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"If you're worrying about Brutus, don't bother.

" Her friend began as soon as she answered.

"He's been running me ragged and is just what I need to get the extra pounds off.

" Her friend had 'borrowed' Brutus for a week, claiming that with the dog being so hyperactive, it was a sure way for her to get some much-needed exercise in and burn off the fat she had accumulated over the past two weeks.

"I'm sure Brutus is fine."

"Honey, you sound distracted. What's wrong? Or should I guess?"

"Are you free for lunch?" Maxie glanced at her schedule quickly and winced. "I can probably find thirty minutes of free time."

"Meet me at Lorraine's. I have a hankering for some lobster cappuccino."

Maxie did not bother to remind her that she was supposed to be dieting.

"Wonderful. Let me get through these paperwork and make some calls and I'll be on my way."

Sitting back in the chair, she stared at the phone.

He had not called. Of course, she did not expect him to.

She had told him she needed time, and he was letting her have it.

Should she call him? She started to reach for the phone and then pulled back.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up gratefully as Marge stood there framed inside the doorway, obviously needing her attention.

"God, that hits the spot." Yvette sighed and stretched -- golden-brown eyes taking in the lunch crowd. "I see Iona is back in town." A spiteful smile curved her lips as she stared at the thin, emaciated looking former model across the room.

"You're staring and that's incredibly rude."

"She's the bitch who almost cost me my job. I'm going to stare holes into her until she feels it and turns around to notice me."

Pushing away her half-eaten salad, Maxie touched her hand briefly, bringing the girl's attention back to her.

"Oh, sorry." Yvette muttered with a grin. "Man, crisis in the making. What has he done now?"

"He wants me to move in with him."

"That bastard. I hope you told him where to get off."

Shooting her friend a pained look, she picked up her glass and took a sip of the sparkling water. "He said he loved me, but asked me to move in. It's sending mixed signals."

Yvette eyed her speculatively as she sipped her glass of Perrier. "You want marriage."

"Of course I do." Maxie waved an impatient hand. "I might sound old-fashioned, but the idea of living with a man without the permanency is something I never thought of doing."

"Especially if that man is Kai Tanaka. Honey, you have been doodling both your names in various notebooks since high school."

"How did you--" She sighed dramatically. "You found one of them when you were at the sleepover a few years ago."

"And I think it's so sweet." Her friend grinned at her.

"I spent so many years dreaming of becoming his wife, that it became a part of my entire life. Why on earth would he say he loves me and then follow it up by asking me to move in with him?" She wondered.

"He might not be ready for such a commitment but cannot bear the thought of living apart from you." Yvette realized her friend was staring into her water with a distracted expression.

"Have you heard a word I just said?"

"I'm sorry," Maxie said, shaking herself out of her reverie. "It's just... what if I've misunderstood him? What if asking me to move in is his way of saying he's serious about us? That he sees this as leading to something more?"

Yvette raised an eyebrow. "And what if it isn't? What if this is all he's willing to offer?"

The bluntness of her friend's words stung, but Maxie knew Yvette had a point. She had never been one to settle, and even the thought of compromising on something as deeply rooted as her dream of marriage felt like surrendering a part of herself.

As if sensing the turmoil swirling in her mind, Yvette softened her tone. "Honey, you have to decide what you want. Not just from Kai, but for yourself. And don't let fear of losing him make you choose something that doesn't feel right."

Maxie nodded, grateful for the advice, even if it complicated the matter further. The waitress arrived, clearing their plates and leaving behind a small bowl of fresh strawberries and cream. Maxie smiled faintly, the simple dessert reminding her of lighter times.

"I'll think about it," she said finally, her voice steady despite the storm brewing within. "He deserves an answer -- and I need to figure out what mine will be."

Fury carried him through the morning and the rest of the day. He had been tempted several times to turn around. Return to her place and demand that she come back home with him. Throw some things into a case and force her to do his bidding.

But that would not be the way. He wanted her to want to live with him.

He damn well wanted her to tell him what was in her bloody heart.

He could not help but notice with bitter clarity that the tide had turned.

He was the one practically begging her to be with him.

And could not help but wonder if this was some sort of twisted sick revenge on her part?

Was she paying him back for hurting her?

And if that was the case, could he blame her?

Dammit all to hell! He wanted her at his side.

Then why hadn't he offered her marriage? The sneaky voice of his conscience slid insidiously inside his head.

He had an explanation for that, didn't he? He wanted them to get used to the idea of sharing the same space before taking the plunge.

Taking the plunge? The bloody voice would not shut up! You make it sound like something to fear.

No! Or was it? He wondered. Why was he so afraid of commitment? Was it because of his family? They had drummed it into his head for so many years that it was lodged in deep. Wasn't that the reason he had left her without a backward look ten years ago?

The fact that they would never have approved of her?

Pushing aside the contract he had been perusing, he stared moodily across the room, a frown pleating his brow.

What had started out for him so long ago, as a challenge to get her in bed, had taken a turn.

The laugh was on him. He had been so damned cocky, so sure of himself.

The whispers about her from the boys who had tried to get within an inch of her and had failed.

That had fueled his determination to succeed where they had fallen short.

Her air of aloofness, the haughtiness on her spectacular face had made him more determined to storm that barricade.

Little did he know that in doing so, he was going to be introduced to a lifetime of love that had only gotten stronger.

Shoving to his feet, he went to get a cup of coffee.

He had marched out of her place, allowing anger to push him along.

And had fed that anger all the way to his apartment, which had suddenly become like a damn prison.

Taking the cup with him, he leaned on the edge of the desk and let his eyes scan the room.

He had inherited the company from his father and taken up the reins.

He had stepped into some very big shoes, shoved into it more likely.

The mantle had been thrown on his shoulders when he was too young to realize what the hell was going on.

He had been forced to prove himself. And given a timeline to do so.

There had been times when he was so terrified of failing that he had curled up in one corner of the room and closed his eyes. Times when he wished his father were alive so that his world would not be so complicated. That he would be able to do as he pleased. Be with whom he pleased.

Circling the desk, he sat back down, nursing his cup of coffee.

He leaned back in his chair with a weary sigh, the papers before him blurring into an indistinct haze.

The sense of control he usually wielded with ease now felt like a distant memory.

For the first time, he acknowledged the quiet terror lurking in the corners of his mind -- a fear not just of her rejection, but of exposing his own vulnerabilities.

What if she saw his flaws too clearly and decided she couldn't bear them?

The thought struck like a lash, and he clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms. He had always prided himself on his strength, his unshakable resolve. But here he was, teetering on the edge of something he didn't entirely understand, much less know how to navigate.

And God help him, he didn't even know if he was more afraid of losing her or of keeping her and failing in the process.

Meanwhile, Maxie sat in her office, the faint strains of soft music playing in the background.

The strawberries and cream sat half-finished on the desk as her thoughts wandered to him.

She had felt his absence all day like a shadow hovering over her, darker and colder than she expected.

Despite her determination to find clarity, she found herself replaying their moments together, dissecting his words and actions, searching for some sign of what he truly wanted.

But the question that loomed largest wasn't about him -- it was about her. What did she truly want? Could she let go of the past, the pain, and trust him again? More importantly, could she trust herself to embrace what they might become without fear of inevitable collapse?

The weight of it pressed down on her, yet there was a flicker of hope, faint but persistent.

Maybe, just maybe, they could find their way forward.

But it would require both of them to face the truths they had long avoided.

He still hadn't called, and she suspected he was waiting on her to make the first move.

Sighing dejectedly, she pressed a hand over her chest and whispered his name. It was so damn complicated! And worse, she was going to disappoint a very sweet and gentle man, one she should never have gone out with in the first place.