Janie (The Casanova Club Book 15) Page 6

  Her honesty was refreshing. Once again, Janie rose to the occasion and spoke what was in her heart.

  “There is no place for should-have’s anymore,” I said softly. “We made the choices we believed were right at the time and that’s all we could do. But I’d be a fool if I said I didn’t have regrets too. I wish things had ended differently for us.”

  “Me too.”

  I lifted my glass of water in a toast. “Here’s to us being able to sit down and have a meal together again, and the promise of good things to come.”

  Janie smiled radiantly at me. “I can’t wait.”

  Chapter 9

  Janie

  It took half a month, but I finally felt settled at Max’s office.

  I knew most of the faces by name—at least of the people who worked up here on the top floor around Max and me all day. There were approximately thirty or forty of us up here running around like chickens with our heads cut off.

  There was the receptionist, a young woman named Sheila Grace. Yes, she went by both names. She was new to the team and recruited from an Apple store apparently, where she ran point on all appointments and spearheaded all the organization tasks when it came to training the staff or working with inventory. She appreciated order and minimization and both of those qualities made her exceptional behind her desk, where she referred calls to their appropriate places throughout the office and worked diligently with Shawn, Max’s assistant, to make sure the boss’s schedule made sense and no important clients or meetings were being overlooked.

  She also worked closely with me since I was the office manager. She’d been a godsend, really. At the end of my first week last week, I’d been so overwhelmed by all the things on my to-do list that I hadn’t even realized I’d been staring at my computer monitor, unseeing, for about twenty-five minutes.

  Sheila Grace wandered over to my door, knocked, and invited me to go for a quick walk outside to grab chai tea lattes.

  I’d agreed mostly because I was eager to potentially make a friend, not because I thought I needed the fresh air. But wow, had the stroll made a difference for my mental state.

  The sprawling, organic, rounded, sleek design of the Mothership, as everyone here called the Apple Headquarters building, made much more sense as I wandered through it for a second time. When I walked it with Max, I’d been impressed by the architecture and amenities. As I strolled through with Sheila Grace and experienced the benefits of moving my body, breathing fresh air, and being surrounded by so many trees and fresh grass, I realized part of this design had been intentional to relieve stress amongst employees.

  Working in tech wasn’t easy. Office jobs had a tendency to smother creativity. This place did the opposite. By the end of the walk, I felt rejuvenated, and I returned to my desk with a clear mind and restored faith in myself that I could check everything off my to-do list by the end of the day if I just kept going.

  And that was what I did every day now. I took one lunch break and two walk breaks. I never sat at my desk for longer than a two-hour stretch and my productivity was better than it ever had been.

  However, that didn’t mean I wasn’t prone to distractions. Well, one distraction.

  Max himself.

  Our offices were too close together for me to resist looking up every now and then and stealing a glance in his direction. I’d almost always find him sitting at his desk with his head down. More often than not, he was on his cell phone.

  More often than not translated to all the damn time.

  Like right now, for example.

  I drummed the fingers of one hand on my desk restlessly while resting my chin in the other palm. Who was he talking to so frequently? And why did he consistently get up and pace around his office every time he was on the phone with this mystery person?

  He’d been pacing up until about two minutes ago, when he stopped with his back to me and a hand on his hip while he held his phone to his ear. His head was tilted back and I assumed he was looking up at the cloudless summer sky. Someone who didn’t know him as well might have looked at him and assumed he was on a work call.

  But I knew him better than that. He was stressed. I could see it in the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he fidgeted with his suit sleeves, the collar of his shirt, and the Rubik’s cube he kept on his desk.

  I watched as he lifted the hand from his hip, bowed his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Yes, something was certainly stressing him out.

  Over the past two weeks, things might have been going well for me work-wise, but I hadn’t spent nearly as much time with Max as I’d hoped. After he took me out for lunch on my first day, I expected it would become a regular, if not weekly, thing for us to do. We had so much to catch up on, so much lost time to make up for, but things felt just like they had between us when I still lived in New York.

  Distant. Strained. Stretched so thin I wondered if he even remembered I was there half the time. I sighed and wished Max didn’t own every thought racing through my mind this afternoon.

  He turned from the window but kept his head down, so I didn’t look away as he paced his office once more. He passed his desk, stopped, turned around, and walked back to the window. Like I’d noticed on my first day here, he moved gingerly—cautiously. This was not the Max I knew and loved.

  Or rather, used to love.

  I swallowed. Get a hold of yourself, woman.

  Max fell into one of the armchairs by his window. I watched, aching at the sight of how he was struggling, as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He wasn’t saying anything but the phone was still pressed to his ear as he listened to the person on the other end. Whatever they were saying didn’t seem to sit well with him because he began shaking his head.

  He closed his eyes and sighed.

  What’s going on with you, Max? I wondered as genuine worry began building up inside of me. Was he talking to his sister, Holly? Or his grandmother perhaps? Was her health failing her?

  I hope not.

  Max’s grandmother was more like his mother and father combined into one sweet, sassy, elderly badass lady who’d raised both him and Holly after their parents were tragically killed in a car accident. She was the apple of his eye and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

  Had something happened that he wasn’t telling me about?

  I shrugged that thought off. I wasn’t his girlfriend. I didn’t deserve to know anything. He didn’t have to share what he didn’t want to.

  But I wished he would. I wished he’d let me lighten the load for him and carry some of the burden for myself. I could handle it.

  Max rubbed at his eyes and started shaking his head.

  That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d been sitting around watching him for the better half of an hour and was falling into an old habit of not getting any work done. I pulled a page from Sheila Grace’s book, pushed up out of my desk, and marched out my office door toward reception, making for the elevators.

  I needed a stroll, one of those tasty cinnamon pastries they sold at my favorite cafe in the inner courtyard, and a cup of tea. Yes, that would do nicely.

  On my way to the elevator, I bumped into Shawn, Max’s assistant, who was muttering under his breath to himself as he crossed out things on his calendar. His eyes were always glued to that damn thing.

  Shawn glanced up and stepped back, apologizing for bumping into me. “I didn’t see you there, Janie.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” I teased. “Your nose is always stuck inside that thing.” I nodded pointedly at the black leatherbound calendar in his hands. “For a tech company, I’m surprised you do all this by hand.”

  “It’s easier.” Shawn scribbled something else out. “Max’s days are unpredictable and change too quickly. While I’m doing the initial planning, I like to use paper. Once I confirm it with him, I input it in his calendar so he can access it from any device.”

  I nodded along like I cared. “Can I ask you something, Sh
awn?”

  He let his arm fall to his side and tucked the calendar under it. “Shoot.”

  My gaze slid toward Max’s office, where he still sat leaning over in his chair. “Who’s he been talking to so much?”

  Shawn studied Max for a minute and sighed. “Has he been on the phone a lot?”

  “Every day, several times a day.”

  “No wonder shit isn’t getting done.”

  “Who is it?” I pressed.

  Shawn’s eyes, bright and full of energy and something else lying just beneath the surface that I couldn’t detect—worry, maybe—flicked back to me. “It’s a personal call.”

  That much I’d already figured out for myself but it still hurt to hear it. Part of me had been hopeful that Shawn would dismiss my concerns and tell me it was a client—someone who was unhappy and giving Max a run for his money as he tried to maintain a business relationship.

  But no, it was personal.

  As I stood there beside Shawn, I tried to convince myself the person on the other end of the call had to be his sister or his grandmother. Deep down I knew that wish was folly.

  Unable to help myself, I leaned on Shawn a bit more. “Is it his grandmother? Is she okay?”

  Shawn pulled his calendar back out from under his arm. “I can’t talk about this, Janie. I’m sorry but it’s Max’s business. If you want to know, you’ll have to ask him for yourself.”

  I sighed, pouted, and nodded. “I understand. You’re a good friend, Shawn.”

  “Tell that to Max,” Shawn said as he began walking back toward reception, his eyes down, his pencil scribbling once more. “He never listens to me.”

  I frowned and stared back into Max’s office.

  Was there another woman in his life? Someone causing him stress? Was that why nothing had happened between him and me since I came to Silicon Valley? Was that why he’d been all but ignoring me for the past two weeks?

  Go for your walk and clear your head, I thought.

  And that was what I did. I went down to the courtyard and ordered tea and the cinnamon pastry, and as I walked through the picturesque park, I called Piper to let out some of my frustrations. She listened intently as I told her that yes, Max was still ignoring me, and yes, he was receiving personal calls that took up hours of his workday.

  I’d already vented to her about this after my first week but she was patient and understanding nevertheless.

  “Janie?” Piper said my name delicately, which meant she was about to give me advice I might not want to hear.

  “Yes?”

  “I think you need to talk to him.”

  “And say what?” I asked a little sharper than I intended. I steadied my voice. “And say what? Hey, Max, I’m worried about you, but I’m also feeling intensely jealous over whoever it is you’re talking to on the phone and I deserve to know what’s going on. I don’t deserve to know. We’re not a thing. He can talk to whoever he wants to. It’s none of my business.”

  “Obviously you don’t approach him like that. You approach him as a friend because that’s what you are, right?”

  I chewed the inside of my lip.

  Piper laughed softly on the other end. “You care about him, Janie. You can’t just turn that off. And I know it hurts that those feelings might not be reciprocated the way you want them to be but neither of us can deny how good of a guy Max is. Maybe he needs someone in his corner right now. And speaking from experience, you’re a really good person to have in said corner. He might need someone to have his back more than you realize.”

  “What happened to the days where I used to give you advice and you used to squirm over what you had to do?”

  Piper laughed in earnest this time. “Life is a lot simpler for me than it ever used to be. And it will be for you too one day. But today your friend needs you. Go talk to him. Just try not to have any expectations of him, okay? Whatever is going on, he might not be able to meet them.”

  I felt clarity settle into my bones and I nodded decisively, even though Piper couldn’t see me. “You’re right, Pipes. I’m going to go talk to him right now.”

  Chapter 10

  Max

  “Don’t you want the best for our baby?” Sienna’s voice snapped through the line like a dog bite. Ferocious, sharp, and unyielding. “It’s not my fault that cribs and strollers cost so much money. And what are you squirming about? All you have is money, Max, and nothing to spend it on. You said as much yourself when we were together.”

  “I’m not squirming,” I grated.

  “It sure sounds like you are to me. Now are you going to be a man and get what we need for our baby, or am I going to have to do everything for myself?”

  I had no idea what she was going on about.

  She’d called roughly an hour and a half ago from some designer baby store where they sold cribs and furniture for nurseries, and once she’d done some looking around, she sent me a bunch of pictures of all the items she wanted to buy. For a crib, dresser, changing table, rocking chair, side table, lamp, baby mobile, and wall decal, the price was twenty-two thousand dollars. In the grand scheme it wasn’t a lot of money, not when one took into account how much money sat at the bank under my name, but still.

  Twenty-two thousand dollars on baby furniture? That was obscene.

  It was a baby. How would it know or care what furniture was in the room?

  I couldn’t help but feel like Sienna was doing what she did best: trying to take advantage.

  “I never said I wasn’t going to get what we needed,” I said, trying my best to maintain a level, controlled tone. “I just don’t understand why you have to buy everything from this place.”

  “Because I want it,” Sienna seethed.

  “And that’s a good enough reason for you?”

  “Of course it is,” she snapped. “Look, I wasn’t going to tell you any of this because I knew you’d be an ass about the whole thing and make me feel even more alone than I’d feel if I did this by myself. But I did tell you because I thought you deserved to know. Don’t make me have second thoughts, Max.”

  I rubbed my forehead and closed my eyes. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay,” I managed through clenched teeth. “Put me on with the cashier. I’ll pay with my credit card over the phone.”

  Sienna’s voice turned honey-sweet. “Thank you, baby. I knew you’d come around. I’ll give them your address for the delivery, yes?”

  What?

  She heard my hesitation. Her voice darkened once more. “What, did you expect me to put all this stuff in my apartment, Max? I have a one-bedroom, good-for-nothing shithole. The best thing going for it is a swimming pool and that’s just a drowning hazard. You and I are going to have to talk about what’s a realistic and suitable place for this baby, and me, to live.”

  Fuck me.

  “So your address is fine?” she pressed.

  “Yes. Whatever.”

  “Wonderful.”

  I sat there and listened while she supplied the cashier with my address and phone number. Next, Sienna turned me over to the woman working the sale, who I gave my credit card information to. She thanked me, congratulated me on becoming a father, and told me our baby was very lucky to have the best of the best.

  “I find it hard to believe a baby gives a damn about designer furniture,” I muttered to the cashier.

  “It’s not about the label,” the saleswoman said. “It’s about doing what you feel is best for your baby. And I think you’ve made the right choice here. Thank you for your business, Mr. Fisher. I’ll pass you back to your girlfriend now.”

  “She’s not my—”

  Too late. Sienna was back on the line. “Thank you, baby. I knew you’d come around and see things my way. Just imagine how beautiful our nursery is going to be. I can’t wait to see it all set up and put together. Maybe… maybe we could work on it together like old times? I could make your favorite broccoli and chicken casserole.”

  I sigh
ed. It wasn’t my favorite. Never had been. But it was about the only thing Sienna could cook. “Sienna, I can’t—”

  I broke off when someone knocked on my office door. Glancing up, I saw Janie standing on the other side of the glass. She waved and held up two fingers, implying she only needed a couple of minutes of my time.

  Thank God.

  “Sienna, I’m sorry. Something important just came up at the office and I have to handle it. How are you getting home? Do you need me to send a car?”

  “That would be lovely,” Sienna purred.

  “I’ll send Jonathan right now.”

  “Thank you, baby.”

  I hung up the phone and motioned for Janie to come in. She did, and she sat down across from me in the opposite armchair while I called Jonathan and sent him to pick up Sienna. I didn’t say her name or where she was at. Instead, I told him I had a friend in need of a ride and that I would text him the address.

  Once I’d sent it to him, I gave Janie all of my attention. “Is everything all right?”

  Janie nodded, paused, and shook her head. “No, I don’t think it is.”

  I sat up a little straighter. “What’s wrong?”

  “You. Us.”

  I blinked. “Sorry?”

  Why were the women in my life playing me like a fiddle? I couldn’t keep up. One minute, things were going smoothly, and the next, they were being upended.

  I needed a drink. Or six.

  “You gave me the impression that maybe you wanted something to start up between us again when you took me out for lunch two weeks ago,” Janie said, her eyes searching mine. I don’t know what she was looking for, but by the way she frowned, I suspected she didn’t find it. “But since that day, we’ve hardly spent any time together. I’m in an entirely new city, and a new state for that matter, and you’re the only person I know here, Max. You haven’t once offered to show me around or take me to dinner to give me some company. I’ve spent every night here by myself since I arrived.”

  Damn it. She was right. I’d been a shitty friend. Guilt crawled around in my stomach.