Page 26 of Smooth Sailing
“What happened?” she asked.
“Heart failure.” The words dropped like stones. His fingers drummed once, twice on the steering wheel. He couldn’t bring himself to unpack all those memories, not here, not now. “It was a long time ago. I was a freshman in high school.”
“That’s when you moved to our town, right?”
“Yup, second semester. I met Asher through Jackson in Biology. He’s the reason I got into landscape architecture. Sort of. He got me a job working at his family’s construction company, but I was more interested in the designing the outside than inside. I spent my free time sketching landscape ideas for the sites we were working on.”
He paused, a faint smile tugging at his lips, recalling those early days with Jeff. “It started with doodles, but then a landscape architect the homeowners had hired came across one and loved it. He hired me, then mentored me, and later, sold his business to me when he retired.”
She turned in her seat. “His name was also Max?”
The question caught him off guard like he’d missed a step. “No . . . his name’s Jeff.”
“But your company is MaxScape Designs.”
A chuckle escaped him. “Oh, well it was kind of a pain to change names, but the inner kid in me couldn’t resist.”
She grinned. “It is perfect.”
His shoulders relaxed as he continued, more comfortable with this topic. “What about you? How’d you end up in your field?”
As she shared her career journey, the miles slipped by unnoticed. Their conversation flowed easily from one topic to the next, with professional anecdotes giving way to more personal stories and shared laughter. The tension that had lingered between them since the start of their trip slowly dissipated, replaced by a growing sense of camaraderie.
Lost in their discussion, he almost missed the “Welcome to Traverse City” sign as it came into view. The long drive had passed in a blink. He glanced at her relaxed smile. The carefully maintained professional boundary he’d been so aware of at the start of their trip had softened without him noticing.
Her smile faltered, and she twisted in her seat, glancing at the welcome sign. “Oh, shit. I was supposed to call him when I was a half hour from his place.” She said then asked the Bluetooth in her car to call Felix. Her brother answered on the second ring, and Paloma said in a rush, “Sorry, Flea. I’m ten minutes from your house.”
“Perfect,” came a deep male voice for the speakers. “Fence wouldloveto see you.”
Max glanced at Paloma and caught her rolling her eyes. He asked, “Who’s that?”
She shook her head and said quietly. “I’ll tell you later.” Then said louder, “Seriously, Felix, hanging out with criminals? What does Abigail think about that? Or your customers?”
“One,” her brother began, but another guy with an even deeper voice cut in, “Darling, you wound me.”
“Ugh, Flea, take me off speaker,” Paloma demanded.
“One, he was an alleged criminal,” her brother began again. “He was never arrested.” Another pause and murmurs rose, then Felix amended, “Okay, never convicted. Two. Abigail suggested I hire him to help him toward a different career path. He’s no longer selling stuff that fell off the back of the truck. He drives the truck. He’s my luxury courier. I’ve needed someone like Fence since I connected with a guy in Detroit who rebuilds and refurbishes large antique pieces. His items are in high demand with a lot of my clients.”
Paloma’s brow furrowed. “Is that code for something, luxury courier? You’re not doing anything illegal, are you?”
Felix laughed, “Sister, I’m offended.”
“And my family would murder him. They’d bury him next to Hoffa,” interjected a woman with the polished cadence of a prep school education.
“That’s true,” Paloma muttered, then said, “Anyway, I could drop Max off at his friend’s first, then come over. That should give you time to finish whatever you’re doing.”
“Oh, he’s still with you?” her brother asked. “Bring him. We’re playing cards and need even numbers.”
“Or,”rumbled another man—probably the criminal Max was growing to dislike. “Drop him off. I’ll sit out the game. I’d much rather get caught up with you, pretty lady”
Max bristled at the man’s blatant flirting. Turning to Paloma, he blurted out, “You know, I love cards.” The words tumbled out before he could stop them. Sure, he hadn’t touched a deck in years, but that was beside the point.
“Great, see you in a few. Love you, sis.” Felix hung up.
Not wanting to look closely at why he threw his plans with Jamie out the car window, he asked, “Why do you call your brother Flea?”
“To annoy him. When he was little, I convinced him he was named after mom’s scrawny cat from her childhood, who always had fleas. He threw a fit, tears and screaming, all of it. Mom thought it was funny. Dad was less amused since I told Felix the story during an unveiling of one of his resorts.” She shrugged. “Since then, I’ve called him Flea.”
