The Bucket List Boyfriend (Boston Love #3)

Chapter 2

Maya

I SWIVEL in my chair, thinking about what possible strings Uncle Reggie could have attached to his will. He always was a little bit out there.

Honestly, my coworkers’ guesses have me a little bit worried. Let’s hope it’s not anything to do with dating or marriage, and not just because poor Max would break out in hives at the thought of an arranged marriage.

My French coworker, Alex, spent our entire lunch break today telling me about Kate’s crazy online dating adventures. Or mis adventures.

And to think I was about to sign up on some dating apps! Forget that plan. Being single is sounding pretty good right now.

My thoughts are interrupted by Alex slamming the phone down and spewing a tirade of French that I’m pretty sure included some cuss words.

“What’s up, Alex?” Viola asks.

“Up? Up? There is no up with Sienna Ashford. Only a down!”

Oh boy! Viola and Alex should have a competition to see who has to go to the most extreme lengths keeping their clients in line. Between Formula One sensation Noah King, and up-and-coming starlet, Sienna Ashford, those two have got their work cut out for them.

“You know your accent is even stronger than usual when you’re mad,” Kate chimes in with a grin.

It’s quite funny coming from Kate with her posh British accent.

Alex gives Kate a dirty look and throws his hands in the air.

Kate, Viola, and I all eye each other, but don’t say a word. We take a quick glance at the nearest clock and just wait.

In the short time I’ve been working here I’ve come to understand how Alex operates. Nobody loves a bit of gossip more than Alex, and right now, he’s just dying for one of us to ask for the details, because that’s exactly what he would do. In fact, we have a bet going for how long it will take him to spill the details. Because he will. There’s no way he’ll be able to keep any juicy story to himself. He’s like a geyser waiting to explode.

When no questions are forthcoming, he eyes us and our zipped lips suspiciously, but that only lasts thirty seconds before all the tea is spilled.

“She wants to get married!”

“Yes!” Kate punches the air. “Thirty seconds. You two owe me lunch tomorrow.”

Viola and I both chuckle.

I had bet that the next time he gets riled up by something, he would last a full minute before he spilled the details. Sweet Viola gave him the benefit of the doubt and said at least two minutes. Of course, Kate’s ‘thirty seconds’ guess was the most accurate.

Alex completely ignores the commentary and plows on with his story.

“Next month! Can you believe it?”

Woah.

“Next month? Is it a shotgun wedding?”

I can’t help but wonder because Sienna Ashford is only nineteen. For the past three years she’s starred in a massively popular mystery series that’s catapulted the teen star into the spotlight.

And she’s been causing Alex headaches ever since he took her on as a client. To say that the fame has gone to her head and turned her into a diva is an understatement.

“ Non ! She ’ad the strike of lightning!”

“Pardon?” Kate says, looking just as confused as me.

“The lightning. It ’as strike Sienna.” While Alex has always had a thick French accent, his grammar is normally pretty good. That’s gone out the window.

We’re all aghast.

“She was struck by lightning? Well, why didn’t you lead with that?” Kate is clutching her chest. She just needs pearls and she’d look just like her dramatic British mother she’s always talking about. I’d say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…although she’d be offended hearing that.

“Is she okay?” Viola asks, her brow furrowed.

“How is she even alive?” I thought a lightning strike would mean death. And why hasn’t this been in the news?

So much for us not asking any questions. They’re coming at Alex from all directions.

“No. Not the lightning.” He circles a finger in the air. “The lightning strike ’er.” He thumps his chest hard. “You know? Coup de foudre! ”

“Coo da foo dray?”

Alex scowls at me. “Your French is terrible, darling!”

“So was she or wasn’t she struck by lightning?” Viola asks.

“Not the bang bang lightning. You know…a strike from the other lightning?” Alex is getting so riled up he can’t think of enough English words.

He starts ranting again in French because he clearly thinks he’s talking to a bunch of morons.

Kate frowns and reaches for her laptop. It’s only when she reads the search results out loud that we get any clue as to what the heck Alex is talking about.

“ Coup de foudre literally translates as struck by lightning and is generally used to mean love at first sight.”

“Ahhhh,” Viola and I say in unison.

“That is what I said!” Alex huffs. “She thinks it is love. Love ? Can you believe it? She plans to marry ’im next month in a secret ceremony on a private beach, but she wants me to ‘leak’ the details to the press.”

Kate sighs. “That doesn’t really surprise me. You know what some of these celebrities are like. I have the dastardly duo doing that all the time.”

She’s right. It’s not just the married couple she represents who do it. Our clients love the spotlight and narcissism among celebrities is rife. The bigger the ego, the more frequently they leak stories to the press.

Of course, they pretend to hate the press intrusion and they blame friends and family for the leaks, but everybody in the industry knows how this game works. It’s an open secret.

It’s not just gossip or story leaks. They even tip off the paparazzi about their whereabouts to ensure they’re frequently in the news.

It’s a good thing egos are not a physical part of our body, because half of our clients wouldn’t be able to fit through the door of Pied Piper PR with their big heads.

Alex shakes his head. “It won’t last. Sienna’s still a teenager. She just started dating ’im three months ago. That was ’er assistant on the phone. They ’ave tried to talk some sense into ’er. Even ’er father told Sienna it was a bad idea, but she threw a big tantrum and threatened to cut ’er family off if they don’t do what she wants, so now everybody is planning the wedding.”

“At least you won’t be involved in any of that.” Viola always manages to look on the bright side.

“I’d rather walk off the edge of a cliff,” Alex grumbles quietly to himself, probably stewing about the fact that he’s going to have to deal with the fallout when this all falls apart.

“Cheer up, Alex,” Kate says. “I’m sure tomorrow Maya will have juicy news from her bestie about these strings attached to the will. That will put the pep back in your step.”

Alex immediately perks up at that thought but I’m worried it won’t last, so it’s time for a distraction.

“Speaking of walking off the edge of a cliff, did I tell you guys I’m going BASE jumping this weekend?”

“BASE jumping? Like where you just throw yourself off the side of a mountain and go plummeting to the ground until your parachute opens at the last second?” Viola looks horrified at the thought.

“Well, it doesn’t have to be a mountain. I’m actually jumping off an antenna tower.”

“Is it even legal?” Viola’s question is totally something Max would ask, rule-follower that he is.

“In certain places, yes. Don’t worry, the place I’m going to has an old antenna tower that is used specifically for this. It’s a very controlled environment.”

“But why? Who would intentionally do that?” Kate asks, clearly unable to wrap her head around the fact that people do this for entertainment.

“It’s a rush. You feel alive. Invincible.”

“You’ve done it before?” Alex asks.

“Not BASE jumping, no. But I’ve done pretty much every other extreme sport out there. Cave diving, kite surfing, hang gliding. I even did some ice climbing in Switzerland once. I’ve still got a couple of things I need to try.”

Alex has one eyebrow raised.

“You are not right in the ’ead,” he says, tapping his temple with his index finger.

There is a tiny part of me that wonders if he’s right. Maybe there’s something in me that’s broken.

My whole life I’ve always been seen as the spoiled rich girl with famous parents.

When I was in high school, even though I broke every softball and athletic record at the school, that didn’t stop people from calling me a nepo baby.

No matter how many home runs I scored, or track events I won, I was never enough. And I don’t mean that in an I’m-so-insecure-I-feel-inferior way. I know who I am, but it’s like nobody could separate me from my parents.

I’m so tired of being judged. And so began this quest to get others to see me for me. To try prove to others that I was capable of anything.

My parents weren’t thrilled with my newfound interest in dangerous activities, but they also realized it was a losing battle because they’d raised a strong, independent daughter. I was determined to do things on my own terms.

But what started out as this burning desire to prove myself to the people around me morphed into something more. When I told Kate it’s a rush, I really meant it.

I’m addicted to the feeling. My heart pounds like a drum in my chest, and my breath catches. Every nerve in my body feels electrified, like I’m plugged into some invisible power source. The world blurs around me, and for those wild, exhilarating moments, I feel more alive than ever—like every part of me is awake and ready to take on anything. Like I’m invincible.

I spend my life trying to outrun the judgment of others. But no matter how high, far, or fast I go, I’m still seen as that spoiled, rich nepo baby in the eyes of the world.

And maybe that really does mean I’m not right in the head.

I fumble with my apartment keys, attempting to balance a bag of takeout under one arm while my enormous tote bag that contains my laptop keeps slipping off my shoulder.

When the door swings open, I’m greeted by the subtle scent of gardenia. It’s been one of those chaotic days—one that makes me crave the sanctuary of my apartment. Or Max’s.

His apartment feels just as much like home as mine does. Although, that’s probably because he let me have free rein when it came to decorating the place.

My best friend doesn’t know sage green from robin’s egg blue, or a chaise lounge from a sectional.

If I’d left it up to him, his apartment would only contain a mattress in the bedroom and maybe some camping chairs in the living room. Although, even that is a stretch because the camping chairs were a gift (Ethan trying to be funny) that have never seen the light of day. He probably doesn’t even know where they are.

The only room that received any attention from Max was his home gym (aka spare bedroom) and man cave that has every computer gadgety-thing known to man. I suppose that’s to be expected from a computer nerd like Max. But I wouldn’t want him any other way.

And in spite of his severely lacking interior design skills, I know he loved what I did with his place. He proudly tells everybody who will listen what a great job I did. And that just makes me want to squish his cheeks because he’s so freaking adorable.

After a quick shower, I put on my baggy cat pajamas and pull my slightly damp hair into a messy bun. I don’t bother to look in the mirror. It’s just Max, after all. Instead, I grab the bag of takeout I’d dumped on the kitchen table before heading out into the hallway.

On days like this, I’m thankful the building is an L-shape, and only our apartments are on this end. I might die of embarrassment if Axel, the buff guy at the opposite end of our floor, saw me in these well-loved cat pajamas, that may or may not have a few holes.

Axel has seen me hot and sweaty plenty of times because he’s my hiking buddy, but being seen in ratty old pajamas is a step too far.

Max’s apartment door is slightly ajar. I knock lightly before pushing it open, finding him sitting on the couch, a pensive expression etched across his face.

Max’s default mode is quiet and serious, but I can tell something is bothering him.

“Hey. Rough day?” I plop down beside him on the couch and hand him his burger and fries.

“Yeah, you could say that. Thanks.” He doesn’t even bat an eyelid at the pajamas or my wet hair, and I love him for it. “How was your day?”

Over our burgers and fries I tell him what happened at work and how we all thought Alex’s client had been struck by lightning, and I tell him about Kate’s bad dates.

“I guess I won’t be signing up for any dating apps any time soon,” I say before taking another bite, savoring the delicious combination of cheese, greasy bacon, and juicy beef. I’ll have to work off these calories tomorrow.

Max goes silent and shifts in his seat, before placing his half-eaten burger down.

“You…uh…you were thinking of going on a dating app?”

His question and the strange look on Max’s face catches me off-guard and I swallow, inadvertently sending a half-chewed chunk of burger down the hatch.

My eyes start to water as the unbudging lump of food sets off a coughing fit. Through my tears I see Max’s expression shift from discomfort to alarm.

For a second, I wonder if he’s going to try the Heimlich maneuver. After all, it was him who insisted we all get first aid certified when we were in our teens.

Instead, he thumps me hard on the back, sending the saliva-coated half-chewed blob flying. It lands with a plop on his coffee table.

Without missing a beat, Max grabs a napkin, picks up the disgusting glob, and puts it in the trash like this is an everyday occurrence, while I wipe my tear-stained cheeks.

He returns from the kitchen with a glass of water which I chug in a most unladylike fashion. Truthfully, I never do anything with the grace and manners of a lady. Much to my parents’ frustration.

“You okay?” Max asks as he rubs my back.

“Yeah. Just hadn’t chewed properly.” I put the empty glass down on the table and try to change the subject. “So where were we?”

“Dating apps.”

I’m not sure if his brief grimace is at the thought of dating apps, or because he’s only now realizing he just cleaned up my gross saliva-covered mess.

Being both a safety freak and a follower of correct decorum, it really could go either way.

“Oh, yeah. I dunno, Max. I mean, the thought had crossed my mind. I’m twenty-seven, and most of our friends are settling down and having kids. I haven’t even dated anybody for two years. Not since Luke.”

Max frowns at the mention of Luke. He never liked him. Not that Max would ever say that out loud. He’s way too polite. The embodiment of courteous behavior, he was always perfectly cordial to Luke, but I know my best friend. I can read him like a book. A large print one.

He clears his throat and I can tell he’s nervous, although I’m not quite sure why.

“We can have a conversation about the safety of dating apps another time, but would you mind holding off on the dating thing? At least for a while.”

That makes me raise a brow. “Does this by any chance have to do with the will?”

For the first time, I’m starting to feel a bit concerned. What if it really is to do with an arranged marriage?

“Yeah. Uh…” Max rubs the back of his neck. “Basically, in order to inherit the money and my shares in the company, you and I need to complete a bucket list of activities.”

Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting. At all.

“Wow. That’s…unusual. You and I specifically, or you and somebody?”

“You specifically.”

Max and I have been attached at the hip since we were kids, so it’s not really a surprise that Uncle Reggie would want Max to do these bucket list activities with me, whatever they may be. We did everything together. Still do, really, so it’s not surprising, just…odd.

“That’s a bit of a strange condition for a will isn’t it? What kind of activities?”

Max gets up and fetches his laptop along with a folder that had been sitting on the kitchen counter. He pulls out a sheet of paper and hands it to me.

“Karaoke. Canoeing. Hiking. Camping. Ziplining? Salsa dancing? Rock climbing? Slam poetry? Whitewater rafting? Skydiving!” My voice seems to get higher and higher the further down the list I get.

It suddenly makes perfect sense why Uncle Reggie wanted me to do it with Max. He used to say I was like a double shot espresso and Max was like chamomile tea. Maybe he did this because he knew Max would need a little nudge from his more adventurous friend.

Looking up, I can already see the dread in Max’s face and that makes me burst out laughing. He looks green around the gills and we haven’t even done anything yet.

“Really?” Max’s expression of dread turns to one of annoyance at my reaction. “This is not funny, Maya.”

I purse my lips together in an effort to control the giggles.

“Oh Max.” Leaning over, I rest my head on his shoulder and give him a squeeze. “I know. It’s just that I know how much you’re going to hate every second of this.”

“And that’s funny?” He’s playfully indignant and pokes my ribs.

I jerk away with a laugh and put a hand on his arm.

“A little bit. I mean, it’s very on brand with Uncle Reggie. You do realize he’s probably purposefully done this to push you out of your comfort zone, right?”

Max sighs. “That’s exactly why he’s done it.”

“It could be worse. At least he didn’t arrange a marriage for you guys.”

My laughter is cut short when I look at the expression on Max’s face.

My mouth can’t help but pop open in shock. “He didn’t! He would never!”

“You give him way too much credit. Much to their chagrin, my brothers don’t have the same conditions as me. Here, watch this.”

Max flips open his laptop that’s now sitting on the coffee table in the living room, and Uncle Reggie’s cheerful face fills the screen, making something in my chest ache.

He’s been a part of my life since I was seven years old and moved into the house next door. He was like a crazy old uncle. I miss him.

When the recording ends, I’m too shocked for words.

“Crazy, right? I have no idea why he’d do something like this. I mean, we knew he was eccentric and loved the theatrical, but this is ridiculous.”

“At least you got off relatively easy compared to your brothers. Poor James. No…poor future Mrs James Fitzgerald! Oh my gosh, I have to phone Sophie. Do you think James is going to ask Sophie?” My mind is going a mile a minute. “And poor Marley.”

I’ve always liked Marley. She’s kind and generous, and a kickass businesswoman who knows her value. I was sure Ethan and Marley would one day get married, but she kicked him to the curb, and rightly so, after what he did to her. I’d be surprised if she agreed to this little arrangement. He’s going to have to do some serious groveling.

“So…uh, would you be willing to do the bucket list with me?”

Max looks at me with puppy dog eyes. But they’re completely unnecessary because I need no convincing whatsoever.

“Heck yeah! This is gonna be awesome!”

Not least of all because I think it’s gonna be hilarious to watch Max squirm. It’ll be good for him.

“I knew you’d like the idea, but I still don’t want you to feel any pressure or obligation to say yes.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve always wanted to go skydiving.”

It’s one of the few extreme sports I haven’t done.

Max looks like just the thought of it makes him feel sick.

“Max, I know this is a totally foreign concept to you, but there’s nothing quite like the way adrenaline pumps through you when you’re doing something that goes against every self-preservation instinct. When every bone in your body is screaming danger . It’s such a rush. It’s going to be amazing.”

The truth is that even though I am looking forward to doing this list, I’m worried Max is not going to be able to go through with it.

For as long as I’ve known him, he’s been safe, dependable Max. My Clark Kent lookalike who always follows the rules.

Since we were kids, he’s always been the fun police. He even used to carry a pocket-size first aid kit in case something went wrong. He’d freak out every time anybody mentioned doing anything that he considered remotely dangerous or against the rules, while I had always thought of rules as more of a suggestion.

Uncle Reggie was right about one thing: we are opposites in every way.

“Thanks Maya. I can always count on you.” Max squeezes my hand.

“Of course you can. You’re my best friend.”

Max gives me a small smile that seems more like a wince. He’s probably thinking about the bucket list of things he’d rather not do. Oh the things we do for money…