The Forgotten One (The Heirs #2)

Chapter Thirteen

When you’d spent your entire adult life waking up at the butt-crack of dawn, it was impossible to sleep in.

Max watched the sun rise on his back porch with a cup of black coffee. Just drinking his morning brew made him think of Sarah.

The woman was a walking contradiction. She wrote for a tabloid but refused to write lies ... or so she said. He wanted to believe her. He glanced at his phone, half tempted to call her right then and ask what pen name she wrote under.

He’d let her sleep in ... today.

Max wanted to trust her. Hell, he wanted to trust all the new people in his life. So far, they hadn’t given him a reason not to, but that didn’t mean he did.

Referring to Alex and Chase as his sister and brother was still something he couldn’t quite do out loud.

There were very few times in his life that he wanted to have someone to confide in, someone to share this kind of unexpected crazy that was happening in his life with. This was one of those times.

Maybe once this story broke, Max could call up Jeff and celebrate this win.

Yeah . . . he’d do that.

Max finished his coffee and glanced at the time.

He would normally be leaving to get to work by now.

And this Nick guy wasn’t meeting him until noon at some bougie-ass department store Max had never heard of. He thought the whole wardrobe thing was a waste of time. He was fine in a flannel and jeans. A T-shirt replaced said flannel in the summer. That was fine with him. There were times in his life when he didn’t have one piece of clothing that was bought just for him. As an adult, circulating the same dozen shirts and pants was more than enough. How anyone could fill a closet the size of Aaron Stone’s was beyond him.

Despite his better judgment, Max waited until after the morning rush was off the freeway and started into the city.

The drive was getting old. Even in a brand-new truck.

The shopping mall was typical of upscale California. Outdoors, with plenty of high-dollar names and more people shopping with their purse dogs than baby strollers. In short, it was a place completely unfamiliar to Max.

He looked at his watch, the one Sarah had picked apart, for the fifth time in the ten minutes he’d been standing at their meeting point.

Seconds away from getting back in his truck, Max heard his name.

“You have to be the long-lost brother.”

Max turned to see a man walking toward him, sunglasses hiding his eyes.

“Nick?”

“The one and only.” Nick lowered his glasses and looked Max up and down. “I’m so glad Alex called me.”

Max reached out to shake the other man’s hand. “This is probably a waste of your time. I’m capable of buying my own clothes.”

“Oh, you’re buying them. I’m just picking them out.” The sunglasses were shifted back into place, and Nick made some noncommittal noise. “And you need my help.”

It didn’t take any more than a greeting and a handshake to realize exactly why Alex thought Nick was the best choice to get Max ready for the camera. And even though Max didn’t need confirmation, the next words that came out of Nick’s mouth solidified it.

“You have no idea how much I was hoping that Alex’s newest brother played for my team.” Nick sighed. “My great plan is foiled again.”

“I’m not—”

“I know,” Nick interrupted. “No reason to rub it in.”

Max grinned.

“Our first appointment is with my stylist.”

“Excuse me?”

Nick started deeper into the mall. “Alex said you needed a haircut and shave. She was right. When you’re in the chair, we’ll have a chat.”

“I can shave my own—”

“I’m sure you can, but we might as well spend some of Daddy’s money.” Nick stopped talking long enough for a breath. “He was a complete ass. I’m sure Chase and Alex told you.”

“I’m starting to wonder if anyone liked the man.”

“A lot of people at the funeral pretended to.”

Nick marched into the salon that screamed man . Max wouldn’t call it a barbershop. It wasn’t filled with salty old men who’d been cutting hair for five decades and could do it in their sleep.

This was a place that spent a bunch of money to impress you the second you walked through the doors. Dark gray walls, light gray floors, and chrome accents offered a monochromatic look that felt modern and sleek.

A woman at the reception desk greeted Nick with a hug and a kiss to the cheek. “Jason is expecting you.”

Nick motioned Max to follow.

Jason greeted Nick with a hello and a handshake.

“My friend I was telling you about,” Nick told him.

Friend? They’d known each other for less than five minutes.

“I’m Max,” he said before shaking Jason’s hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You look a little shell-shocked,” Jason said.

Max glanced around the room. “I’m used to the red-and-white pole outside the building.”

Jason patted the chair, encouraging Max to sit. “First time in a salon like this?”

“Yeah.”

“But not his last,” Nick chimed in.

“We do all the same stuff. Just more money.”

Nick nudged Jason’s shoulder. “He’s humble. You’ll love what he does.”

Max sat in the chair and looked at the mirror in front of him. A framed picture of a woman with a toddler smiled back. “Is that your son?”

Jason nodded. “He just turned three.”

“He looks like you.”

“I know ... poor kid.” Jason caught Max’s gaze in the mirror. “What are we doing today?”

Max ran a hand over his beard. “This needs to go. Not completely. But something I can manage at home.”

“And your hair?”

“Longer on the top, number three at the bottom.”

“Perfect,” Nick said with a clap of his hands. “I’m going to grab a couple of things; I’ll be right back.”

With Nick gone, Jason pulled a cape over Max’s body and snapped it around his neck. “Nick is a force.”

“He is.”

Jason got right to work. “He says you’re doing some kind of media thing?”

“Yeah.” Max didn’t elaborate.

“Well, Nick is the right guy to get you Hollywood-ready.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for any of it.”

Jason smiled through the mirror. “You will be.”

For the next forty minutes, Max let Jason wash and cut his hair and soften and trim his beard until the man staring back at him in the mirror looked like a different person.

Nick returned and asked all kinds of questions. What colors did Max have in his closet? What was absolutely a no on the color wheel? And what was Max flexible on?

Max vetoed ties but agreed he could probably use one suit in his closet. But no tie. He preferred jeans but was willing to try something else.

Had he ever put on silk?

No. And he didn’t think he ever would.

When it was time to leave the salon, Max exercised his new credit card and tried his best to not look like a complete idiot when it came to the price. Yes, Jason had done a good job, but holy hell was the man expensive.

“You could feed a village for what that just cost,” Max told Nick once they left.

“Do me a favor,” Nick said as he set the pace for the day. “Try and remember that the money you’re spending came from the man who walked away when he should have stuck around. It will make today’s expense a lot less painful.”

Nick had a point.

Sarah knew the moment she saw Max’s name pop up on her screen that he was going to be demanding.

He didn’t disappoint.

“I hope you haven’t eaten,” he started.

She stared at the plate of leftovers she was about to dig into and pushed them aside. “That depends. Do I have to pay this time?”

“Naw ... I think I can cover you.”

Max gave her the name of a restaurant she’d never heard of, but it was only thirty minutes from her apartment. “I’m told it’s a hole-in-the-wall, public but quiet.”

“Am I getting my story?”

“You are. But you’re not publishing it until nine tomorrow morning.”

“That’s strangely specific.”

“One minute before and I won’t hand you the information everyone else will be scrambling for the second this breaks.”

Sarah’s pulse picked up.

“You have my word.”

He made a noise as if he didn’t believe her.

“I’ll see you at seven.”

She looked at her watch. “That’s in forty minutes.” Sarah loved a challenge but hated to rush.

“Is that a problem?”

Sarah pushed away from her dining table and hustled into her room. “Nope. Is this a nice place? Wait, you said hole-in-the-wall.”

“Secluded, but not a dive. Maybe the Converse should be saved for another day.”

She stopped dead in her tracks. “You noticed my shoes?”

Max laughed. “Bye, Sarah.”

Moaning, she tossed her phone on the bed and threw open her closet door.

Forty-three minutes later, Sarah was tugging the edges of her dress down as she scrambled into the storefront restaurant that didn’t look like much from the outside. Any concern she had about the place being a dive ended at the reception podium.

Smoky lighting and an opulent entrance were quickly followed by the scent of garlic and spices and roasted meats.

Sarah waited as the couple in front of her was taken back to a table.

The perfectly polished hostess greeted her with a smile. “Good evening. Do you have a reservation?”

“I’m meeting someone.”

“Mr. Smith?” she asked.

Sarah paused. “Yes.”

“Very good. Follow me.”

They walked down quiet isles of half booths mainly filled with couples.

Max’s heads-up about her sneakers had been a good call. As luck had it, the only thing she could grab that wasn’t dirty was a dress. Though she should have put on heels.

Oh well, she was here for a story. Not a date.

The hostess slowed her pace as they approached a table with a man sitting by himself.

It took Sarah a full breath to realize it was Max.

The beard was no longer a beard, and if she thought his hair was short before, this new look came right out of a GQ magazine. He wore a dark turtleneck sweater that looked soft enough to pet. Her eyes traveled down, where she noticed a stylish pair of shoes and pants that weren’t jeans.

He looked . . .

He ... oh, damn. Max Smith was sexy as hell, and she was kicking herself at that moment for not taking the time to put in her contacts and do something with her unruly hair.

Not that he gifted her any time to get ready.

“Hello, Sarah.”

“I, ah ... hardly recognized you,” she said in all honesty.

“Must be the haircut,” he said.

The smile flashed suggested he knew exactly how good he looked.

Sarah cleared her suddenly dry throat and placed her oversize purse on the booth seat. As she started to shrug out of her coat, Max stood up and helped her.

The palms of his hands hesitated on her shoulders and the skin at the nape of her neck prickled. “Thanks.”

He smiled as he handed the coat back.

“This place is nice.” She shuffled into the booth.

“Looks like it,” he said.

“You’ve never been here before?”

“No.”

“How did you hear about it?” She pulled at the sleeve of her dress.

He paused. “My brother.”

“Oh. Does he live close by?”

“Close enough.”

Sarah fiddled with her skirt and pulled her hair behind her back before settling into her seat.

When she looked up, Max was staring.

“What?”

“Are those new glasses?”

She regarded him with a tilt of her head. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone noticed her glasses except to ask why she wore them instead of contacts. “Someone broke my other ones.”

He grinned. “I hope you gave him hell.”

“I really haven’t had the opportunity to ... yet.”

“I’m sure you’ll get around to it.”

Sarah stopped fidgeting and folded her hands on top of the table. “Why the new look?”

“You don’t like it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fishing for a compliment?”

“No, I just like poking at you.”

“I noticed.” Her smile matched his.

The waiter stopped by the table, asked them for a drink order.

“Do you want wine?” Max asked her.

“I’m not much on wine.” She turned her attention to the waiter. “I’ll have a fuzzy navel.”

Max smirked and ordered a whiskey on the rocks.

When the waiter left, Max said, “You drink your coffee black and your cocktails with a cup of sugar.”

“Black coffee is the cheapest drink at any coffee shop, and fruity cocktails can be ordered with any house brand of liquor and still taste good.”

“Did your bartender friend tell you that?”

“Teri is my roommate, and yes. Have you ever had a martini with Smirnoff?”

“No.”

“One star. Do not recommend.”

Amusement danced in Max’s eyes.

“So why the makeover?” she asked, redirecting their conversation back to him.

He leaned back, took a breath. “I have a board meeting in the morning.”

That sounded ridiculous. “I didn’t take you as a board-meeting kinda guy.”

“First time for everything.”

“Your first?” Her smile fell. Sarah’s thoughts went straight to Aaron Stone. “Wait, are we talking the board of Stone Enterprises?” Sarah had done her homework. Max Smith didn’t have anything to do with Stone Enterprises. That was the first place she’d looked when she was trying to connect the dots Patrick had sent her out to find.

Max nodded.

“Did you buy shares?”

“I didn’t buy anything. I inherited them ... from my father.”

Sarah shook her head. “There haven’t been any changes on that board except ...” Their eyes locked; realization came into focus.

Adrenaline rushed in her veins.

“Aaron Stone was your father ?”

Max lifted his hands in the air, palms up. “So I’m told.”

Her mouth fell open. This was huge.

Huge!

She wasn’t going to lose her job with a story this huge !

“How? What . . . Holy cow. How long . . . did you—”

“Breathe, Sarah.”

She placed a hand on her chest and pulled in a deep breath.

Max leaned forward. “Two weeks ago, Chase and Alex Stone showed up at my door and told me that I was their half brother. Up until that moment, I had no idea who my father was. I was told he was dead. Dead long before Aaron Stone’s heart attack.”

“Did your mother tell you he was dead?”

Max shook his head. “If you want the mother story, and you do want the mother story ... you won’t publish this news until five past nine tomorrow morning.”

“Holy shit balls, Max. This is big.”

“Trust me, I’m aware.”

“Who knows about this?”

“A very small circle.”

Sarah reached for her purse.

Max’s hand slid across the table and landed on her arm, stopping her. “All of this is in a statement, the public one. I have a copy for you in my truck.”

She needed to write this down.

Max squeezed her arm.

Instead of reaching for a pen, she listened.

“The board meeting is taking place tomorrow at the same time you’ll be publishing this story. As the board is being told of my existence, you’ll tell the world. At nine fifteen, memos will be sent company-wide. By ten, the public statement will reach the masses. The facts but nothing more. You’ll have an interview, direct quotes, and exclusive photographs.”

“Now the reason for the makeover is crystal clear.”

Max released her arm and ran the back of his hand across his face. “It was getting out of control anyway.”

Sarah felt some of her body relax. “At the risk of it going to your head, this is a better look.”

He winked at her.

She felt heat rush to her face. “How many shares in the company did Stone leave you?”

“Not only shares ... he left me a third of his estate.”

She could not open her eyes any wider, his wink forgotten. “The whole estate?”

“Ah-huh. I don’t know exactly what all of that is yet, but I’m told it’s a lot.”

“It’s billions.” Her voice rose. Sarah caught herself and lowered it. “Billions. Max. I did my homework. It’s more than a lot. Wait ... I’m having dinner with a billionaire.” Her hand dropped on the table. “You made me buy your coffee ... that you didn’t drink.”

He was trying to hold back a grin. “I told you I would make it up to you.”

The waiter returned with their cocktails.

Sarah looked at her sugary go-to and shook her head. “I’ve changed my mind.” Staring right into Max’s eyes, she said, “I’ll have a Grey Goose martini, extra dirty, with two olives.”

Max really did have a beautiful smile.