Chapter 1

Harbor View Towers

Maxie Jones was livid, and it was entirely her fault.

Kate Howard had entrusted her with the task of ordering the newest cobalt, satin Manolo Blahnik pump to wear with her black Nina La Renta cocktail dress, and she had failed.

Miserably.

Technically, she could blame Lulu Spencer for mixing up the shoes for the Emily Bowen Quartermaine Free Clinic Fundraiser being held this Friday night at the MetroCourt with the General Hospital Nurse's Ball that was the following week.

So when Kate breezed into the Crimson office that morning, holding one hand out for her latte, the other for her messages, and asking if her Manolo Blahniks had arrived, Maxie's blood nearly ran cold. She tried to convince Kate that she had asked for the hot-off-the-shoehorn Jimmy Choo, but the fashion buff knew better, and simply rolled her eyes and told Maxie to get the shoes or else she and Lulu both would be fired.

Of course, when Maxie started making calls, first to Manhattan, and then across the country, desperate to find the damn shoe somewhere, she was told they were being wait-listed, and Kate Howard would have to be patient.

The once fashion icon's reputation had gone to hell in a hand basket the second she'd chosen Sonny Corinthos over all things Couture, which was the stupidest thing the woman could have ever done, but Maxie would never tell Kate such a thing.

She liked her job too much.

Sighing, she tapped her foot, impatiently waiting for the elevator to open on the fifteenth floor of Harbor View Towers. If she was going to fix her problem, there was only one person she could count on, and her job depended on it, so she knew Damien Spinelli would come through.

"Thank God," she muttered, when the elevator dinged and the doors parted. She thought about telling Jason Morgan that a mobster should have speedier means of getting to his penthouse, but she was already walking a fine line with him.

Just last week, she'd not so slightly scratched his pool table while her and Spinelli were playing around one afternoon, and he'd looked up from his travel book about some third world country or another, and told her to never touch his pool table again. She dropped the pool stick immediately, letting it clang to the hardwood floor, before stepping over it in her black Frederico Cabrero pumps and telling Jason to stuff it.

Spinelli started to spit and sputter on the spot, and Maxie couldn't actually believe she'd said it, but she did have an annoying habit of speaking without thinking. Fortunately for her, just when Jason's brow raised and his lips parted, his cell phone rang and distracted him from whatever speech he was going to give her about respect.

If Jason Morgan wanted her respect, he was going to have to earn it. Otherwise, she was giving him hell until he did.

"Spinelli!" she screeched, pounding her tiny fist against the door. "I have an emergency, and if you don't help me, I will never speak to you a-"

The door promptly swung open and Spinelli appeared in his usual disheveled appearance of a striped collared shirt, paired with checkered shorts and extremely messy hair.

Maxie wasn't even going to comment on the hair.

Or the fact that there were barbecue chip crumbs stuck to the orange soda stain on his shirt.

"You're a mess," she said, unable to help herself as she stepped past him and into the penthouse. She dropped her oversized black Chanel bag on Jason's desk near the door, before turning around and batting her eyes at Spinelli as she grinned widely. "I need a favor, a huge, epic favor, and my job depends on it! You have to fix this for me Spinelli!"

"I see," he said, closing the door behind her and returning her smile. His voice dropped a few octaves so that it was low and husky. "So, how may the Jackal service the Fair Maximista today?"

"Why are you talking like that?" she asked, arching an eyebrow as she reached over to her purse and pulled out a photograph. "I need these. Like yesterday. Or else Kate is going to fire me and that sorry, good-for-nothing-but-stomping-around-on-floors Lulu, and every hope and dream I have of becoming a fashion icon of my own will diminish, and I'll be the girl who screwed up Kate Howard's shoes."

She paused, catching her breath as she shook her head. "Granted, Kate's leverage has dropped completely after bedding Sonny Corinthos. I mean, I would never throw my life long dream of being a true fashion icon away for some stupid man. Even if he's tall, dark, handsome and has the wallet to back it up." She reached out and poked Spinelli in the arm. "This is why I like you. You don't try to get in the way of my dreams or prevent me from being so fashionably awesome. Though we could do some work on you."

"Anyway," she sighed, holding out the photograph, "I need these now."

Spinelli nodded, frowning at the picture and lifting his eyes to her's. "Fair Maximista, how am I, the Jackal, supposed to aid you in getting a pair of Man-Lo Blan-kicks?"

"Manolo Blahniks," she corrected, rolling her eyes. "What are you standing there for?" She grabbed him by the arm and shoved him towards the couch, bending over at the same time to slide his laptop in front of him. "Find these shoes."

"Fair Maximista, I don't think you under-"

"Fired, Spinelli. I am going to get fired, and lose everything that I ever wanted. Do you want that to happen?"

"Well, no, but the Jackal isn't privy to aspects of the fashion world, and how does one go about obtaining said shoes?"

"The shoes are on a waiting list. They are the newest pair, and Kate needs them-"

"Like yesterday," he cut in, as if she needed the reminder.

"Exactly," she huffed, walking around to the back of the couch, where she proceeded to pace and wring her hands. "I called every freaking store in this country, because there's no way I get could them from overseas or even Canada this quickly, and they all said Kate Howard – the one fashion icon of the world – had to wait. This is exactly why you don't sleep with Sonny Corinthos."

"So," she hissed, leaning over the back of the couch and grabbing Spinelli by the collar. She jerked him back so that her mouth was next to his ear. "You need to hack into one of their systems, find the damn waiting listing, and put Kate Howard at the top." She started to release him, and then pulled him back again. "Or you could find a pair that are ready to go out or already shipped and hack into UPS or Fed-Ex or one of those damn services. Just get the pumps, and make sure they are in a size 9."

"Erm, well, the Jackal, just can't-"

"Spinelli," she hissed, her breath hot on his ear. "I need you to do this for me. My life depends on it, and you care about my life don't you?"

He nodded. "The Jackal will do his best to save the Fair Maximista."

"And that is why I love you, Spinelli," she said, pressing a kiss against his cheek as she released him and straightened up behind the couch. "Now get to work!"

She continued to pace back and forth behind the couch, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floors. She hated feeling anxious, because that meant she was nervous, which usually meant she broke into a sweat.

Maxie didn't like to sweat. Ever.

Damn Kate Howard, and her high society needs.

But perhaps, maybe one day, she'd have a fashion magazine of her own and two minions to boss around. One that she would love and adore and the other she would constantly roll her eyes at and make snide remarks. If she was really lucky, maybe one day she could take over at Crimson, and Lulu Spencer, being the girl who never seems to get anywhere, would be forced to be her assistant.

On second thought, Maxie would just fire that clomping, can't-match-clothes-if-her-life-depended-on-it-heavy breather on the spot, which made such a dream very worth it.

She looked over briefly at Spinelli, who was typing away furiously and muttering under his breath. He stopped occasionally to look at the photograph, making lots of hmms, and Maxie had no idea how to feel about that.

He had to fix this.

Her eyes shifted to the door to see Jason Morgan coming inside, wearing his quintessential leather jacket and black t-shirt.

Now there was a man who was definitely in a fashion crisis. Not that she was going to tell him that. She seriously valued her life way too much to tell a mobster his look wasn't working for him. She'd seen enough movies, and the last thing she wanted was for Milo and Max to grab her in an alley and tie her to cement blocks.

"Spinelli, I need you to do some work for me," he said, sliding his jacket off as he walked over to the closet to hang up his jacket.

At least he was neat with his things.

"The Jackal is currently-"

"Busy," Maxie cut in, glaring at her friend. She pointed a slender finger at him and narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare move until you get me those shoes!"

"Shoes?" Jason grunted, sliding his gun into the lock box and closing the closet door. She'd seen him do this on a regular basis, but it still made her knees tremble.

"Yes, shoes," she said flatly, hurrying over to him in hopes of keeping him away from Spinelli. "He is doing some very important work for me and Crimson, and the last thing he needs is-"

"Work for Kate?" Jason asked, arching an eyebrow as he shook his head.

"Not so much Kate as it is for me," Maxie replied seriously, placing a hand on her chest. "Look I get that you hate her for paying off Ian Devlin, who was responsible for Michael's shooting, but this isn't about her. It's about me."

"Like most things are," he said, rolling his eyes as he looked over her shoulder at Spinelli. "When you're finished with her, I need you to do some work for me."

"The Jackal will be at your services shortly," he murmured, holding up a hand as he clicked several keys, before jumping up from the couch. "Aha! Man-Lo Blan-kicks are now en route to the MetroCourt hotel and should arrive promptly tomorrow afternoon."

"Aw, Spinelli, you're the greatest!" Maxie cried, hurrying over to him and throwing her arms around his neck. "I really have no idea what I would do without you. Those shoes are going to save my life."

"Well, I hope the poor soul in lower Manhattan doesn't mind being trumped by the true fashionista," he replied, holding her tightly against him.

"Well, the Jackal is all your's," she sighed, pulling out of his arms and hurrying over to grab her purse. "I have to get back to the office. I spent my lunch break hoping to avert this crisis."

Jason's phone rang and he slipped it from his pocket, his eyebrows raised at seeing the name on the caller ID. "I have to go," he muttered, opening the closet door and grabbing his jacket and gun that he'd just put away. He hurried out, sliding the phone to his ear and murmuring a low hello.

Maxie turned to Spinelli when the door closed behind him, her brows furrowed in confusion. "What was that about?" she asked, sliding her purse over her shoulder and pointing to where Jason was just standing.

"Stone Cold clearly had some place to be," he shrugged, sitting back down in front of his computer. "Though I would have appreciated it if he told me what exactly the Jackal needed to do, but alas…"

"No, Spinelli, you don't get it," she said, walking over to the chair and sitting down on the arm. "He did the same thing a few times last week. Like remember when I was reading one of his gun magazines, and I said something about how I wanted a cute, pink Beretta, and he was all guns aren't supposed to be cute, and I said, well if they were people wouldn't be so scared of him. And he did that whole you're supposed to be scared of them thing, and I said no, people are afraid of you even without the guns. So maybe a pink Beretta would do you some good. Remember?"

Spinelli nodded slowly, rubbing his fingers against his temple.

"Well, his phone rang just as steam started to pour out of his ear, but the second he saw the caller ID, he smiled and hurried out of the room."

"Well, perhaps, Stone Cold was awaiting the most important of coffee bean news."

"You're not getting it," she laughed, gently brushing her blonde hair from her face. "I mean, another example, the other day when we ordered pizza, and I jokingly said I loved pizza and beer to make fun of him and his desperate desire to have a beer with his pizza-"

"Stone Cold enjoys a cold beverage when the Fair Maximista is in his presence," he cut in, but she rolled her eyes, ignoring him.

"He started to get all I'm Jason Morgan and you can go suck it, but before the words left his mouth, his phone rang and he hurried out," Maxie said, grinning widely. "Just like he did seconds ago. And his face turns soft – one of those I'm so happy, but I don't want people to know it kind of grins. Not that I'm complaining because Jason could benefit from cracking a smile every now and then."

"Is the Fair Maximista trying to get at something?"

"Well, unless Jason gets really excited about coffee beans..." She shrugged, getting up from the chair. "I think Stone Cold has a secret he's keeping from you."