The Billionaire's Allure (The Silver Cross Club Book 5) by Bec Linder Page B

everything and cater to his whims. “I’m not going to San Francisco,” I said. I kept my voice very calm and measured. Yelling indicated strong emotion. Passion and fury. I wanted Max to know that nothing he did affected me. I knew how he thought this would play out: I would yell and bluster, and he would wait me out, then tempt me with nostalgia when I had expended my anger. He wanted me all wrung out in the aftermath of emotion: weary, overwrought, vulnerable to the tenderness he would use as a weapon.
    But he wasn’t writing the script. I wasn’t a character in his mental play. I would take control of the scene. I would craft a new ending.
    “Renzo might be in trouble,” Max said. How transparent: an appeal to my worst fears. “He needs us. I’ve been looking for him for a long time, Beth. I’ll go with or without you. But I want you to be there.”
    “I don’t think you should go at all,” I said, “but I won’t try to stop you. I’m not going with you, though.”
    “Why not?” he asked.
    I exhaled, already losing my cool. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? Why did he expect me to explain myself? I didn’t owe him anything. “Because I have a job,” I said. “Unlike you, I can’t just drop everything and fly across the country whenever I feel like it.”
    “I’m sure you can take time off,” Max said. “When was the last time you took a vacation? I’m going to guess it was before you started working here. Your boss seems like a reasonable woman. I’m sure she would be happy to let you take a few days.”
    “Okay, then it’s because I don’t want to,” I said. “I think it’s a stupid idea. Renzo doesn’t want to see us. You’re going to be disappointed and hurt, and I’m a sucker and I would feel like it was my responsibility to cheer you up. It isn’t my responsibility. I don’t want anything to do with this scheme of yours. I know I let you kiss me last night, but that was a mistake. We aren’t reconciling. I’m not letting you back into my life. You’re a part of my past, and you’re going to stay there.”
    He rocked back on his heels, smiling. Still smiling, damn him, like I was joking, or like he didn’t take me seriously at all. “Ferocious words, Beth,” he said. “Do you mean them? You think you do, but do you really? I’m not convinced. I think you want me to win you over, but you’re afraid to admit it to yourself.”
    My anger and frustration boiled over. “How dare you,” I said. “How dare you explain to me what I feel! You have no idea! You don’t know what it was like for me after you disappeared. We thought you were dead! We mourned for you!” My voice grew louder with each word until I was yelling, and it felt so good to finally let loose and say what I had really been thinking. “And now you’re back like everything is fine and I’m just the same old Beth, happy to see you, like I’m going to roll over and wag my tail like a stupid dog! I’m not! I hate you, Max, I hate you, I hate that you left me, and I hate that I still love you, and I hate that—I hate—”
    I broke off, sobbing. I hadn’t meant to say any of that. I was mad at myself for losing control, and mad at Max for witnessing it. I turned away from him, covering my face with my hands, gulping in huge breaths of air and trying desperately to calm down.
    I heard Max moving behind me, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet, and then his hands settled on my shoulders, not asking for anything, not pressuring me, just offering quiet comfort.
    I turned again, into his arms, and rested my face against his broad chest. His jacket was surprisingly soft beneath my cheek, worn with age and use. He lifted one hand and slowly, carefully stroked my hair.
    “Oh, Beth,” he sighed.
    I was a mess. My heart pulled me toward him, and my head turned me away. I wanted to forgive him, but the old hurt lingered and told me not to trust. I loved him and hated him at the same time. The conflict