Chapter 4

CC had caught the look of contempt on the driver's face as he held the door of the limo for her, but she didn't care. He'd never tell Sara; Maxwell signed his checks, and CC herself wrote them.

As she waited for the elevator to carry her to her apartment, she considered what had just happened. She'd gotten what she wanted, but she felt more unsettled than exultant. Maxwell had been… more passionate than she had anticipated. Angrier, too.

The elevator arrived at her floor, and its bell pulled her from her thoughts. She stepped out into the corridor and slid the key into the lock, opening her door. She left the lights off as she entered her apartment, discarding her heels near the door and dropping her bag and her blazer on the sofa. She needed a drink.


The next morning, CC woke with a headache and the memory of Maxwell's fingers inside her, his mouth on her breast. She groaned and burrowed her head in her pillow, loath to begin the day. But there were more dress rehearsals to scrutinize and last-minute details to settle and, she decided, a date to procure for the opening night party. She was sure Maxwell would be wracked with guilt, and she supposed that what had happened in the limo was unlikely to happen again. This might, she admitted to herself, thinking of the kiss they had shared before she left him, be for the best. In any case, a distraction could prove enjoyable.

Thumbing through her address book as she sipped her morning coffee, she decided to call Luke Branigan, whom she had met at a charity gala several months prior. He worked on Wall Street, and if her memory was accurate, he had been as charming as he was handsome. And he had liked her.

She dialed the number. "Luke? CC Babcock, we met this summer… you remember? Yes, I think I was wearing… listen, are you free on Friday night? … Would you like to come to my new play? I'll pick you up at 6 for dinner first, how's that?"


On opening night, CC arrived at the theater with Luke in tow. She had carefully chosen a crimson wrap dress with a high collar and a plunging neckline. Luke had seemed to appreciate it, barely taking his eyes off her breasts the entire time they'd been having dinner. CC found herself put out with him, in spite of his good looks and the fine figure they cut together, both tall, her blonde contrasting with his dark. He was a poor replacement for… well. They just didn't have much in common, and CC looked forward to sending him on his way as soon as she finished with him.

She spotted Maxwell and Sara speaking with a circle of investors, and Ben Vandenberg had just introduced himself to Sara.

CC took Luke's hand, and if the smile she directed at him didn't quite reach her eyes, he never knew the difference. They walked together to the group, and CC called out, "Hello, hello," her artificial enthusiasm noticed as such only by Maxwell and perhaps Sara.

CC went first to Vandenberg, touching his shoulder and introducing him to Luke, whose hand she still held. Vandenberg's eyes darted from CC to Maxwell, and he noticed the tightening of Maxwell's expression as CC spoke vivaciously to her date. CC didn't see Maxwell hide his fists in his pockets, but Vandenberg did. He had suspected something between the two producers when he had joined them at the Japanese restaurant. The lighting in the place had been dim, but not that dim. Maxwell's reaction tonight confirmed it, and Vandenberg smirked. What did he care, he was just in it for the return on his investment.

Leaving Luke chatting with Vandenberg, CC turned to Sara, ignoring Maxwell at her side. "What do you think?" CC asked her, glancing at Luke.

Sara smiled at her, a little surprised at the friendly overture. "Very nice. I hope you get a chance to introduce him later; I can see he's talking business now."

"Of course. I hope so, too," CC responded absently, her gaze moving to Maxwell. She drew in a breath when she saw his expression. "Good evening, Maxwell," she said, her voice only a little ragged.

"CC," he nodded, his tone curt. He tightened his arm around Sara's waist. "Let's go find our seats, darling," he said to his wife.

Sara touched CC's shoulder. "We'll see you inside, okay?"

CC nodded and watched them go, then turned to find Luke. If she hadn't, she would have seen Maxwell glancing over his shoulder, seeking her out in the crowd as he moved away from her.


CC knew, and Maxwell did too, that a standing ovation after a play didn't always mean critical success. But it did mean that the audience had enjoyed it, and neither could resist exchanging grins as the applause continued all around them. Maxwell stepped in front of Sara and pulled CC into a hug, his body shielding his wife from seeing his hands tangle in CC's hair. CC felt her heart speed up at being in his arms again, and shifted her body against his. Maxwell pulled back, ignoring the annoyed look Luke directed his way.

Maxwell spoke so only CC could hear. "See you at the party after?" His voice shook.

She nodded.


The opening party was a grand success, the cast and crew energized by the audience's enthusiasm. Maxwell was at the center of it all, schmoozing investors and dancing with the lead actress, and the lead actress's understudy, and his wife, and once even with CC, in spite of her resistance and Luke's unwillingness.

CC didn't give a damn what Luke had to say, but she didn't trust herself in Maxwell's arms, not in front of everyone they knew. Not in front of Sara. As he held her tight against his chest and led her around the makeshift dance floor, CC let her body meld with his, in spite of her better judgment.

Vandenberg watched them from across the room, shaking his head at their brazen behavior. The two of them were ballsier than anyone he'd met in a while. Such risk-taking might contribute to their success in the theater, but he was glad he didn't have anything invested in their personal lives.

"Are you seeing him now?" Maxwell murmured in CC's ear.

"Luke? Why do you care?" She asked dismissively.

"Because I bloody well do, and you know it," he said, grinding out the words.

"No," she responded, "I don't know it. Max, are you jealous?" Incredulity colored her tone.

He swallowed and said quietly, "I have no right to be."

"That's for damn sure. Your wife would say the same, I suspect," CC said, anger mixing with derision in her statement. "You haven't touched me in a week. You barely spoke to me until tonight."

"Can't you see the position I'm in? It's untenable," Maxwell told her.

"Why don't you spell it out for me?" CC looked into his eyes, and was taken aback by the emotion she saw there.

"I don't want to do this here," he said.

"Then come over later. After this ends."

He nodded. He shouldn't, but he would.


"Maxwell, aren't you just about ready to head home? My feet are killing me," Sara laughed and clutched his arm as she slipped one of her heels off to flex her aching foot.

"You go without me, my dear. Take the limo; I'll come by cab. I really have to stay till the party ends. You understand," he said, and she nodded.

"I think I will. I want to check on Grace, too; she was coughing again this morning."

Maxwell kissed her cheek. "I may be quite late."

"I know, I know, a producer's work is never done," Sara teased him and turned to go.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Maxwell sought out CC. "How soon can we leave?" He murmured, standing beside her.

"Let me just get rid of Luke. You go speak with the investors who are still here."


CC unlocked the doors of her BMW, first Maxwell's and then her own. She slid behind the wheel as he settled in beside her. As soon as she closed her door, he reached for her. She went into his arms willingly, and stroked her tongue along his lips. The gearshift ground into her thigh, but she barely noticed as he opened his mouth for her. They kissed languorously, hands wandering. Maxwell had just reached inside her dress to fondle her nipple when CC pulled back, breathing hard.

"Let's wait till we get to the penthouse. Entertaining as it might be to fuck you in my car, I'd rather have you in my bed."

Maxwell collapsed against the seat, speechless at her words and at the need that threatened to overwhelm him. "Go," he choked out, and she slid the car into gear.

CC drove just over the edge of the speed limit and within 20 minutes, she was pulling into the reserved space in the garage beneath her building.