The Gamble
Page 106
“A little,” I lied and lined my lips with a slightly shaky hand.
“It gets ugly, honey, we’re out of there,” Max declared, finding his opening, taking the turn and accelerating down the cleared-of-snow road.
“Okay,” I replied, capping my liner, dropping it in my mini-makeup bag and finding my lipstick.
I finished my lips, flipped the visor back up and placed my hand on my purse, not on Max’s thigh although I wanted to do that I just found I couldn’t.
Max didn’t notice. Instead, he pushed back into his seat and his hand dug in his jeans pocket. He pulled it out and without taking his eyes from the road he held up my engagement ring between our seats, the ring between his finger and thumb.
“Found that after you had your thing the other day,” he muttered as I stared at the ring. “Take it, babe, and do with it what you have to do.”
I reached out and took it, still staring at it, remembering how I felt when Niles had given it to me. He hadn’t gotten down on a knee. He hadn’t slid it on my finger. He’d just placed the box on the table at the restaurant where we were eating, slid it next to my empty plate and said, “I’d be delighted if you’d accept that.”
And I’d been delighted to accept it, delighted at the thought of not being alone, of belonging to someone and the ring was gorgeous, the diamond was over a carat and excellent quality, set in a thick, just-this-close-to ostentatious band heavy with gold.
My mind moved from Niles and like women so foolishly do when they meet someone they like, it flew forward months and months and I wondered, if things worked out with Max, how he’d propose.
Then suddenly I wondered how he proposed to Anna.
Then I shoved that thought aside and wondered what his ring would be like.
Then I wondered about the ring he gave to Anna.
Stop it, Nina, and talk to him, Charlie ordered in my head.
I swallowed, tucked the ring into my own pocket, looked out my side window and didn’t utter a word.
Max didn’t take my hand again as we drove in silence into town and he parallel parked on the street three cars down from the hotel. I opened my door, jumped down, shut it and rounded the bonnet, meeting Max on the sidewalk.
I had my head down but stopped when his hand took mine and he didn’t move.
I turned, looked up at him and saw his face was blank but there was something working behind his eyes, something I didn’t get but they were roving over my face.
Finally, Max spoke. “A warning, Duchess, I won’t let your Dad give you any shit.”
The conflicting emotions I had in the Jeep settled at his declaration of support and I moved closer to him.
“Okay,” I said.
His hand squeezed mine and then it tugged, bringing me closer and his other hand went to my hip.
“Another warning,” he muttered, his eyes locked on mine.
“What?” I asked when he didn’t say anything further.
He looked at me a second then I saw his jaw tense, his hand got tight in mine and his fingers gripped my hip.
“Max?” I prompted, his apparent battle to gain control over something I didn’t understand was beginning to worry me because it didn’t seem at all like Max.
“The right thing to do would be to let you do what you need to do,” Max stated.
I felt my brows draw together in confusion and I repeated, “What?”
“Not gonna do that, babe.”
“What?” I asked again.
“You think to slide back, settle for something that made you run away because you think it’s safe, because it’s familiar, because you’re scared of takin’ a gamble on me, I’m warnin’ you now, Duchess, I’m not gonna allow that.”
Oh my God.
He was worried. In his Max way, he was worried I’d walk in, take one look at Niles and go back to my old life. Or let Niles and my father talk me into it. That was why he was silent in the Jeep and that was why he didn’t take my hand, because this was on his mind.
“Max –” I whispered, moving closer and putting my hand to his chest.
“You just need to know, I gotta fight to keep what we got so we can build on it, I will. Him, your Dad, you, I don’t give a f**k. In my life, I’ve learned when to let shit go and when to fight. This, babe, what we got, I’ll fight for.”
My hand slid up his chest and curled around his neck as I got closer. I felt tears prick the backs of my eyes and my stomach melted. I was back to thinking settling for Max would be perfectly all right. Definitely.
“Max –”
“Fair warnin’.”
My fingers tensed on his neck and I squeezed his hand. “Okay,” I whispered, “fair warning.”
He dipped his head and touched his mouth to mine, let me go but his arm curled around my shoulders, mine curved around his waist, my thumb going into his belt loop and we walked to the hotel. We no sooner opened the door when we heard it.
My mother screeching, “You dare!”
My head whipped to the side and up and I saw Max already looking down at me, his face both surprised and amused.
“Oh no,” I whispered.
Over my words, I heard my Mom scream, “Let me at him!”
Max’s arm dropped but he grabbed my hand and walked quickly with long strides and I had to rush double time to keep up with him as he dragged me to the hotel restaurant. When we entered we saw everyone in the restaurant had their heads turned to a corner table.
This was because, at the corner table, Steve was holding my mother back and her arms were outstretched toward my father, her fingers curled as if she was imagining strangling him.
Niles was standing, looking somewhat troubled and uncertain what to do but Dad was sitting, staring up at my mother with an ugly smirk on his face.
Upon sight of this scene, I realized my mistake at being late.
Perhaps I should have come as wet-haired, makeup free Nina.
“I see you haven’t changed, Nell,” I heard Dad remark acerbically.
Oh dear.
“I… you… I… argh!” Mom screeched.
Max and I hit the table and I opened my mouth to speak but Max got there before me.
“What’s goin’ on?”
Niles was now staring at Max, not me, but Max, not looking somewhat troubled but looking like he’d been punched in the stomach which, I had to admit, made me feel more than a little guilt. Dad still didn’t move. Steve kept struggling to control Mom but she suddenly stopped fighting and turned to Max.
“You didn’t say yesterday what he did!” she shrieked, her arm swinging out in an arc to point at Dad on the word “he”.
“It gets ugly, honey, we’re out of there,” Max declared, finding his opening, taking the turn and accelerating down the cleared-of-snow road.
“Okay,” I replied, capping my liner, dropping it in my mini-makeup bag and finding my lipstick.
I finished my lips, flipped the visor back up and placed my hand on my purse, not on Max’s thigh although I wanted to do that I just found I couldn’t.
Max didn’t notice. Instead, he pushed back into his seat and his hand dug in his jeans pocket. He pulled it out and without taking his eyes from the road he held up my engagement ring between our seats, the ring between his finger and thumb.
“Found that after you had your thing the other day,” he muttered as I stared at the ring. “Take it, babe, and do with it what you have to do.”
I reached out and took it, still staring at it, remembering how I felt when Niles had given it to me. He hadn’t gotten down on a knee. He hadn’t slid it on my finger. He’d just placed the box on the table at the restaurant where we were eating, slid it next to my empty plate and said, “I’d be delighted if you’d accept that.”
And I’d been delighted to accept it, delighted at the thought of not being alone, of belonging to someone and the ring was gorgeous, the diamond was over a carat and excellent quality, set in a thick, just-this-close-to ostentatious band heavy with gold.
My mind moved from Niles and like women so foolishly do when they meet someone they like, it flew forward months and months and I wondered, if things worked out with Max, how he’d propose.
Then suddenly I wondered how he proposed to Anna.
Then I shoved that thought aside and wondered what his ring would be like.
Then I wondered about the ring he gave to Anna.
Stop it, Nina, and talk to him, Charlie ordered in my head.
I swallowed, tucked the ring into my own pocket, looked out my side window and didn’t utter a word.
Max didn’t take my hand again as we drove in silence into town and he parallel parked on the street three cars down from the hotel. I opened my door, jumped down, shut it and rounded the bonnet, meeting Max on the sidewalk.
I had my head down but stopped when his hand took mine and he didn’t move.
I turned, looked up at him and saw his face was blank but there was something working behind his eyes, something I didn’t get but they were roving over my face.
Finally, Max spoke. “A warning, Duchess, I won’t let your Dad give you any shit.”
The conflicting emotions I had in the Jeep settled at his declaration of support and I moved closer to him.
“Okay,” I said.
His hand squeezed mine and then it tugged, bringing me closer and his other hand went to my hip.
“Another warning,” he muttered, his eyes locked on mine.
“What?” I asked when he didn’t say anything further.
He looked at me a second then I saw his jaw tense, his hand got tight in mine and his fingers gripped my hip.
“Max?” I prompted, his apparent battle to gain control over something I didn’t understand was beginning to worry me because it didn’t seem at all like Max.
“The right thing to do would be to let you do what you need to do,” Max stated.
I felt my brows draw together in confusion and I repeated, “What?”
“Not gonna do that, babe.”
“What?” I asked again.
“You think to slide back, settle for something that made you run away because you think it’s safe, because it’s familiar, because you’re scared of takin’ a gamble on me, I’m warnin’ you now, Duchess, I’m not gonna allow that.”
Oh my God.
He was worried. In his Max way, he was worried I’d walk in, take one look at Niles and go back to my old life. Or let Niles and my father talk me into it. That was why he was silent in the Jeep and that was why he didn’t take my hand, because this was on his mind.
“Max –” I whispered, moving closer and putting my hand to his chest.
“You just need to know, I gotta fight to keep what we got so we can build on it, I will. Him, your Dad, you, I don’t give a f**k. In my life, I’ve learned when to let shit go and when to fight. This, babe, what we got, I’ll fight for.”
My hand slid up his chest and curled around his neck as I got closer. I felt tears prick the backs of my eyes and my stomach melted. I was back to thinking settling for Max would be perfectly all right. Definitely.
“Max –”
“Fair warnin’.”
My fingers tensed on his neck and I squeezed his hand. “Okay,” I whispered, “fair warning.”
He dipped his head and touched his mouth to mine, let me go but his arm curled around my shoulders, mine curved around his waist, my thumb going into his belt loop and we walked to the hotel. We no sooner opened the door when we heard it.
My mother screeching, “You dare!”
My head whipped to the side and up and I saw Max already looking down at me, his face both surprised and amused.
“Oh no,” I whispered.
Over my words, I heard my Mom scream, “Let me at him!”
Max’s arm dropped but he grabbed my hand and walked quickly with long strides and I had to rush double time to keep up with him as he dragged me to the hotel restaurant. When we entered we saw everyone in the restaurant had their heads turned to a corner table.
This was because, at the corner table, Steve was holding my mother back and her arms were outstretched toward my father, her fingers curled as if she was imagining strangling him.
Niles was standing, looking somewhat troubled and uncertain what to do but Dad was sitting, staring up at my mother with an ugly smirk on his face.
Upon sight of this scene, I realized my mistake at being late.
Perhaps I should have come as wet-haired, makeup free Nina.
“I see you haven’t changed, Nell,” I heard Dad remark acerbically.
Oh dear.
“I… you… I… argh!” Mom screeched.
Max and I hit the table and I opened my mouth to speak but Max got there before me.
“What’s goin’ on?”
Niles was now staring at Max, not me, but Max, not looking somewhat troubled but looking like he’d been punched in the stomach which, I had to admit, made me feel more than a little guilt. Dad still didn’t move. Steve kept struggling to control Mom but she suddenly stopped fighting and turned to Max.
“You didn’t say yesterday what he did!” she shrieked, her arm swinging out in an arc to point at Dad on the word “he”.
