Page 90 of Invisible String
“It’s best if you leave, Max. You hurt my sister, and I won’t allow you to cause her more pain.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. Calm, like always. “I’m sorry that I hurt your sister. It was never my intention. I have myreasons, and they’re between her and me.” He stares at me. Like, really stares.
And what are your reasons besides not loving me?I want to ask, but that would imply I care.
“I apologized to her, and I will apologize a million more times if I have to.”
“Good—”
“Bethany, I need you in the back,” Isabella cuts Bethany off.
Thank the heavens for that. Bethany frowns and runs to the back of the kitchen.
“I like your sister. She has spunk, just like her big sister. And she sticks up for you. I’m happy you have that.” My mom’s portraits catch his attention. “How’s your mom doing? I thought I might see her here with you baking.” He smiles at my mom’s photo and then averts his gaze toward me.
He doesn’t know. His smile drops when he sees my frown, and I swallow.
“Umm. She passed a year ago.” My voice comes out hoarse. Shit, I can’t control my trembling chin. He rushes behind the register.
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Max gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and his warmth draws me closer, seeking solace in his presence.
His touch is all I longed for during the time I lost my mother. I craved his comfort.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.” His voice is soft as a feather. “I’m here now if you’ll allow me. I’ll do anything to be in your space.”
Slowly, I lift my chin to meet his dazzling eyes. This man wrecks me in the worst way. The longing in his eyes matches my own. The pain in my chest lingers like a plague when I remember how much I loved this man. “I…I don’t know.” The words come out scrambled.
He steps back behind the counter, the opposite side of me. He nods. “It’s okay. Again, I’m sorry for the loss of your mom. She was a great woman. I’m honored I had the chance to meet her.” He points to the door. “I better go.” He pivots out the door.
I yell, “Wait.”
He turns, his brows knit.
“Here, take a red velvet cupcake and cookies. You had to put up with a lot of shit in my bakery. It’s on me.” I grab a to-go box and add a couple of his favorites.
His favorites. It seems like only yesterday I was knocking at the cabin nervously and determined, with red velvet cupcakes and cookies in hand, to get Max Cano’s attention. Oh, how the tables have turned.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
RAINEY
For seven days straight, Max has been dropping in every morning at my café. It’s been the same every morning. He’ll have a breakfast sandwich, a pastry, or the soup of the day. He asked me twice what my favorite book is and what my recommendations are. I learned how he likes his coffee. Two creams and two sugars. He prefers cane sugar and not syrup junk. Those were his words, not mine.
His husky voice rings in my ears with his “Good mornings.” It’s always good morning, sunshine, Rain,tesoro, or the new endearment, baby. I liquefy when I hear him call me baby. His smile is different. Before, it was a genuinely sweet one reserved for me. Now his smile grows from ear to ear when he walks in, teeth showing and all. It has me wondering what or who melted the tip of his iceberg. However, he is still a grump. When he walks out, his smile dissolves.
I hate that my walls are trembling.
“I’ll be right back, Isabella,” I throw over my shoulder while reaching for my keys and handbag. My sister flew back to Paris last night, and I miss her already. Now I’m back to being short-handed. My new employees start next week. “Will you be okay closing?”
“Yes, of course, sweetheart. Here is the box of goodies for the men and women at the company. Maybe they’ll forgive our stupidity.” She throws her head back in a fit of giggles.
I join her.
A few minutes later, I’m driving toward Max Enterprise Security Company. The correct course of action is to give the money back to the company for the mixer that isn’t really broken.
“God, how embarrassing,” I mutter to no one. As I park, I walk toward the very tall building, and then I take the elevator.
The office sprawls out before me, much larger than I anticipated. As a rapidly expanding company, as I discovered through numerous reviews, it buzzes with energy. Framed photographs of legendary boxers, their fists poised mid-swing, adorn the walls, lending a sense of history and grit to the space. The rich aroma of coffee lingers in the air, complemented by the warmth of the brown leather sofas, which offer a welcoming touch to the modern decor.
