“It’s going to be great, isn’t it?” Ethan asked, fond.
“Regardless of whether it is or not, you will officially be my husband at the end of it, and that’s all that matters to me.”
“I love you.”
“Of course you do,” Max said, smirking. “That’s why I love you, too.”
Ethan adored this happier Max, but although he could sit here all day, trading quips and speculating about the wedding, Ethan did need to earn his keep.
“I guess I’m off,” he said as he pushed back his chair and stood. “Fingers crossed that Mr. Smith and his agent don’t rope me into doing a dating show on national TV.”
“I would watch every episode,” Max promised.
“You know what the grand prize winner would get?” Ethan straightened his tie before giving Max the once-over. “A weekend handcuffed to your bed.”
Max lowered his lashes, resembling a hunting panther. “You’re going to get that anyway, thanks to your sass about my parents.”
“Thank god,” Ethan breathed with feeling. He was certain he would have had to beg for it.
~~~~~
Theodore Smith had requested that Ethan meet him at the iconic ‘Welcome to Las Vegas’ sign at the southern end of Las Vegas Boulevard. It was an unusual place to begin an assignment, but Ethan wouldn’t say he was surprised. Celebrities possessed power only when they had an audience. The world-famous sign would give Smith a nicely captive one.
Every client of The Elite Poole Worldwide was granted use of one of the agency’s limousines. Ethan sympathized with the driver who had to navigate the narrow pull-off lot used by visitors to the sign. As usual for a weekend afternoon, the small lot didn’t have a single open spot.
“You can let me out here and I’ll give you a call when we’re ready to be picked up,” Ethan told the driver.
Once out of the car, Ethan scanned the crowd of tourists that had gathered in front of the sign and were waiting for their turn to pose with it for photos. He could tell immediately that something was different this time. The usual switching of places wasn’t happening, or at least, it wasn’t happening completely. A single figure remained standing in front of the sign to pose with whoever came up.