Night and Day Page 5

  Finally, she broke. She was picking a font—sans-serif and boldly masculine—when she felt his gaze on her again. “Spit it out.”

  “W—what?”

  “Say what you want to say to me.”

  The man, the huge, burly man, blushed. Maybe he needed some serif in his font, after all? “I can’t.”

  Letty rolled her eyes. She’d had enough emotionally stunted über-masculine shit to last her a lifetime. Her father had always used her mother and sister as his emotional translators, and that was one of many parts of the Gonzalez family dynamics that she was loath to continue.

  Max stood up and put his pencil behind his ear. The blush faded, and his energy shifted, turning into something fierce and almost predatory. Her insides melted when he stood up, his T-shirt gone taut over his washboard abs. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

  He advanced on her, and it was her turn to blush. “Yes.”

  “Why’d you do that?”

  “You were being ridiculous.”

  “How was looking at you ridiculous?”

  “I’m your assistant, not your date to the prom.”

  He took what seemed like just a few steps, and she could smell him. Looking at him was difficult enough for her girl parts to ignore. The look and the smell combined were lethal. And he smiled at her. The first few days, she’d assumed that his face couldn’t quite make that shape.

  “My date for prom was nothing like you.”

  Of course, she probably had at least fifty pounds on his date for prom. The reminder that she was nothing like a woman he’d want to date—that he was just teasing her—was like a bucket of cold water on her libido. She looked down at her laptop and tried to concentrate on her task at hand despite the fact that he wasn’t moving away, and he still hadn’t stopped staring at her.

  “What do you think of this template?”

  He glanced at the monitor, but his gaze immediately snapped back on her. “It looks great.”

  “You didn’t even really look at it.” Frustration built, and she could barely keep it out of her voice. Being around Max was sort of revolutionary. Most of the time, with most people she could keep her emotions firmly under the surface. She never had to really show herself to anyone. With Max, from the first time she’d walked into his studio, she’d felt as though her hard, candy-coated veneer was completely gone. “I wanted to do something bold and simple, to let the work shine through.”

  “That’s exactly what I want.”

  “But you didn’t look at it.” She swiveled on the stool and faced him head on. She’d had enough of Simon trying to interfere with her actual job to get a hand job during the work day. That’s what had ultimately led to her firing. She’d allowed him to distract her with the attention and sex and the promise of love that she’d craved for so long. She would not make the same mistake with Max—she couldn’t afford to.

  “I’m looking at exactly what I want in my eyeline.”

  Fury pulsed under her skin, mixing with the lust. She couldn’t shake the idea that Max was playing games with her the same way that Simon had. She hated that her ex had taken the ability to trust her own instincts and used it against her. Must have been the only reason she poked him in the chest. “I’m here to do a job.”

  That chastened him. He took a step back. “I’m not trying to be a creeper.”

  “You don’t have to try that hard.”

  The blush was back. “I thought there was chemistry here.”

  There was, and she had to decide right then and there whether to lie to him about it. “I’m here to do a job.” A lie, without the actual lie.

  “Yes, but you’re also here because Lola thinks we’d be a good match.”

  “I’ve never met this Lola woman, and it wasn’t part of my contract.”

  “I’m not saying that it was.” He ran a hand through his hair, which sent a ripple of want through her belly. “I just thought—was I wrong here?”

  “No. You know you’re a very attractive man.” She held up a hand to keep him from interrupting her. She’d never done that before, but he was easy to talk to despite his general grumpiness. He would be so easy to fall into and forget everything. And he wanted her, she could feel that. Even though her instincts felt broken when it came to knowing whether a man wanted her, even a broken instinct worked twice a day. This wasn’t something that happened every day, which made it so hard to say no. For now. “But I really need this to stay professional, while I’m working for you.”

  It killed her to keep this professional. If this was happening pre-Simon, she’d have climbed in his lap and pressed her mouth to his right then. Suddenly, she was angry at Simon all over again for stealing that from her.

  He looked as though he wanted to ask her questions, like why this was so important to her. But he just nodded, smile gone, and returned to his desk. She thought she was off the hook until he said, “That only goes for the next twelve days, right?”

  Maybe she wasn’t just conveniently there for Max to perv on? If that was truly the case, it made her sick to push him away. Maybe there was something about her that compelled him just as much as she lusted after him. When she was no longer his employee, could she give in? Would word spread around town that she was sleeping with him so that he’d recommend her services? Or would any other man she worked with think she was fair game because she’d slept with him?

  But maybe there was a way that they could give in without making it public? Under normal circumstances—if they’d met at a party or bar unconnected to the art world—if a man like Max had looked at her liked he’d looked at her a few moments ago, she wouldn’t have hesitated to bring him home to her tiny apartment and take everything he was offering with his hot gaze.

  But, as her client, he was totally off limits. She’d never wished that she hadn’t gotten involved with Simon more. If she’d hadn’t gotten personally involved with a boss before, she wouldn’t be so worried about her reputation right then. She could throw caution to the wind and take off all her clothes with Max right now. The idea of him taking her on top of his work space made her panties grow wet and her lips go dry.

  “After we’re done, I’ll think about it.”

  * * * *

  There was a good chance that Max was going to get sued for sexual harassment because his grandmother had wanted him to get married. That, and the woman she wanted him to marry made him feel so incredibly out of control. He didn’t have a track record of trying to corner women he worked with into sleeping with him, and he’d totally misread the room this time.

  Sure, Letty had worn the signs of physical arousal all over her face and in the flush across her chest, but that didn’t mean she wanted him. He should have listened to the words coming out of her mouth. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to her hesitation than a chance that he repulsed her.

  Maybe it had something to do with the reason she’d left Art Basel? He could ask around, but that had him feeling like just as much of a creeper as he’d felt like when he’d loomed over her in his studio.

  The fact that he’d failed to either seduce his assistant or get any meaningful work done had him in a foul mood by the time he got home. Definitely not the mood he wanted to see his abuela in.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Surprisingly strong, she pulled him into an embrace he had to bend almost in half to complete. “That’s not a respectful way to greet your elders.”

  “Elders usually command respect.” He kissed her on her aged, but still-smooth cheek. “They usually don’t ambush their descendants with an assistant.”

  Lola pulled back and turned her full charismatic force on Max. She was a terrifying woman when she put her mind to it. As much as he’d enjoyed getting to know his grandmother over the past couple of years since she’d immigrated permanently, he’d learned to run for cov
er when she got a certain look on her face. The evil gleam in her eyes meant she was going to start throwing things or try to manipulate him into giving her something that she wanted.

  He was guessing the latter.

  “I don’t need a girlfriend.”

  “No, you need a wife.”

  “Definitely don’t need one of those.”

  He motioned her into his loft and walked over to the island where there was an open bottle of scotch. He poured himself a glass, and his grandmother gave him a pointed look until he poured one for her.

  “Must be tough, not having any hooch in the house.”

  She shrugged. “If your mother can’t have it around, I’ll suffer it.”

  “Plus, you’re not spending all that much time at home.” He took a bracing sip of the Oban 14—a luxury, but a worthy one. The smoky peat seared his throat, sealing up all the words he wanted to toss out at his grandmother. “You’re spending a lot of time with Abuelo.”

  “I’m not here to talk about that.”

  Max couldn’t stop himself from laughing at that. “You can’t keep your hands off each other after being bitterly divorced for three-and-a-half decades.” He put his glass down and leaned onto the counter so that he would be closer to eye-level with Lola. “And we’re not supposed to talk about it?”

  “You children are obsessed with two old people having sex. With each other.”

  To be honest, Max didn’t spend any time thinking about his grandparents doing the nasty. The past two days, he’d mostly thought about himself doing the nasty with Letty. “Just because you’re getting it on the regular, doesn’t mean that I need to get married.”

  Lola plopped herself down on one of his barstools, extinguishing any hope he’d had of her leaving him alone tonight. “I don’t want you to give Letty a chance because I’m happy with Rogelio.”

  “Then what are you trying to do?” Laura had told him that their grandmother felt guilty for abandoning the family but marrying all of them off was a step too far. And it wouldn’t do anything to ameliorate her guilt in the long run when they all fucked up their relationships—except for Laura. She seemed really happy. Still, that didn’t mean he should just give in.

  “Your parents—” She stopped and seemed to consider her words carefully. “They did more damage than I ever could have imagined to you children.”

  “We’re not children.” And it was too late to fix anything about how their parents had raised them. They were fucked up, and they were stuck with their issues for life. Laura had mostly escaped because she’d been so young when she’d left home to go to school for ballet that their parents hadn’t gotten their claws nearly as deep inside his baby sister. “You can’t fix this.”

  “I know that.” She shook her head, and her punk rock purple hair didn’t move. “But that’s not what I’m trying to do right now.”

  “What are you trying to do?”

  “Push you in the right direction.”

  “And you think Letty is the right direction?” Maybe if he forced Lola to articulate why she’d set them up, he could figure out for himself why he was so drawn to the woman. “She’s not my usual type.”

  She was gorgeous, but just different from the women he usually met connected to the art world. He wasn’t blind to her larger body size, but it didn’t matter to him. He found everything about her appealing.

  “There’s something about her that seems pure—untouched.”

  “You tried to find me a virgin?” That made even less sense than his grandmother trying to pick them off and shove them into marriages.

  Lola giggled. “No, she just seemed very positive.”

  “You haven’t even met her.” Although his grandmother’s assessment of his new assistant was accurate, he wondered how his grandmother had gleaned that from a website.

  “I work in mysterious ways.” Another shrug and sip told him she thought she’d won this round, that Max was going to go after Letty.

  “Is ‘mysterious ways’ the new diagnosis for dementia?” He wasn’t going to give Lola an inch. Even though Letty wasn’t interested in him and might not even show up for work the next day because of his terrible behavior around her, any encouragement from him would only make his grandmother try harder next time.

  “I don’t want to get married, Abuela.” He rounded the island so he could be close to her. She needed to hear him. “I’m too much like him.”

  Lola’s Te voy a dar un tronpon por la boca rocked Max’s spine straight. He’d never heard Lola call anyone anything worse than pendejo. Now, she was about to smack him in the mouth. Even taken aback, there was part of Max’s brain that wished Lola had been around when he was a kid. She had the kind of iron will that his mother had lacked. Even though she was in her own fucked-up thing with her ex-husband, she didn’t lose herself in him. She wasn’t in the same position as his mother, who had to figure out who she was in her fifties.

  Then, Lola shocked him again by grabbing him by the beard. The tug of her fingers was painful, but he had the feeling she wanted his attention and was just being overzealous about it. “You are nothing like him. Nothing.”

  “I have the same bad temper.”

  “You wouldn’t hurt anyone.” She tugged harder when his eyes rolled. There was no way she knew that about him—she was practically a stranger. “Is this why you’ve never dated anyone longer than six months?”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Joaquin.”

  Fucker. “Yes. I’m not good for anyone. Too fucking moody. Someone like Letty—” Someone who bubbled with light and laughed easily. Someone vulnerable. “I would hurt her. She wouldn’t be her anymore after too much time with me.”

  Lola stood up and let go of his beard to cup his face. Max’s back was starting to feel the strain of staying bent at eye-level.

  “The fact that you would keep yourself lonely just to avoid the tiniest risk of becoming your father.” Tears welled in his grandmother’s eyes and made Max ache. “That tells me you are nothing like that man.”

  “She doesn’t like me that way.” He might as well confess everything now. Lola was truly a master interrogator. The government should study her techniques.

  “How do you know?” The tears vanished as the twinkle returned. “I thought you sent her away.”

  “She wouldn’t let me fire her.”

  Lola let go of his face to clap her hands together in glee. “I knew she was the right girl.”

  “But this is a job for her.” Max grabbed his scotch from the island and drank the rest down in a fiery gulp. “I thought she wanted me to kiss her yesterday, but she said ‘no.’”

  “Well, then. She’s stupid.” Lola’s mouth made a grim line. “You’re too handsome to say no to. You have my genes.”

  Max laughed again. He was twice her size, had different coloring, and he was a man. They looked nothing alike. “No. I think there’s something with her last job. I think it got ugly there.”

  “You have to convince her that you’re the right one for sure.”

  “But I’m not the right one for her.” Though his grandmother’s assurance that he was not his father was trying to burrow a hole in his brain and heart, he still wasn’t convinced that he was the right person for anyone.

  “I know you don’t believe that, but I do and that’s enough.”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Make sure we’re happy. Despite what you think, we’re not children. We can make choices and live with the consequences.” This conversation made the depth of his grandmother’s guilt crystal clear.

  “If I had been able to swallow my pride and move here before my baby girl got involved with Alejandro.” Oh shit, the tears were back. “Maybe I could have stopped it. She was so young.”

  Max pulled his grandmother into a
hug. “Then none of us would be here, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “What are you going to do about Letty?”

  Always pushing her agenda.

  “I’m going to apologize for creating a hostile work environment.”

  Chapter 6

  Letty struggled to keep her head high walking into work the next day. She had nothing to be ashamed of, but she couldn’t help wondering if Max would get mad about her telling him no. That’s what her ex would have done. Whenever she’d denied him anything—time, money to do something, butt sex—he’d sulked.

  She tried to tell herself that Max wouldn’t do that. Even though he was a grump, he was so different from Simon. Not just the way he looked—ruggedly masculine instead of polished and debonair—but the way he made her feel. Still, she couldn’t trust it enough to start an affair with her second boss in a row.

  Regardless, she was ready to give him the benefit of the doubt and start with a clean slate as she set up her laptop and pulled up his website. Even if her every instinct was screaming at her not to trust someone she’d just met—someone who hadn’t even wanted her here and already hit on her. That was the worst thing about what Simon had done to her; he’d made her believe that she couldn’t trust herself. Of all the things he’d stolen from her—things she’d handed over stupidly—that was the worst.

  Her relief when he wasn’t at his worktable was like a tangible thing in her body. Even though she had a nagging worry about the true conditions of her employment, she couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t jump him given another opportunity. And then the thought that he was up in his loft with some woman that he’d picked up because she’d turned him down sat on her brain and twisted her insides. Even if they couldn’t do it for two more weeks, she didn’t want him doing it with anyone else.