again.
By the time she reached the third level, her phone rang.
Chapter Seven
After signing the last page, Max handed the contract to Alden. He grabbed his coffee from the table, taking a deep sip. Not even eight in the morning, and he was already on his fourth cup. For some reason, neither the caffeine nor the shower he took at the crack of dawn gave him the energy he needed—doubtless, because today was different from all the rest. This was the one day he set everything aside to grieve for the loss of Cameron, the one person he’d failed in so many ways.
He checked his watch. Catherine would arrive soon to join in his bereavement.
Alden tucked the contract inside his briefcase. “That’s one more thing I can check off of my To Do list.” He finished his espresso and covered a yawn with his fist.
There had been only a handful of times over the last four years where Max requested his assistant to come to his penthouse before the start of normal business hours. His aide knew better than to complain. He would be well compensated for his dedication.
“You have a list?” The idea humored Max. He stood, slipping his hand in his pants pockets while he viewed the city skyline from twenty-five stories up. Rain fell from the overcast sky, slapping the window.
“I always make a list. I might have a fabulous memory, but I feel more accomplished when I cross out one of the many interesting assignments you make me do.”
He snorted at the touch of petulance in the young man’s voice. “You can start on those interesting assignments when you get into the office. Remember, I’m not to be disturbed for any reason today.”
His assistant nodded. “Want me to stay until Catherine arrives?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” He glanced at the fruit and pastries on the dining room table. She liked her sweets. He hoped breakfast would cheer her up. When she called the night before, she’d sounded far too somber with tears in her voice.
He approached Alden and ruffled the man’s hair just to get a rise out of him. “I’ll even let you take one of the Danishes you’ve been salivating over since you arrived.”
The young guy shot from the couch, grumbling under his breath as he took a comb out of his pocket and restyled his hair.
When the doorbell rang, Max answered it. “Jesus, Catherine, you look like shit.”
She wore faded jeans and a gray turtleneck under an oversized hoodie that washed out her pale face and brought attention to her bloodshot eyes.
“Thanks for the compliment, Maxwell ,” she growled and pushed him aside. “What’s he doing here?”
“Alden stopped by with some contracts I had to sign. He was just leaving.” He held the door open and signaled for his assistant to exit. The man had a bad habit of antagonizing Catherine whenever they ended up in each other’s company. The first time she met Alden, she didn’t fall for his overtures that worked on most women he invited to his bed. Since then, he hadn’t been civil with her—but then, neither had she.
“Dressed appropriately for the weather, I see.” Alden smirked, scanning her from head to toe, then leering at her chest hidden behind her hoodie. “Wearing the new five-dollar bargain bin line this winter, I see.”
“You’re always so witty,” she volleyed back. “At least you don’t have to worry about the rain ruining your helmet hair because of all the overpriced gel you use.” She sat on the couch.
“Enough you two,” Max said, drumming his fingers against the doorframe.
After scooping up a cinnamon Danish from a plate on the table, Alden grabbed his briefcase and coat. “Stay out of trouble, Cat,” he sneered.
“Thanks for coming out this early. I appreciate it.” Max clapped him on the back.
“Anything for you, boss.” Juggling his briefcase and Danish, he pulled on his coat. Sympathy crossed his face. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”
“Take care.” He shut the door then joined Catherine on the
By the time she reached the third level, her phone rang.
Chapter Seven
After signing the last page, Max handed the contract to Alden. He grabbed his coffee from the table, taking a deep sip. Not even eight in the morning, and he was already on his fourth cup. For some reason, neither the caffeine nor the shower he took at the crack of dawn gave him the energy he needed—doubtless, because today was different from all the rest. This was the one day he set everything aside to grieve for the loss of Cameron, the one person he’d failed in so many ways.
He checked his watch. Catherine would arrive soon to join in his bereavement.
Alden tucked the contract inside his briefcase. “That’s one more thing I can check off of my To Do list.” He finished his espresso and covered a yawn with his fist.
There had been only a handful of times over the last four years where Max requested his assistant to come to his penthouse before the start of normal business hours. His aide knew better than to complain. He would be well compensated for his dedication.
“You have a list?” The idea humored Max. He stood, slipping his hand in his pants pockets while he viewed the city skyline from twenty-five stories up. Rain fell from the overcast sky, slapping the window.
“I always make a list. I might have a fabulous memory, but I feel more accomplished when I cross out one of the many interesting assignments you make me do.”
He snorted at the touch of petulance in the young man’s voice. “You can start on those interesting assignments when you get into the office. Remember, I’m not to be disturbed for any reason today.”
His assistant nodded. “Want me to stay until Catherine arrives?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” He glanced at the fruit and pastries on the dining room table. She liked her sweets. He hoped breakfast would cheer her up. When she called the night before, she’d sounded far too somber with tears in her voice.
He approached Alden and ruffled the man’s hair just to get a rise out of him. “I’ll even let you take one of the Danishes you’ve been salivating over since you arrived.”
The young guy shot from the couch, grumbling under his breath as he took a comb out of his pocket and restyled his hair.
When the doorbell rang, Max answered it. “Jesus, Catherine, you look like shit.”
She wore faded jeans and a gray turtleneck under an oversized hoodie that washed out her pale face and brought attention to her bloodshot eyes.
“Thanks for the compliment, Maxwell ,” she growled and pushed him aside. “What’s he doing here?”
“Alden stopped by with some contracts I had to sign. He was just leaving.” He held the door open and signaled for his assistant to exit. The man had a bad habit of antagonizing Catherine whenever they ended up in each other’s company. The first time she met Alden, she didn’t fall for his overtures that worked on most women he invited to his bed. Since then, he hadn’t been civil with her—but then, neither had she.
“Dressed appropriately for the weather, I see.” Alden smirked, scanning her from head to toe, then leering at her chest hidden behind her hoodie. “Wearing the new five-dollar bargain bin line this winter, I see.”
“You’re always so witty,” she volleyed back. “At least you don’t have to worry about the rain ruining your helmet hair because of all the overpriced gel you use.” She sat on the couch.
“Enough you two,” Max said, drumming his fingers against the doorframe.
After scooping up a cinnamon Danish from a plate on the table, Alden grabbed his briefcase and coat. “Stay out of trouble, Cat,” he sneered.
“Thanks for coming out this early. I appreciate it.” Max clapped him on the back.
“Anything for you, boss.” Juggling his briefcase and Danish, he pulled on his coat. Sympathy crossed his face. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”
“Take care.” He shut the door then joined Catherine on the
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