Breaking the Billionaire's Rules(60)

“A little different from what you’re used to,” I say.

He pulls me to him by my scarf. “I love seeing your life.” He kisses me, and my nerves ratchet down. We’re together. We can handle this together.

A couple of women come up and ask Max to do a selfie. He’s fun about it—he makes the selfies good, and my chest just swells to watch it. I’ve never felt so right with a man.

“For the love of god, don’t put the location,” I say to them while Max is paying for the beers.

“Oh my god, we won’t,” the one says. “The place would be mobbed.”

An angry, booming voice. “You.” I spin around and Antonio’s giving Max his best Scarface meets Blue Steel. “Nobody puts their hands on my flower,” he growls.

“Except maybe Kelsey?” I say to him, grinning. “Can Kelsey put a hand on your…flower?”

Antonio gives me outrage. Then, “It is in no way like a flower.” He turns to Max. “And you!”

“Dude. The jig is up.” I loop my arm in Max’s arm. “Max, this is my cousin Antonio. He’s awesome and studying to be an actor. Antonio, Max is with me. And you’re not a murderous gigolo anymore.”

Antonio frowns. He liked being a murderous gigolo.

I make them shake hands.

“You had that poor boy shaken,” Max informs Antonio. He tells us what Rollins said about him. Antonio is excited that Rollins was so convinced. Something unwinds in my belly, seeing them get along. It’s Kelsey and Jada I’m worried about, but this is a nice first step.

“Have you ever thought about modeling?” Max asks Antonio. “I mean, if the acting doesn’t work out.”

Antonio likes that. He’s been thinking about it, though his experience is all in Milano, he says to Max. “And for the record,” Antonio says, “I was kissing my thumb.”

“He was kissing his thumb, it’s true,” I tell Max. “So was I.”

Meanwhile, my gang has spotted us. We make our way over to the big corner booth. Lizzie and Jada and Kelsey are there. Antonio slides in next to Kelsey. “He knows.”

I introduce him around. Kelsey smiles as she says hello. Jada is gracious when he congratulates her on the show, but it’s not okay. The fun has stopped and people are stiff now. I feel like it might never be okay. Is politeness between Max and my friends the best I can ever hope for?

There’s more small talk, which is bad enough, but then he takes a book from his pocket and sets it on the table.

The Hilton Playbook.

And that really stops the conversation in its tracks.

“Oh, look,” Kelsey says.

What was he thinking? Despair spreads through my gut like acid. He wrote the book. He can’t unwrite it.

Jada folds her arms. “You carry it around?”

“I’ve been re-reading it. I want to know your experience with it,” he says. “You don’t have to tell me, but I want to know.”

“How I ended up with a jungle-kissing reverse-chaser?” Jada asks. “How Kelsey lived with one?”

My mouth goes dry.

“I don’t know if I feel like spooling it all out.” Kelsey drains her beer. I say a little prayer that he doesn’t offer to buy a new one for her. Kelsey wouldn’t take well to that.

Except Max really is interested, and I think that Kelsey senses it, because she launches into her story. What it felt like to have Nathan take the center stage, and be all scintillating, but ignoring her. “He seemed so funny and unique, but it was all your lines!”

He nods. Some protective instinct seems to be telling him not to use the interview coaching analogy. “I didn’t…think it through from that angle.”

“It’s not an angle,” Jada says. “It’s a freaking ruse. I specifically gave a guy the benefit of the doubt because of that cute dog story and it wasn’t real. I felt deceived, and I feel like your book encourages that.” She turns to the page where it says to memorize the jungle-kiss script.

He takes it, looks at the words he wrote. They don’t want excuses, and he’s not giving them.

“It was a bit much to suggest they memorize it,” he says simply. “They should have their own unique thing.”

“Yeah, that’s a start.” Jada tells him her friend Gracie’s story.

“I didn’t mean for it to be used that way,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for saying that,” Kelsey says. “I do appreciate it.” The way she says it, though, there is a but in there. She appreciates it, but…

Sweat prickles along my spine.

“I mean it,” Max says. “And I think sorry isn’t enough. I’m thinking about doing a new edition. I talked to my publisher and they’ll go for it if I write it. I can encourage guys to be confident and interesting without being fake.”

“You’re thinking about doing a new edition?” Jada sounds intrigued.

Kelsey’s not so sure. She turns to her most hated section. More beers come.

He’s genuinely sorry—they can all see that. But I want more. I want my friends to see the vulnerable, passionate, brilliant guy I see. I want them to see the Max who knows every word to every song of Hair and secretly loves teaching piano lessons. I want them to see the creative, thoughtful man, not the Max Hilton of Ferraris and zillion-dollar watches and devil-may-care liquor carts.