Maxine twisted around, watching in horror as the dead bolt turned. Fortunately, her companion had better reflexes and was already standing by the couch, reaching for his shirt. She felt a bit overwhelmed at how damn sexy he was.
“…call the police?” Stuart’s voice on the other side of the door zapped her into action like she’d been shocked.
Without uttering a single word, she hustled her unnamed lover down the hallway, pushing him toward her bedroom door. He managed to get his t-shirt over his head.
He whispered something quickly in French. “Whatever you suggested, there’s no time.”
Maxine shoved him into her room. “Don’t come out,” she said as her front door banged open.
“Maxie?” Crosby’s panicked voice called out. She walked in followed by Stuart. “Are you—oh!”
Maxine hastily pulled at her dress. “Um…hey.” “Thank God.” Crosby said. She had Maxine’s
winter coat over one arm. “We were terrified you were kidnapped.”
“Sorry to worry you, sis.” Maxine crossed her arms in front of her chest, trying to keep her unzipped dress from falling down. “But seriously, do you have any idea how many guys it would take to lug my body of
out the club and into the back of their van? An operation like that would not go unnoticed.”
Stuart kept his scarf in place, but began to unbutton his leather jacket. His breaths were rushed. “I want you to move to a place with an elevator,” he said, fanning out the panels. He looked Maxine up and down and frowned.
“What are you guys doing here?” She leaned on the kitchen counter, partially blocking the hallway to her bedroom.
Crosby reached into her knock-off Marc Jacobs purse. She pulled out her phone and started texting. “After you disappeared from the club I started phoning you. You weren’t answering and then the phone was turned off. And then I find your coat still with mine in the coat check. What else was I supposed to do?”
“Certainly not order two more rounds of drinks before we left,” Stuart added. He studied Maxine again.
She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I was just in the bathroom.” She winced for effect. “That’s why I left the club so quickly.”
“You only had one mojito,” Stuart said. “I don’t remember you being such a cheap drunk.”
“I think the mint was moldy or something.”
He leaned closer. “You don’t look sick,” he continued. “You look…iridescent.”
She faked a cough. “It’s probably the fever.” “Fever?” Crosby looked up from her phone, her
expression serious. “Maybe you should go to emergency?”
Stuart rolled his eyes. “You need to stop watching those trauma reality shows,” he said. “It’s skewing your judgment, which is already ridiculously nonsensical.”
“You’re the one who said she was all glowy like a light bulb,” Crosby shot back.
Stuart walked over to the couch. The quilt was a scrunched up mess. “Jesus, Max,” he said, trying to straighten the fabric. “You need a maid.” He looked critically at the bowl of nail polish and used cotton balls. There was a piece of paper tucked under the bowl. He lifted it and started to read. “Midnight Stroll. Sand Between My Toes. Oil My Back…what the hell is this?”
Crosby gave a tiny squeal. “Maxie and I are going to start a new business on the side naming nail polishes.”
He flipped the paper back on the trunk’s surface. “That’s a sure fire retirement plan,” he said. Then he gave Maxine a curious look. “Is this for the cosmetic boutique you talked about all last year? Because I thought that might actually be successful.”
Maxine waved her hand through the air, trying to ignore the way her stomach dropped. “Johnny did the numbers, he said I didn’t have enough collateral for a small business loan. And plus, he said it would be crazy to leave something solid and dependable, like the spa.”
Stuart became uncharacteristically quiet. Crosby made a sound at the back of her throat. “Solid and dependable? As if Johnny knows what that means.” She ended the sentence rolling her eyes.
“If you want a second opinion”—Stuart’s expression was open, genuine—“I could look at your file, maybe this is something we could all invest in—”
Maxine shook her head. “I can’t take the responsibility of losing everyone’s money.” The truth was, owning her own cosmetic boutique had been a dream as soon as Maxine graduated esthetician school. She had it all figured out: prom specials, birthday parties, bridal functions, the possibilities were endless. Maxine knew she had a special talent for picking out the right colors for her clients, she had a loyal following at the spa, but the biggest reason was that she understood how women felt about wanting to be beautiful. And if you don’t fit into the dress you see in the window, you can always buy a new lipstick.
Crosby’s phone buzzed. Her red fingernails worked quickly on the keypad. “Rose is relieved you’re not dead. It was her idea for us to come over here. She’s pissed you took off like that, though. Apparently, the news scanner is full of creeps prowling the streets at night. And she said the worst ones are the guys who look completely normal. Oh!” Crosby went over to the dining table. “Are these the new eye shadows you were telling me about?”
Maxine groaned inside. Crosby was constantly losing her focus. She’d never get them out of her apartment.
“Hello? What do we have here?” Stuart let out a slow whistle, the gold watch dangled from his finger. He looked at Maxine. “Who owns this?”
She hugged her elbows. “I found it when I was cleaning.”
Stuart raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, I wasn’t cleaning. I was looking for my favorite eyelash curler and found it shoved in the back of one of the junk drawers in the kitchen.” Maxine was impressed with how quickly she pulled that lie out of the air. “It’s obviously Johnny’s,” she said. The expensive timepiece was still in Stuart’s grasp. “I was going to mail it to him, but I have no idea where he’s living these days.”
Crosby put down her purse on top of a pile of magazines and slipped into the kitchen. She started opening cupboards and peeking inside. “You should sell it and buy yourself something nice. Hey, do you have anything else to eat besides goldfish crackers?”
Stuart tried on the gold watch. It hung loosely from his wrist. “Wow, this is heavy.” He inspected the watch more closely. “Tight assed Johnny owned a luxury sports watch? Doesn’t seem like him.”
“He fooled a lot of us, didn’t he?” Maxine replied, her tone was sharp. She wasn’t entirely faking. The emotion was genuine and she was using it to her advantage.
Stuart slipped off the watch, carefully placing it on the trunk.
“Put it on ebay!” Crosby opened a can of frosting. She peeled off the foil and dipped her finger in. “Let’s do it tonight!”
“Excuse me,” Maxine said nodding to the icing. “I was saving that!”
“For what?” she licked the end of her finger. “Breakfast.”
Crosby took another swipe of frosting, then said, “I totally forgot! Guess who I met at the club tonight?”
Maxine yawned this time, adding emphasis. She thought of the sexy French/Greek sex god with the amazing erection, now hiding in her bedroom. She patted her stomach and tried to look miserable. “Thanks for checking up on me, but I need to call it a night, I’m working tomorrow.” She tried to brighten her expression. “I’ll pay for your cab home. Okay?”
“Awesome,” Crosby said. “Anyway, you know Miles Delaney, that producer who does the reality show, Marry Me? Well, he bumps into me on the dance floor and we start talking. When he found out my PR firm is doing the annual bachelor auction…are you even listening? I told you about it last month, Maxie! You promised to do makeup.”
“On the bachelors?” Stuart pushed himself to standing and joined them at the kitchen counter. He dipped his finger around Crosby’s, helping himself to the frosting.
Maxine eyed her clutch beside the lamp. “I’ll call that cab.”
“He wants me to apply!” She squealed and handed the frosting to Stuart. “Isn’t that awes—”
“Do you here that?” Stuart looked down the short hallway. Music was coming from behind the bedroom door.
“I was watching shows on my laptop,” Maxine said. “I guess it came on by itself.”
“Shows?” Stuart put the frosting down on the counter. “That’s the Hockey Night in Canada theme.” He was at the bedroom door in three steps and then the music stopped.
“Anyway.” Crosby took Maxine by the shoulders. “Guess who is going to be entering the next Marry Me auditions?”
“No!” Maxine cried out, as Stuart opened the door and stepped into her bedroom.
“Hey,” Crosby sounded hurt. “I’d be fantastic.”
Maxine rushed in behind Stuart. Her open laptop was on her bed, exactly where she’d left it before she and Crosby went to the club. The closet door was wide open. She eyed the bed suspiciously. There’s no way he’d be able to fit under it. Then her gaze went to the bathroom door.
“Weird,” Stuart looked around and shrugged. Then he made his way to her bathroom.
“Stop!” Maxine grabbed his elbow. “I have to piss,” he said.
“Can’t you wait?” Maxine tried to get in front of the door.
“Do you have any idea how hard my kidneys have been working tonight?”
“I, um…it’s not fit in there. The mint went right through me.”
“I’ll plug my nose.” He pushed past her and closed the door.