The other man looks like he doesn’t belong. The polite term for him would be “portly”. He’s a bit red in the face, and the gold chain around his neck looks so heavy I’m amazed he can stand. He turns away and shakes his head, clearly not impressed by the farcical scene before him.
I can’t believe how much I’ve let Owen down. How could I be so clumsy? He must seriously regret bringing me here.
I grab a glass from a shelf over the sink, and a tea towel from the counter, and head to the ice dispenser in the fridge door. Momentarily daunted by a control panel more fit for launching a rocket than summoning lumps of frozen water, I hold the towel under a large button with a snowflake on it and hope for the best. Thankfully, chunks of ice fall out.
Not wanting to push my luck, I fill the glass from the tap.
“Here you go.” I set the water beside Maggie and gently press the makeshift ice pack to her temple. She suppresses a wince as she takes it from me. “Thank you.”
As she sips, color starts to return to her cheeks, and she manages a smile. “This is why I never wear high heels.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure this was nothing to do with your footwear and everything to do with me being unable to figure out the simple task of opening a door.”
“Not your fault at all. It’s been a problem since it was installed. They’re supposed to come back to fix it.”
Our heads turn simultaneously as a tall, dark-haired, serious-looking guy in a suit strides into the kitchen. He furrows his brow at the three faces on the other side of the windows.
“Fuck’s sake. Walk around,” he booms at them as he jerks his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the front door. Then, with a shake of his head, he mutters, “Bunch of idiots.”
Let me guess—Max?
He marches over to us and squats at Maggie’s side with his hand on the back of her chair.
“I heard a commotion from upstairs. Are you okay, Mom?”He shoots a glance toward Owen and the other two men as they walk off. “Doesn’t look like they’re much help.”
Elsa trots over, tongue lolling. I grip her collar and hold her tight to my side, certain that getting hairs or drool on this guy’s suit would not do me any favors.
“I’m fine,” Maggie says.
She pats the hair on the opposite side of her head from where she’s holding the ice pack and smiles. “Just took a little tumble and got a bit rearranged. Anyway, meet Owen’s new friend Summer who saved him from the blizzard.”She turns to me. “Summer, meet Max. My eldest and most in charge son.”
He gives me a quick, businesslike “Hi.”
He couldn’t seem less interested. Not like he’s looking down on me, but like he couldn’t give a crap who I am or why I’m here.
He turns back to his mother. “Dad’ll be down in a minute. He’s having a bit of trouble tying his bowtie.”
Maggie drops the ice-filled tea towel on the table and starts to get out of her chair. “I’ll go help him.”
Max places a firm hand on her shoulder and eases her back down. “Nope. I’ll take care of it. You rest here.”
She looks in him the eyes and sighs. “You know he’d rather I do it.”
“Well, he’s going to have to put up with help from me for once.” He looks at me and points at the bits of Maggie’s updo that are no longer up. “Could you help fix that?”
So he’s interested in me now he thinks he has a use for me. If only it was something a little more in my skill set.
I laugh and point at the pile of wayward curls growing out of my own head. “Hairdressing isn’t exactly my area.”
He doesn’t crack even the barest of smiles. “The stylist left for the day. And it’s probably more your thing than mine. Or Owen or Elliot’s.”
Apparently, he’s not much of a one for jokes. Or smiles. Or possibly joy of any kind.
He kisses his mother on the forehead and heads out, presumably to take charge of his father’s tie.
Well, I guess it’s the only chance I have to redeem myself, with Maggie at least.
I’ve let Owen down so badly. He must be mortified. He shows up with a woman he met three days ago, a woman from a completely different world than the ones these guys all inhabit, and look how I’ve repaid him. My instinct tells me to run away, back to the safety of my solitary life, and save him the trouble of asking me to leave.
