It's a Fugly Life (Fugly #2)(33)
Oh crap. Mr. Perfect strikes again. He’d had this all planned out. Surprising me, making a huge to-do about the company’s launch, he and I starting our life together.
He went on, “I have the head of purchasing from the world’s most exclusive retail chain and her entire team coming to see the pilot store.”
“But I can’t—”
“Yes. You can, Lily,” he said without doubt or room for negotiation. “I’ve got the presentation all set. You simply need to smile, shake hands, and talk about our marketing strategy. It’s all stuff you’ve done before.” Yes. My background was in sales and, of course, I’d worked for Cole Cosmetics for a brief period as a senior sales manager, so the question wasn’t if I could sell or engage with customers. It was that up until a day ago, I hadn’t known this company existed.
“Don’t you have a head of sales or someone to step in?” I asked.
“You. You were supposed to be head of sales. And no, there is no one else, Lily. We have a skeleton crew in place to support the initial phase, but that’s it.”
“So…when you say that’s it, how many people are we talkin’?”
“Ten.”
“Ten?” My jaw dropped.
“Lily, we’re in proof-of-concept mode right now. And frankly, I held back doing any major hiring until you were on board.”
Ohmygod. He was just so damned…so damned…perfect. Dammit! Why does he have to be so domineering and aggressive and thoughtful? It just killed me to say no to him.
“Lily, I need you to step in for just a few days. I’m sure you can handle it, and considering it took a month to pull this meeting together, I can’t risk postponing. This isn’t Cole Cosmetics. We’re the new kids.”
Meaning, when he snapped his fingers, the entire industry didn’t jump. Not yet.
He continued, “Everything is in the presentation. Keri will help you with any questions, as will the team.”
I sighed. “Max, I really ca—”
“Thank you.”
“Max!” I dropped my shoulders. “I have a store to run in California. I can’t ditch it.”
“Who’s running it now?”
“My mother, and she’s absolutely terrified of being in charge.”
Max slipped his phone from his pocket, dialed a number, and held it to his ear. “Hello? Gladys?”
He’s calling my mother?
He smiled and made a little chuckle. “Nice to hear your voice, too.”
Whoa. Since when were these two all chummy?
He went on, “Great. I’m great. Even better now that I’m looking at your beautiful daughter.”
I narrowed my eyes, but at the same time couldn’t help letting a tiny smile sneak past my lips. Max was always so full of surprises and such a shameless charmer.
He listened for a moment. “I know what you mean. She really does look lovelier than ever.”
“Hey! That’s enough,” I protested. “Tell my mom to stop talking about me.”
Max gave me his back and strolled over to the window. Yes, I took notice of his broad shoulders and the taper of his muscles that gave his body that perfectly masculine Y-shape.
“Yes, I heard that,” he said to my mom. “And I’m very pleased you enjoyed your day at Lily’s store.” He glanced over his shoulder and flashed a smirk my way. “Especially because I have a very big favor to ask.” He listened.
Oh no… Mom, don’t you dare!
“Thank you, Gladys,” he said, “because a family emergency has come up, and I need Lily here in Chicago for a few days.” A long pause. “Well, I will let her tell you all about it, but I just wanted to be absolutely certain that you’re all right with holding down the Lily Pad while I’m away.” Pause. “Great. You are truly the best mother anyone could ever ask for.” Pause. “I miss you, too.”
“What the fu…?” my voice faded as Max ended the call, slipped his cell into his jeans, and cocked his brows. “What the hell was that, Max?” I scowled.
He shrugged. “What?”
“‘I miss you’?” I repeated his words like an accusation.
Max looked down at his feet and gave his scruffy chin a scratch, making those little bristly sounds. I loved that sound. It was uniquely masculine and sorta turned me on.
“Your mother and I—well, and your father, too—have remained in touch these past six months.”
I blinked while his words sank in. Once they did, I was not happy. “You mean to tell me that my parents have been helping you keep tabs on me?”
Max gave me a hard look. “You truly believe they would do that?”
I crossed my arms. “You tell me.” They’d kept their relationship with him a secret, after all.
“We only spoke a few times. I think they were checking on me—you know your mother is an excessive worrier.”
“Hey! Don’t bad-mouth my mother.” It was true, however. My mother’s and father’s constant worrying had once prompted me to blaze my trail a little further from home. It wasn’t that I didn’t love them, but space was good.
Now, after everything that happened, I didn’t mind their worrying so much, and I sometimes wondered if Max’s mother had something to do with that. I’d only met Mommy Dearest the one time, but it was enough to help me understand why Max was who he was and be grateful for my own mom. To Max’s credit, he wasn’t nearly as messed up as he should be. His mother was as cruel as she was bonkers. She’d even had us stalked by a photographer, who took pictures of Max and I having sex at night in front of his beach house in Hawaii. Long story short, she thought if the world knew he’d been dating a very, very ugly woman, it would deflate the rumors that he had a disorder and save his company. Her company. Maybe it would’ve worked, but her actions had only helped me believe he’d been using me.