Taming Mad Max (4 page)

“No. But even if you did, you would still look beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes. Just last week she’d seen him on the cover of a celebrity magazine. He’d been strolling along the beach with a famous lingerie model, and yet he wanted her to believe he was suddenly smitten with her.
Give me a break.
Not that she didn’t keep herself in shape, because she did; she worked out regularly, ate healthy foods, and took good care of herself. But she didn’t dress to impress. Nor did she spend a lot of time on hair or makeup. “It’s not going to work, Max.”

“What?”

“Your games. Throwing compliments at me and gazing into my eyes as if you were suddenly struck by one of cupid’s arrows.”

“Anything’s possible.”

“Not us,” she said, wriggling a finger between the two of them. “Anything is possible except the two of us.”

He feigned a wounded look and put a hand to his chest as if he’d been stabbed in the heart. “You cut me to the quick.”

“I know how men like you work. You’re a player, Max. You have a different woman waiting for you in every city. You like to charm the ladies. You couldn’t stop charming them if you tried, so lets just stay real and get down to business.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Fine. But I think you should know you’re the first woman I have shared a meal with, or anything else for that matter,” he added when he noted her skepticism, “in many months.”

“Interesting.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe.”

“Vincent,” he said as the man brought them bread and poured them each a glass of wine. “How many times have I come here to eat in the past few months?”

Vincent rubbed his dark stubbled chin. “I would have to say once or twice a week...so that would be say...sixteen times in the last two months. You owe me much money, my friend.”

“We’ll discuss that later. Now tell Kari how many of those times I brought a woman with me.”

“A big fat zero,” Vincent answered without the slightest pause. “I tell Max he’s losing his animal magnetism, but then he brings an enchanting lady such as yourself and I now feel better. Now both of you,” Vincent said as he headed back to the kitchen, arms flailing, “drink the wine and eat the bread before it goes bad.”

“Now you believe me?” Max asked. His blue eyes flickered.

“Sure. I believe you.”

He held up his glass and clinked it against hers before they both sipped their wine.

Kari held back a moan of pleasure as the smooth taste of Chianti slid down her throat. “Delicious.”

“Wait until you try the Risotta.” He broke off a piece of bread, then reached over and slid it into her mouth before she could protest. “So now that you know I’m not a ‘player,’ you’ll have dinner with me tonight?”

She chewed, swallowed. “No.”

“Why not?”

She took another sip of wine and tried not to pay too much attention to the way he looked at her...with a fiery intensity in his eyes that made her toes curl. “Because I don’t date my clients...ever.”

“Why not?”

“It’s unprofessional.”

“Now you’re just being old fashioned and stubborn.”

She shrugged. “Sticks and stones will break my bones...”

“A little childish don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,” she said with a smile, “but somehow it fits.”

He took a sip of his wine. “You, Ms. Kari, are one mean lady.”

“It’s your fault,” she teased, enjoying herself as she tried to recall the last time she’d flirted with a man. “You bring out the worst in me.”

“Well, if this is the worst of you,” he said, leaning forward and sliding his hand over hers. “I can’t wait to see the best.”

#

It was past six by the time Kari reached N. Buena Vista and parked her car outside the quaint three-bedroom home with the hand-carved wood sign that read “Lindsay’s Daycare.” Her long-time best friend, Lindsay Baker, had inherited the house years ago, around the same time Kari had discovered she was pregnant with Max Dutton’s baby. After Kari’s parents found out she was pregnant and kicked her out of their house, Lindsay invited Kari to move to Burbank with her and start a daycare.

Lindsay had a way with kids. And with Kari’s help, the business thrived. Kari’s daughter was two when Lindsay suggested they hire help so Kari could follow her dreams and attend college. After six years of studying, running after kids, and changing diapers, Kari received a Master of Science in Nutrition and Physical Fitness from the University of California, Los Angeles.

Kari climbed out of her car and admired the yellow house with its newly painted white trim and overflowing flower boxes. She would miss living here, but it was time for her and Molly to find a house of their own. Richard Bauer, a real estate broker, was going to show her a few houses this weekend.

The front door opened and Molly stuck her head out. “Mom, you’re late. You and Lindsay have to drop me off in thirty minutes.”

Molly’s bright blue eyes made her think of Max. “Why? Where are you going?”

Molly hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. “You didn’t forget again, did you?”

Kari stopped to take a whiff of the sweet scent of a hybrid tea rose lining the walkway. When she straightened, Molly was still waiting for an answer. “Afraid so.”

“Geez, Mom. Pretty soon you’re not going to remember my name.”

“Don’t worry,” Kari said as she gave her daughter a hug. “I’ll never forget your name, I promise.”

Molly didn’t look convinced, but she let it go. “You’re supposed to drop me off at Heather’s because you and Lindsay are going to Carol Stevens’ bachelorette party.”

Damn. She had forgotten. And she was emotionally and physically exhausted. But she and Lindsay had promised Carol they would go. Only four women were going. She couldn’t back out at the last moment.

“So, what was he like?” Molly asked next, interrupting Kari’s moment of self-absorbed misery.

Kari cocked her head. “Who?”

“Mad Max.”

A knot lodged in Kari’s throat. Stay calm. Nobody knew Max Dutton was Molly’s father. Not even Lindsay.

A high-pitched screech pierced Kari’s ears. “Are the twins still here?”

Molly nodded and said in a low voice, “Aunt Lindsay says their parents are going through tough times. They might get divorced.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah, it is. Now tell me about Mad Max.”

Kari slid off her shoes and dropped her purse on the coffee table. “Uhm...he was...”

“Rich, and he lives in a big house?” Molly asked.

“Yes.” She smiled as she remembered Max telling her he was a rich, good-looking celebrity. “He’s an interesting man.”

Molly rolled her eyes and shut the door behind them.

Kari pushed the bangs out of her daughter’s face. “How did you know his nickname?”

“Who doesn’t know that? Meeting Mad Max would be like meeting Kobe Bryant or Brad Pitt. Mad Max won the Heisman Trophy in college, and according to Grant, he’s one of the best defensive corners in NFL history. All of my friends want to know what he’s like in person. Mrs. Chamberlain from the school office even called to ask if you could get her his autograph.”

“Mrs. Chamberlain called here?” Kari shook her head in exasperation. “Who told you I was meeting with Mad Max—I mean Mr. Dutton—and how would your friends know about it?”

“Aunt Lindsay had Emma watch the kids for an hour so she could pick me up at school today, remember? Maybe you should take some more of those fish oil vitamins you keep telling everyone to take for their brains.”

“Don’t get sassy,” Kari said. “It’s all coming back to me now.”

The twins squealed as they sprinted through the room, weaving between the scarred oak coffee table and Molly’s legs. More high-pitched noises followed when Molly pretended she was going after them.

“I swear,” Kari said above the noise, “your Aunt Lindsay has the biggest mouth in the Valley.”

“Hey,” Lindsay said as she entered the family room from the kitchen, her curly red hair bouncing. “I heard that. Molly wanted to know where you were so I told her you were with a client. Then your nosy daughter asked who the client was, and I told her it was Max Dutton. I had to wait in the car for ten minutes while she ran around telling everyone.”

A frown creased Molly’s brow. “What’s the big deal, Mom?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Kari said, although she knew she’d blown it by triggering her daughter’s already above-normal suspicious nature.

Molly narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t like him, did you?”

“I liked him fine. I’m working with him, aren’t I?”

“Your eye is twitching,” Molly said, pointing at her face.

“My eye is not twitching.”

“Yeah, it is,” Lindsay said. “There, your eyelid just did it again.”

Kari sighed. All of her life her twitching eye had been a dead giveaway for those who knew her best, but twitching eye or not, she needed to steer the conversation in another direction. “You two need to get a life. My eye is twitching because I’m not a big fan of football. It’s a violent sport.”

“It is sort of lame,” Lindsay agreed. “Grown men trying to prove their manliness by knocking each other over and trash talking.”

“Well, I think I’m going to like it,” Molly said.

“What do you mean, ‘you’re going to like it?’”

“Remember when you told me to think long and hard about what I wanted for my birthday?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ve thought about it and I was wondering if you could get me tickets.”

“Tickets to what?”

“Four tickets to a Condors’ game.”

“You want to go to a football game for your thirteenth birthday?” Kari plunked a hand on her hip. “I sent out invites for your bowling party last week and I already have your gift. What’s going on here?”

“Grant Parker,” Lindsay answered for Molly.

“Grant who?”

Molly’s cheeks blossomed with color. “Grant Parker.”

“He’s a boy,” Lindsay chimed in.

“I sort of figured that part out,” Kari said. “And?”

“And she’s had a crush on him since sixth grade,” Lindsay offered.

Kari hated when Lindsay knew more about her daughter than she did.

“He finally talked to me,” Molly added. “Once Grant found out you were working with Mad Max, he came right up to me and talked to me. Can you imagine what will happen if you can get tickets and maybe some sort of pass into the locker room?”

Her daughter’s eyes grew twice their size as she added, “Oh, my God. If you can do this, Mom, I’ll never ask for another thing in my life.”

“Oh puhleeze,” Kari said. “How many times have I heard that one before?”

“I’m serious this time. I’ll never ask for another thing. Never.”

Kari sighed. “You’re too young to be hanging out with boys.”

“That’s why we need four tickets. You and Lindsay will be there to chaperone.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, figuring one little football game wouldn’t hurt as long as Max and Molly didn’t meet. “I’m not canceling the bowling party though. And I’m not making any promises about getting tickets. And no way are you going into the locker room.”

“Just get Grant into the locker room. I can wait outside.”

“I’ll escort Grant,” Lindsay told Kari as if that settled things. “You can wait outside with Molly.”

“Oh, gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ll talk to Max, but don’t get your hopes up.”

“That’s all we’re asking,” Lindsay said.

Kari turned to Lindsay. “Whose birthday is this...Molly’s or yours?”

Lindsay raised her hands. “Excuse me for trying to help.”

The twins ran back into the room.

An evil grin crooked Molly’s mouth. “It’s tickle time,” she told the twins. Then she cracked her twelve-year-old knuckles for good measure, making the four-year-old boys squeal with delight before they took off in the other direction.

Molly ran after them.

“You can’t take Molly away from me,” Lindsay complained the moment Molly disappeared around the corner.

“Don’t start. You know I feel guilty enough as it is.”

“Who will I whine to every night if you move? It’ll be so quiet without you two here.”

Kari sat on the edge of the worn leather couch, pulled off her shoe and rubbed her heal. “Well maybe it’s time you found someone to settle down with so you can raise your own kids along with everyone else’s.”

“I’m already on it.”

Kari dropped her foot to the floor. “You met someone?”

“Yep. His name is Donor.”

“Really?”

Lindsay laughed. “Of course, not. Nobody would name their son, Donor. I went to a sperm bank.”

“A sperm bank?” Kari fell back into the couch. “I have a headache. Could you speak English?”

“Now that you and Molly have decided to abandon ship, I’ve decided it’s time I have a baby of my own.”

“Ridiculous,” Kari said. “You can’t just suddenly decide to walk into a sperm bank and have a baby. That’s crazy talk.”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. And don’t tell me I have to wait until Mr. Right comes along, because it’s never going to happen.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. Men are...you know...men. They think they know everything and they’re bossy. Even if I met someone it would never work.”

“Not all men are like your father,” Kari reminded her.

“They might as well be. Frogs and snails and puppy dog tails,” Lindsay said with an exaggerated shiver.

“That’s what little boys are made of, not men.”

“Most men
are
little boys. They never grow up. I’m not going to waste any more precious time waiting for Mr. Right...precious time that could be well spent with my beautiful baby.”

A knock sounded at the door just as the twins ran back into the living room to announce in identical voices that the toilet was overflowing.

“I’ll get the toilet,” Kari told Lindsay, “you get the door.”

A few minutes later Lindsay joined Kari in the bathroom. “It’s a done deal,” Lindsay said as she watched Kari plunge. “Brenda’s rat-bastard husband has run off with another woman. Wait until Patti Bertram hears about this.”

It took a moment for Kari to remember that Patti Bertram was a popular advice columnist. “Have you been writing letters to the LA Times again?”

“Of course. I never stopped writing letters to them. It’s therapeutic. I always change the names to protect the innocent, but somebody needs to let women out there know the truth about men...snakes all of them...slithering, coiling tongue-flickers.”

Kari laughed. “Tongue-flickers?”

“Yes. I mean come on, the twins’ mother Brenda works full-time, she picks up the kids, she makes dinner every night, she takes care of herself. She looks better than most twenty-year olds. I don’t get it.”

“She’s also smart,” Kari said, focusing on the job at hand. “She’ll know what to do.”

“I hope she takes that two-timer for all he’s got.”

“She has the boys,” Kari said right before she flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash her hands. “They may be a handful, but we both know how fast they grow. If you ask me, she’s won already.”

Lindsay thought about it for a moment. “You’re right. Those boys are her gold at the end of the rainbow. At least until they turn into men. After that, I just don’t know.”

Kari shook her head at Lindsay’s stubbornness when it came to men and what Lindsay usually referred to as their thieving conniving, lying, cheating ways. But Kari knew better than anyone, maybe even better than Lindsay, that a lot of her talk was just that...talk. Although Lindsay would never admit it, she liked men. She just hadn’t found the right guy. Lindsay needed a man who would stand up to her without trying to beat her down, a man who could match her wit for wit, a man who had a few tricks up his sleeve.

“So tell me about Mad Max,” Lindsay said in a low voice so Molly wouldn’t overhear. “Why don’t you like him?”

Kari groaned. “Not you, too. I like him just fine.”

“Wasn’t Max the boy you had a crush on when you first moved into the neighborhood, you know, when he was a paperboy and you were only ten?”

“I don’t remember,” she lied. “I don’t think so. The only boy I had a crush on was...er...Frank. Yeah, Frank Hunsaker, who lived a few doors down.”

Lindsay scratched her head. “Frank Hunsaker...really? The guy in our chemistry class? The one with the thick-rimmed glasses and wiry hair?”

“That’s the one.” She shrugged. “Go figure.”

“Well you can do better than Frank Hunsaker. If you’re really lucky, maybe you’ll meet the man of your dreams tonight at Carol’s bachelorette party.”