“By yourself?” I wonder.
His eyes twinkle when he turns to me. “Kind of lonely, don’t you think?”
I nod. “Very. You could get Vance or Yates to join you.”
He burst out laughing. “Fuck that. I’d probably kill them before getting out of the harbor.”
This time I laugh. “I can see that. They’re not exactly the kind of friends I’d like to have around.”
He nods. “Sometimes I wonder why I do.” There’s a hint of sadness in his tone, but then it quickly disappears. “Ready to eat?”
My stomach growls. “More than ready.”
When we get down below, the table is covered with food. We each have a steak with a lump of crab meat on top, a baked potato, and steamed broccoli. Then, for dessert, there are two pieces of chocolate cake.
Max leads me over to the table and pours me a glass of wine. “I can cook, but I had this catered in since I didn’t have much time.”
I breathe in the food. “You cook? I thought maybe you had personal chefs for that.”
He sits across from me and chuckles, but I sense the hint of resentment in his tone. “My father and my step-mother do.”
“Do you not get along with them?” I ask.
He shrugs. “My dad’s an asshole and my step-mother’s a pretentious bitch. She’s only with him for his money. That’s been apparent from day one.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He made his choice and he’ll pay for it in the end. Literally.” He cuts into his steak and I do the same. It tastes like heaven. I’m half-tempted to dig into the chocolate cake, but I show restraint. “What about you?” Max asks. “I don’t see how a woman like you can be single.”
“That’s because you don’t know anything about my life.”
He leans back in his chair. “Then tell me.”
I eat another bite of steak and wash it down with the wine. “Okay, here it goes. I got married right out of high school and the bastard took all of my money. That’s why I live with two other women and work as a waitress at the yacht club.”
Max stares curiously at me and nods. “I see. I may not have you beat, but my life isn’t perfect either.”
“Oh yeah,” I laugh, staring at him incredulously. “I doubt that.”
He sets his fork down and leans on his elbows. There’s a sadness in his eyes I’ve never seen before. It makes me regret laughing at him. “Yes, my family has money, but it’s not always a good thing. My parents divorced because my dad wanted something younger and better. My ex-fiancé wanted to control my life, and did for a long time until I got tired of it. Then, on top of that, I don’t have any true friends. They always want something from me.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?”
He averts his gaze for a moment, but then turns those green eyes of his back to mine. “I don’t know. I just feel like I can.”
It’s crazy but I feel the same way too. We eat the rest of our dinner, but Max grabs our pieces of cake and carries them up on deck. We sit on the cushions and I lean against the pillows. The stars are out in full force, making the night a magical one. There’s no one around, only the ocean and the moonlight.
“What are your dreams, London? Surely you don’t want to stay at the yacht club for the rest of your life.”
“Actually, I do.”
He stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “Seriously?”
I hold up a hand. “Not as a waitress, but as management. There’s a position opening up soon and I want to apply for it.”
“Think you’ll get it?”
I shrug. “Don’t know, but I hope so. The pay is close to three times what I’m making now. I could really use the promotion.”
His lips pull back in that devilish grin of his. “Maybe you’ll get it.”
“What about you? What are your dreams?”
He blows out a breath and lays down, his attention on the stars. “All I’ve known is sailing. I want to compete for as long as I can.”
“And when you get old?” I ask, lying down next to him. “You won’t be able to sail professionally anymore. You’ll be too slow.”
“Yeah, I know,” he replies sadly. A few seconds pass and then he turns his head my way. “My dad wants me to work at his company when I retire from sailing. He owns Richmond Holdings. They’re one of the largest architectural firms in the world.”
Yes, I know, but I don’t tell him that. I think everyone knows who his father is. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t want to do that?”
“Because I don’t,” he answers, his voice low.
“And why not?”
He exhales and rolls on top of me, his hand gentle as he brushes the hair away from my face. “My whole life I’ve had people tell me what to do. For once, I want to choose my own future.”