“Yeah, if things really go south for me, you’d better remember to take me in when I’m out on the street.”
Max was still the same Max. Two–thirds of what he said was a joke, and you could never take him too seriously.
“Honestly, you camping out on a park bench sounds about right,” Alessia shot back, rolling her eyes.
Laughter echoed from the other end of the line–light, easy.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got a n.”
Only then did Alessia feel a genuine sense of relief. She looked up, her gazending on the framed photo on her desk, and for reasons she couldn’t quite name, her mood soured.
“If you really do go bankrupt one day, I suppose I could let you crash at my ce.”
She didn’t bother waiting for Max’s response, simply hung up.
The dial tone droned on. Max, lips curled in a faint grin, didn’t seem bothered at all.
Lately, Tate Holdings had been a mess. These past couple days, he’d barely managed three hours of sleep in total. He rubbed his brow and leaned back in his chair, feeling lighter after that call–the exhaustion momentarily forgotten.
“Ungrateful brat. Guess she does have a conscience after all.”
He muttered as he looked at the darkened phone screen. But a secondter, the
screen lit up again.
Max’s smile faded. He straightened, voice and posture all business.
“Twelve o’clock tomorrow<i>, </i>lunch at The Gables. Don’t forget you’re meeting the Winston family’s daughter.” Scott’s tone was cold, more business partner than father.
“I know.<i>” </i>Max’s reply was t, emotionless, as if he were speaking to a stranger.
“You’re aware of the state Tate Holdings is in. We need the Winston investment–there’s no room for mistakes. I trust you know how to conduct yourself.”
“Understood.” Max didn’t bother to say more.
12:42
Chapter
Scott didn’t care about his attitude. As soon as he got confirmation, he hung up.
Max let out a coldugh, tossed his phone onto the table, and didn’t give it another thought.
Still, the next day he showed up at the restaurant as instructed.
By the time Sienna arrived, Max was already seated, staring absently out the window.
Even though she was half an hourte, Sienna didn’t show the slightest hint of guilt. With the Tate family on the brink and her family’s investment the only lifeline, she knew she held all the cards. What did it matter if she made him wait? He had no choice but to y along.
Composing herself, she strode over, her designer bag swinging from her arm. A waiter hurried to pull out her chair, and Sienna sat down smoothly.
Hearing themotion, Max turned his head, slow and unhurried.
He was impably dressed, his sharp features and effortless elegance exactly as she’d hoped. Of course, Sienna had reviewed his background before agreeing to this meeting. With her pedigree, she had her pick of suitors, but Max’s family
name–and his looks–were hard to match.
No doubt about it: on paper, Max was exactly what she wanted.
A family that needed her money to stay afloat meant she’d hold all the power after marriage. The thought made her lift her chin a little higher, pride shining in her eyes. “So, you’re <i>Max</i>?”
She gave him a <i>once</i><i>–</i>over, expecting a fawning greeting. Instead, he looked at her with chilly indifference. Theck of enthusiasm irked her, but in some twisted way, it only made her more intrigued.
“And you are?”
Sienna let out a softugh, assuming he was ying hard to get.
“Sienna.” She announced her name with her chin tilted up, every inch the confident
heiress.
“Oh.” Max’s response was so nonchnt it made Sienna’s smile falter.
“Well, it’s a relief to see Miss Winston actually made it. For a moment there, I was starting to wonder if you’d been in a car ident–that’s about the only excuse for
<i>213 </i>
12:42
showing up thiste.”
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