Always, in December(49)
Liam swirled his wine in his glass and gave Max an all-too-innocent look. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
Max raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”
Liam laid a hand across his heart dramatically. “Don’t you worry, you know she’s not really my type.” And it was true—Liam’s type tended toward the Erins of the world, long-limbed and sophisticated. Still, he was pretty sure that if Chloe had decided she was interested, then the man didn’t stand a chance.
Max let it drop for the time being, and sat back against the grey chair that was sort of an armchair without arms. It matched the rest of the apartment, which was mainly white and grey and clearly designed to make the place look bigger than it was. He let his eyes trail around the place: the wooden floors, the corner sofa, the fucking massive windows all around the living room. It was a bit uniform for him, but he could see why his parents liked it here. Though he hadn’t been able to quite believe it when they’d told him they were moving to the Upper East Side, of all places—one of the places known across the world for being home to the posh people of New York. He’d known their childhood home had gone for more than they’d thought it would when they’d sold up a few years ago, but still. Not that he knew exactly how much this place cost—but given his profession, he could guess. A three-bedroom apartment in this kind of high-rise fancy building was not cheap. Plus, you got the views across the city here, though currently all you could see were the lights of the other buildings and streets below. The place even had a fancy-arse doorman who greeted Max by name every time he saw him. It made him wonder whether his mother was really doing the hospital consultancy work “to keep busy” as she claimed, or if they actually needed the money.
When his mum and Chloe reappeared holding homemade apple pie and the dessert plates respectively, Max noted how Liam suddenly became ever-so-interested in the discussion Erin and his dad were having about the latest Broadway shows. Max let out a soft snort, and Erin briefly flicked a glance at him, eyes questioning. He only shook his head.
After the apple pie was mostly eaten—Erin eating half of her piece in a clear effort not to offend—Liam announced that he had to go, because they needed to be in the office early tomorrow ahead of a big pitch. Managing to get around Max’s mum’s protests, Liam said his goodbyes, kissing his mum and Erin on the cheek, shaking his dad’s hand, and giving Max a friendly pat on the shoulder. He turned to Chloe last, who was leaning back against her chair, having only gotten to her feet with clear reluctance because everyone else had. She looked up at him with measured eyes, and he ran a hand across the back of his neck. Honestly, Max felt sorry for the guy—the whole family and Erin were watching the two of them with interest, no sign of embarrassment for doing so.
“Well, it was nice to see you again, Chloe,” Liam said, all airs and graces. Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw his mum give a little nod of approval—politeness went far in her book.
Chloe gave a smile that could in no way be considered sweet. “You too.” And it was Chloe who straightened and stretched up, giving Liam’s cheek a swift kiss, resting one of her hands on his forearm as if to stabilize herself. She pulled back, cocked her head. “Maybe I’ll see you again while I’m here.”
Liam cleared his throat. “Right. Yeah, maybe.” He gave Max a slightly wide-eyed look at that, and Max only nodded and shrugged, as if to say I told you so.
The moment Liam was out the door, Erin took the opportunity before everyone could sit down again. “I’m so sorry, but I think I’m going to have to call it a night, otherwise I’ll be rotten company tomorrow.” She smiled at everyone, and Max’s dad and mum both shook their heads as if even the thought of Erin being rotten company was unthinkable. Chloe just sat down and dug into a second piece of apple pie. “Besides,” Erin continued, “I don’t want to oversleep and miss out on anything—I want to make the most of the weekend as it’s my first time in New York.”
Another headshake from his mother, her tight little curls twirling with the movement. “That’s a crying shame.” She shot Max a little frown and Max resisted the urge to sigh.
Erin gave Max’s shoulder a little squeeze before she left the table. Her touch lingered after she moved on, making it clear to him that he was going to have to make some sort of decision sooner or later, and from the expressions on their faces, the action was one that did not go unnoticed by the rest of the family.
When his mum started to clear the table—party officially over now the guests of honor had left—Max and Chloe jumped in to help, unable to ignore years of ingrained habit. His mum grinned at his dad. “Trained them well, didn’t we?”
His dad stretched back in his seat. “I take all the credit,” he said lazily.
His mum’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?” When his dad only grinned, his mum elbowed him on the shoulder as she walked by, in a way that made Max smile a little. It was nice that some things, at least, remained constant.
It was after he’d set the pile of dessert plates down on the kitchen counter that his mum fixed him with a very direct look. “Are you really going back to the UK, Max?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chloe leaving the kitchen in a move that he had no doubt was deliberate. Bloody deserter. Max didn’t answer. He’d long since learned that the best thing to do with questions that his mother knew the answer to was to stay silent. “But what will you do there?” she pressed. He started loading the dishwasher just so he didn’t have to look at her.