I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,339

with her weekend?” Max replied.

My stomach jolted. Had I overstayed my welcome? I’d just been trying to help. Max didn’t need to be so ungrateful. I opened my mouth to excuse myself, but Amanda took her father’s hand and tried to pull him along the street. “No silly. It means we have something to celebrate.”

Max rolled his eyes. “As if you need any excuse.”

“I’ll leave you guys to it. Your dress is beautiful, Amanda.”

Amanda’s eyes narrowed. “No. You have to come,” she said. “You have to celebrate with us.” She beckoned to me to follow them.

“You celebrate with your dad,” I replied, glancing in the other direction. Shopping hadn’t really involved much interaction with Max. Most of my time had been spent with Amanda. Other than the cab ride, things hadn’t been too uncomfortable. And seeing Max with Amanda suggested they had a better relationship than I’d ever had with my father. If I left now, I would be ahead. I’d survived without calling my boss an asshole and without getting naked with him. Perhaps there was middle ground. And hopefully the constant comparisons I’d been making between Max and Amanda’s relationship and my father’s and mine would stop.

“I want you to come,” Amanda said.

I smiled but before I could think up an excuse, Max intervened. “Amanda, Harper has things to do. We have imposed on her free time enough.”

He clearly wanted to be rid of me. And I got it. Just days after agreeing to keep things strictly professional, I was standing on a sidewalk with him and his daughter. And even though I wanted to leave, it hurt just a little that he was so keen for me to go.

Amanda’s face fell. “I don’t want to celebrate without her. If it hadn’t been for Harper, I wouldn’t have found my dress. Are you sure you can’t come? We’re going to my favorite place.”

I glanced at Max, whose gaze travelled between me and his daughter. The corners of his mouth twitched, as if he was trying to suppress a smile.

“I’m sure your dad wants to switch off from work and spend time with you—”

“Daaad,” Amanda said. “You want Harper to come, don’t you?”

Max ruffled his daughter’s hair and she quickly moved out of reach. He turned to me and gave me the biggest panty-melting smile I’d ever seen, his green eyes dancing against the New York sun, framed by almost too long lashes. “Harper, we’d love for you to come if you can spare the time. But don’t feel you have to give into my daughter’s whining. She’s far too used to getting her own way.”

Before the sensible side of me—the part enjoying this new middle ground—could run back downtown, I agreed.

“I suppose I should have asked before I said yes, but where are we celebrating?” I asked as we walked east.

“Serendipity,” Amanda replied. “It’s our place. We always come in on the train at the end of summer and celebrate going back to school.”

“From your mom’s?” I asked.

“From Connecticut. Sometimes my mom and Jason come, but sometimes we come in together. Do you remember that year Aunt Scarlett came as well?” she asked her dad. “She wanted to order one of everything because she couldn’t decide.”

“She did order one of everything,” Max said. “Which is pretty typical of my sister.”

“My mom and Jason moved to Europe so it’s just me and Dad now.” She turned back to her dad. “You love having me living with you all the time, don’t you?”

Max chuckled and glanced at me. “She’s driving me crazy.”

They lived together?

“I didn’t realize you lived in Connecticut,” I said. I was fascinated at how the King of Wall Street had a secret life away from Manhattan. I felt like an investigative journalist, putting little scraps of information together.

“Yeah, near Mom and Jason’s place. And Grandma and Grandpa King and Grand-Bob and Grand-Mary. And Scarlett.”

“Jesus. It makes us sound like we’re living in some kind of commune.” Max slung his arms around his daughter’s shoulder. “We just all live close. Amanda’s mother, Pandora, and I were in high school together, and it made sense after college to make sure we lived near each other. That way,” he said, turning to Amanda, “when your mother got sick of you, she could get a break and dump you with me.”

Amanda grinned and rolled her eyes, the explanation clearly something she was used to hearing.

“So the apartment is just a pied-à-terre?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. I used to stay in Manhattan