Page 123 of Keep Your Friends Close and Your… Work Enemy Closer?

I wove my way between the tables, dodging the waitstaff with their full trays, catching snatches of conversation around me, the emcee's voice not quite loud enough to drown everyone out.

Spying a pair of ornate double doors at the far end of the room, I made my way toward them like they were a beckoning lighthouse amidst my storm. Finally reaching them, I pushed one open and slipped through, the door closing behind me and muffling the noise of the party.

Outside, I found myself on a wide stone balcony overlooking the Manhattan skyline, the night air brushing my face like a balm. Holding on to the cool railing, I gulped down lungfuls of oxygen, my chest heaving as if I'd just surfaced from being underwater. And maybe I had been underwater, ever since that day when Max and I had broken things off.

What a fucking disaster I'd made of everything. Me and my stupid grandiose idea of making a name for myself. How dumb was that plan? The name wasn't even mine, so what good had that even done me?

And Max. My God, the way I missed him in my life. That was by far the worst part. And even more tragic, it felt like it was too late to fix it.

Staring at the city lights stretched out before me, a Max montage—fucking alliteration—played out in my mind, all of our greatest moments, and not so great moments, weaving together into an endless loop that made me want to weep.

Was it too late?

The man had been the definition of persistence, never failing a single day to send me a note, always writing the sweetest things, not showing any signs of giving up on me.

But he'd fired me.

But maybe he'd been right to fire me.

Being Cordelia had been a dead end with no good way out. He'd pushed me, sooner than I wanted to, but if he hadn't, I knew damn well I'd still be there, doing the same fucking thing... pretending to be someone I wasn't, living a lie every single day, falling deeper and deeper into a hole of my own doing.

Max had actually saved me.

The realization hit me like a thunderclap, loud and startling, rattling me to my core. Shock then urgency spread like wildfire through my veins. I had to find him, to tell him, to apologize to him face-to-face.

There was no time to waste. What if in the space of this party, he'd given up on me?

Whirling around, I rushed toward the doors I'd just come through, only to have one pop open in front of me. I stopped in my tracks, my jaw dropping at the sight before me.

Max fucking Sterling. In the flesh. Looking handsome as hell. Stealing the breath from my lungs.

The mustache was gone, as were the unflattering glasses and bad haircut. No rumpled, ill-fitting clothes either.

He stepped out into the moonlight—tall, so damn tall, and devastatingly gorgeous—wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo that hugged his broad shoulders and big body like a glove. His dark hair was slightly tousled, those intense, familiar eyes locking on mine with a magnetic pull, a faint smile playing about his lips.

To be honest, I didn't care in the slightest what he looked like on the outside. I knew him on theinside, more than I even knew myself. And I... I loved who he was, how he cared for those around him, how he had a positive outlook that spread to anyone in his vicinity, how he'd never given up on me despite how unlovable I could be.

In that instant, the world shrunk to just two people, the two of us.

Us.

If he'd agree.

There was only one way to find out. And my heart drummed a frantic beat as I stepped forward, intent on my mission.

Thirty-Four

Max

She looked like a dream, like a movie star, the most beautiful girl in the world in the most stunning gown I'd ever seen, all mouthwatering cleavage and a split up the thigh that made me want to lick every fucking inch of her.

There wasn't a strong enough word in the English language to describe what seeing her after all this time did to me.

But I felt it in my soul.

If she turned me down now, I'd be crushed, absolutely demolished.

Even though I'd planned for this moment, thought about it practically every second of every day, I was struck speechless at the sight of her.

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