That afternoon, Sherman lugged a box fan upstairs and Max arranged her latest works along the back wall with a stream of air circulating across them.
“That should do it,” Merrick said.
“If you need any help setting up,” Sherman offered, “just let me know.”
“Jon said he’d send a truck from Claremont Design Group on Wednesday to transport the paintings.”
“I’ll come and help you with the loading,” Sherman said. “Knock on my door when the truck comes. It’s a great thing that you’re getting your own show, Max.” He sauntered out, leaving Max and Merrick alone.
“That Jon guy is strange,” Merrick said.
A queasy feeling stirred in Max’s stomach. “What do you know about Jon?”
“I forgot to tell you that he dropped by earlier while you were out.”
“Here? Jon was here?” Max suppressed the desire to scream. “What did he want? What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. He just said he’d wanted to meet me and that he’d see me at the show.”
She stared at Merrick with her mouth open. “He didn’t want to see me?”
“He didn’t say so if he did. He looked around and left.”
She stifled the urge to hurl her last meal. “Did you introduce yourself? Tell him your name?”
He looked thoughtful. “No. He asked if I was Foster and I told him yes.”
She covered her face with both hands. “He thought you were me,” she said.
“Don’t be goofy,” Merrick ruffled her hair with a grin. “Nobody would mistake me for you.”
“He still thinks Max Foster is a man,” she said. “He thinks my name is Millie.”
“Whoa! This calls for a beer. I can’t follow soap opera plots without a beer.”
He took two longnecks out of the crisper and joined her by the futon.
“From the beginning.” Merrick twisted off the lid and handed a bottle to Max. “Tell me how this Jon guy got to be confused as to your gender.” He sat on the futon and patted the space beside him. “From the top.”
Max threw herself down in a pout. “He thinks I’m a man because I lied to him. No, I didn’t exactly lie to him. He commissioned two of my abstracts through Willa but I’d never met him. He came by here dressed like he belonged in GQ, looking for Max Foster. He expected to find a man and I didn’t correct him. Willa thinks I was pissed off because my previous slick, fancy dressed man was such a rat. I never expected to see Jon again, but I see him all the time now and it just keeps getting worse.”
“Who is Millie?”
“That’s the name Willa gave me. Now Jon claims to be in love with Millie and I met his parents, and they think I’m Millie.” She sat up and looked at Merrick. “I think I’m in love with him, but I can’t be in love with a man who doesn’t even know my name.”
Merrick let out a low whistle. “That’s pretty weird, Max, even for you.”
“I know.” She fell back on the futon. “Have you ever heard such a twisted tale of lies and deceit?”
Merrick poured a long swallow of beer down his throat. “Maybe.”
~*~
Merrick left by late afternoon.
Max wandered aimlessly around the loft. She adjusted the fan on the paintings drying against the back wall and then ran her hand over the rippled face of a glass block. She was reluctant to begin another painting as it would be too wet to transport and, for once, she wasn’t in the mood to paint. Jon Donnell filled her head with images she’d rather not replay.
Using a box cutter, she sliced through the plastic material keeping the glass attached to the pallets. Max picked up two blocks and stacked them together against the brick wall. She spent the rest of the day erecting a temporary enclosure to separate her bathroom from the rest of the loft. They were only stacked four blocks high but the area was defined. She had boundaries.
As the sun was setting, Willa came by with a bag from a fast food restaurant.
“Even though you bought groceries, I knew you wouldn’t be eating,” she said.
Max grabbed the bag, peering inside. “So you thought you’d come save me from starvation with a bag of grease burgers?”
“I considered getting salads, but I really needed greasy onion rings and fries.” Willa picked up one end of the futon, turning it to face the glass construction and sat down. “I see you’ve been remodeling.”
“What do you think?” Max piled the food on a single plate and helped herself to a burger. “It makes a big difference, doesn’t it?”
Willa nodded. “Surprisingly, yes.” Her cell phone rang and she answered. A slow grin spread across her face.
“Where have you been?” Merrick’s voice boomed.
“I’m at your sister’s loft. You should see what she’s done with the place.”
“I’m coming over,” he said and rang off.
“A man of few words,” she said.
“Things seems to be going well between the two of you,” Max said.
“I can’t talk about it. On the slim chance that we’ll live happily ever after, I have to keep my big mouth shut for a change.”
“Your face speaks volumes,” Max said. “And he’s not coming over here for me. Merrick is sick and tired of me. He built stretcher frames and framed and packaged most of my paintings for the show. I didn’t expect to see him until time to load the truck.”
“You can always depend on Merrick. He’s a very supportive brother.”
“He really seems to be into you.”
“What about the cop?” Willa asked.
“He doesn’t tell me a thing. Please don’t care too deeply about Merrick,” Max said. “I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt.”
“I’m trying to stay away from the edge.” Willa grinned as they heard Merrick yell and pound on the door.
“You answer it,” Max said. “It’s not for me.” She went to her kitchen sink to rinse the grease from her hands and to allow a little privacy. She hoped that encouraging Willa to go after Merrick wouldn’t end in disaster. She was afraid it might wind up with Willa washing her hands of the whole Foster clan.
It was too late to break in a new best female friend.
~*~
Merrick banged on Max’s door again. “Open up!”
Willa opened the heavy door, her tongue casually reaching out for a French fry.
Merrick stood in the open doorway watching as she slowly licked the salt off her fingers.
He growled, “What are you trying to do to me. I’m only human.”
“Way too human,” Willa said. “Have a burger.”
“C’mon in, bro,” Max called. “You got here quickly.”
“Yeah, you better be careful,” Willa said, offering him the plate of food. “If you’re speeding you might attract a cop.”
He met her smirk as he unwrapped the burger. “How fast do I have to go to attract an agent?”
“You have to slow way down,” she purred.
“What do you think of my handiwork?” Max asked as she returned from the kitchen.
He looked at the block she’d arranged, seemingly noticing it for the first time. “It looks good,” he said. He made short work of the burger, wiping his hands on a napkin as he inspected her work.
“I stacked it on the chalk line you drew.”
“Be careful,” he said. “It’s not too steady. Okay, I get the hint. I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll build the walls...but...” He turned to face them. “I’m going to need two lovely helpers ready, willing and able to carry out my every wish.”
Max spoke to Willa in a stage whisper. “My brother has always had fantasies of being a brain surgeon. He thinks we’re his assistants.”
“You’re my slave, Max,” he said. “You have to convince Willa to be my slave as well.”
Max and Merrick turned two sets of denim blue eyes on Willa and flashed the dimples.
“Tomorrow? Does it have to be tomorrow?”
“The paintings will have to
be loaded up and transported to the gallery the next day. Then we’ll have to set everything up.” Max pressed her palms together. “Pretty please with fried onion rings on it.”
“Of course I’ll help you and I’ll be your brother’s slave. What are friends for?”
They made plans for the next day and Willa slipped out saying she had to get her beauty sleep. Merrick followed her into the hall to get a kiss.
“Tomorrow night,” he said.
“What’s happening tomorrow night?” she asked.
“I’m asking you to dinner.”
“A real date?”
“Just the two of us. I’ll pick you up and everything.”
Willa took a deep breath. “Are you trying to impress me or something?”
“Yes.”
“It’s about time,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’ll be in my work clothes. You can bring breakfast this time because you know Max won’t think of it.”
“Aye-aye, Skipper,” he said with a salute. He leaned toward her and she reached up to embrace him. When she left, he felt disappointed that she hadn’t stayed.
“What’s the matter, bro?” Max asked. “Did you lose something?”
“I hope not,” he said. He made a few notes about materials and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Max said. “Help me carry the trash down to the dumpster. I cleaned the science experiments out of the refrigerator, and the rest is debris from the framing.”
Merrick took two of the plastic bags and Max carried the other one. They walked out to the parking lot, chatting amiably. Merrick swung the bags into the dumpster and Max applauded.
Merrick bowed low and grabbed her around the waist, swinging her around in circles.
Max laughed. “What’s all this?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Can’t a guy be happy?”
“I’m happy to get some walls.” She let out a whoop as he made a grab for her and chased her as far as his truck. “Seriously, Merrick,” she said. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me lately, and I’m thrilled you’re going to help me with the walls tomorrow, but...”
“But? You tell me all that and there’s a ‘but’ attached to it?” He reached out to ruffle her hair.
“But,” she continued, “If you hurt my best friend in the whole wide world I’m going to sink your boat.”
He gave her a hard look. “You tell your best friend not to hurt me.” He clasped both hands over his heart and made them pulse like a heartbeat.
She stared up at him. “Don’t tell me that Superman has found his kryptonite.” She threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Be good to each other,” she admonished. She turned and waved as Merrick pulled out into the street.
~*~
Jon Donnell sat behind the wheel of his vintage vehicle watching her disappear into the building. He felt like he’d been sucker punched.
He’d just turned off the ignition when Max Foster had walked out with Millie. They looked like any young, attractive couple doing chores. They were playing around like kids, but it had been more than that. He was touching her in a familiar way and they’d hugged and kissed. It was obvious to Jon that they were in love.
What a fool he’d been. She’d told him straight up on their first encounter that she was very close to Max Foster. He hadn’t wanted to believe her.
Jon sat for some time, gripping the steering wheel and reviewing everything she’d told him. She denied having a physical relationship with Foster.
She lied to me.
He rolled down the window and inhaled the night air as deep shadows gathered in the lot. A security light buzzed and came on, flooding the parking lot with its harsh glare.
He couldn’t bear to drive away. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.
It was entirely his fault. Jon reasoned that he’d relentlessly pursued her, when she obviously wasn’t interested. He’d forced her into a relationship when she was already involved. But she could have told him the truth. He’d have been disappointed, but not like this. He started his car and slowly pulled out into the street.
Jon drove to his penthouse suite by rote. He felt as though he was in a daze; numb except for the hollow ache inside.
As he unlocked his door, he recalled that not twenty-four hours earlier he’d brought her here. He’d charmed and seduced her and now he was alone. He entered his bedroom and sank onto his bed, burying his face in the spot where she had lain. He recalled her little cries of pleasure and the way she’d returned his kisses. He inhaled her scent and let the pain wash over him.
In the early morning hours, Jon Donnell shook himself out of his stupor.
He knew he had to fight for her. Millie couldn’t have faked her attraction to him. Whatever else, he was in love with her. If there was a chance he could win her heart, he had to take it. Whatever the cost, he couldn’t walk away from her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The next morning Merrick was at the door early with Willa on his heels. He brought his tools and a load of lumber and drywall up in the freight elevator. He’d also brought a selection of bagels, two flavors of cream cheese and a jar of strawberry preserves with him.
Willa toasted the bagels and he made coffee.
“The two of you look like the picture of domestic bliss,” Max said. “I think I’m gonna puke, or something.”
Max made a face at him. “I don’t even drink coffee.”
“True, but maybe some day you’ll meet someone who does and you’ll wish you knew how.”
Max snorted. “Someday, I’ll be a rich and famous artist and hire someone to drive to Starbuck’s for me.”
“Dream on,” Merrick said.
“Eat up, children,” Willa said. “We have walls to build.”
Merrick framed in the proposed walls around the toilet while Max and Willa peeled the plastic wrapping off the glass block.
He removed his shirt, giving Willa a show as his lean, tanned muscles flexed in counterpoint to his labors.
“He’s pretty good with that nail gun,” Willa said loud enough for him to hear. He grinned at her. “Did you ever notice how hot men look when they’re using power tools?” She made a fanning motion.
Max rolled her eyes. “I was thinking men in Wranglers and cowboy boots were really hot.”
“Or without them.” Willa caught Max’s eye and they burst into giggles.
He finished the framing and ran electrical conduit to the small enclosure. “You’ll need a light fixture and I suggest a vent with a fan. We can take a run to the store later.”
“This is so cool! You put my commode in jail.” Max grinned as she admired Merrick’s framing job. “What’s next?”
“If you ladies will join me,” he announced, “we’re ready to drywall.”
Merrick nailed the sheetrock into place and showed them how to tape and float the seams. “Nice and smooth, just like you’re frosting a cake.” He laughed abruptly. “Excuse me. I forgot who I was talking to.”
“I frosted a cake once,” Max said.
“I remember it well.”
The toilet enclosure was framed, wired, rocked and floated. There was no door and the mud had to dry but it had walls around it.
Merrick informed them that he was taking a break. He opened the window to the fire escape and leaned out. Willa handed him a bottle of water.
“Thanks.” He gestured to the window. “Want to go up stairs with me?”
“This is the top floor,” Willa replied.
“I’m going to the roof.” He stepped out onto the metal grating.
“Be careful, Merrick.” Willa reached out to him. “Those stairs aren’t safe.”
He squatted outside the window and took in the concern written on her face. “Don’t worry, baby. I’d never put you in danger. Sherman and I welded the pla
ces that were rusted and broken off last week.”
She expelled the breath she’d been holding.
“Come on up with me.” He extended his hand to her.
Willa hesitated, reaching toward him and then drawing her hand back.
Merrick patiently held his hand for her. She placed her hand in his and allowed herself to be drawn out onto the metal framework. “Look up.” He held onto her waist to guide her. When they reached the top, he led her to the opposite side of the roof.
The view of Houston was unobstructed. Large, puffy cumulus clouds floated in the blue sky and the sun warmed their skin.
“This is beautiful,” she said.
“I discovered it last week,” he said. “I wanted you to see it.”
“That’s really sweet.” Willa grinned at him. “I’m not used to you being sweet to me. I’m accustomed to the terse, teasing Merrick who chased me with frogs and garter snakes.”
“Is that what you slick, sophisticated city girls like?” Merrick turned her around by her shoulders.
She grinned up at him, squinting in the bright sunlight. “That’s how I first knew you liked me.”
Merrick considered a moment. “You want me to chase you with reptiles and amphibians?”