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“I don’t know what to say.” A tear hangs on to her eyelashes.
I rub my thumb over her knuckles. “Let’s share favorites.”
“Like what?”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue, right now.”
“Favorite food?”
She wrinkles her nose. “I’m not sure. Probably anything Lucille cooks.”
“I can’t blame you. Dinner the other night was amazing.”
Zarah relaxes, and I blow out a silent breath of relief. I want her to like spending time with me.
Our waitress serves our food, and Zarah inhales the macaroni and cheese. I follow a little more slowly, but it’s fun watching her enjoy her meal. I have a feeling I’ll like watching whatever activity Zarah finds pleasure in.
We didn’t order dessert, but the waitress clears our plates and sets a dish of warmed up brownie and melting ice cream onto our table. There are two spoons, and I offer her one.
“Thanks. Tell me about Max,” she says, reaching for the spoon and dragging it through a dollop of fluffy whipped cream.
I taste a small bite of brownie. The chocolate melts in my mouth. “Like what?”
She shrugs. “You don’t like talking about him?”
I don’t, but I can’t tell her that. Then she’ll want to know why. “It’s not that.” It’s exactly like that. “We weren’t close, and I feel bad about that now that he’s gone.”
I try another bite of the brownie, but it doesn’t taste good anymore.
“You didn’t grow up together?”
“No. Max and I have different fathers. My mom remarried and had Max, and I chose to live with Pop.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Did Max talk about me at all?”
Zarah shakes her head, confirming my suspicions. “No. I didn’t know he had a brother until you picked up his things at the Crowne.”
That was a sad day for me. Grabbing Max’s clothes from the hotel. Because the Feds took his laptop and all his notes and Richard Denton adopted Smokey, there wasn’t much left to pack. I only did because Mike McClennan read Max’s will and told me I had no choice.
It hurts, but I’m not surprised. I’m not surprised Max didn’t ask me to help them, either, and after meeting Zarah, I’m grateful. I don’t need to have pictures in my head of them pawing at each other. My overactive imagination is enough.
“That about sums up our relationship,” I say and put my spoon down. I flag our waitress and she rushes to our table, tripping over herself to reach us. Her behavior puzzles me, but I’m with Zarah Maddox, heiress to the Maddox fortune, and I shouldn’t have expected less. I order coffee, and the waitress asks if Zarah wants some too.
“Yes, please. And cream, thanks.” She spoons up a bit of brownie and says, “Good idea. I’m sorry you weren’t close to Max. Zane and I weren’t very close either. When Mom and Dad died, he’d only been home from school for six months and he spent all his time with Dad at work.”
The waitress serves our coffee and I wait until she walks away then ask, “Is that why you didn’t tell him Ash started selling you?”
“Ash told me Zane wouldn’t believe anything I said. If Stella and I had talked to him together, maybe we could have convinced him. Maybe. But Ash said he had information that would destroy our company. I believed him and couldn’t take the chance.”
“You don’t think he would helped you? The company wasn’t more important than you.”
Zarah chooses her words carefully, opening a cream pod and stirring it into her coffee. “No, not the company, but their friendship? Zane and Ash went to Columbia together. They were like brothers, closer than brothers.” She flicks a glance at me. “Ash is manipulative, calculating. I don’t know how long he planned what he did, but he could have worked on Zane for years. Brainwashing him. With what you know, do you think he would have believed me even if I would have tried?”
“You’re his sister.”