Page 43 of The Mirage Guild

My eyes widened at his promise. “Oh?”

“We still have a couple of hours before the crowd starts coming into the Prism Society. I’m going to take you home so you can rest before our shift, okay?” Max guided me down the steps and helped me slip my shoes on.

“I think a nap and some snacks will do you good,” he said as we made our way through the bookshelf entrance and into the tavern. I nodded in agreement, the bliss of my orgasm threatening to take me under as I walked.

There were a few construction guys mingling around, wrapping up a few details. It was crazy to me how stepping through that bookcase was like walking into an entirely different world.

It felt like Vegas back there. Without any windows, you lost your sense of time, and I was surprised to see the sun was still out, almost ready to set, once we walked through the door of the tavern.

Max ushered me to his car and started the drive back to my parents’ house. He rested his hand on my thigh as he wove through traffic, and it felt like, just maybe, it was always supposed to be there. Things with Max had never felt awkward or uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep what was going on between us hidden from everyone else. Heck, I wasn’t even sure what was going on between us.

All I knew was that when Max took control, I felt at ease. When he gave me directions, I wanted to listen. I would have never guessed this would be my thing, but with Max, it felt safe. It felt good. When Max spoke his desires to me, they somehow helped my overthinking brain shut off. Every insecurity and over-analyzation seemed to evaporate out of my mind when I allowed myself to trust him.

“Can you walk up the stairs, or do you need help?” Max asked as we pulled up to the house.

I had the front steps and two flights of stairs to tackle. As much as I wanted his help up the stairs, I would have some explaining to do if my parents saw him. Plus, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to send Max away once he was in the room with me.

I’m not going to lie, I love when his focus is solely on me. His touch, his gaze . . . all trained on me. But when he also lets himself unravel and shut out everything else? It’s intoxicating.

“No, I’ve got it,” I said. Max looked doubtful. “I promise,” I added. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Um,” I hesitated, “thank you. For this afternoon.”

Max’s eyes had a twinkle to them when he smiled. “You’re welcome. I like taking care of you.”

I smiled, opened the car door, and began the trek upstairs.

TWENTY

MAX

The past few weeks had been a blur of relentless activity and mounting pressure for me. Between my intense study sessions for the upcoming Advanced Sommelier Exam and the myriad responsibilities at the Mirage Guild, every moment embodied a race against time. My exam, now three days away, had consumed me, my mind constantly replaying wine regions, grape varieties, and tasting notes.

To say I was stressed would be an understatement. The exam was a massive hurdle, but even clearing it meant only a brief respite. Just one week later, the grand opening of the Mirage Guild loomed on the horizon.

The lounge of the club still resembled a work in progress. Furniture lay unboxed, strewn around haphazardly, while some wires dangled ominously from the walls, awaiting the elegant sconces Emma had carefully chosen. The club’s transformation was underway, but there was still so much to be done.

And so I’d been dividing my time between the two clubs. Helping bring one to life and passing over the baton to the new staff at the other. Every day I could feel the flutter of pressure beating in my chest, but I knew only time would ease it.

Isabella, meanwhile, had been engrossed in finalizing the RSVPs for the grand opening. The guest list was a who’s who of the city’s elite, and every detail had to be perfect. I wanted to ensure they would be walking into a club that lived up to its hype and promise.

This afternoon, Izzy and I were at the Mirage Guild. I was engrossed in studying my flashcards and occasionally muttering wine-related terms under my breath. Isabella, on the other hand, was tracing lines on architectural blueprints, mumbling about the arrangement of tables for the grand opening. I felt guilty for all the time my studying was taking out of my schedule. As much as I wished I could fully focus on the excitement of the grand opening, my brain was currently swimming in pop quiz questions.

“That layout looks incredible, Izzy,” I said, leaning in to get a closer look at the blueprints. “Our clients are going to be thrilled with your designs.”

She glanced up, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “You really think so? I was thinking that maybe I could move some of these arrangements around?—”

“Iz,” I cut in, hoping to ground her swirling thoughts. “You’re doing great. The way you’ve envisioned the space, it’s going to bring this place to life. Trust in that.”

A sudden vibration from my phone interrupted my focus. The glow from the screen lit up with a message from my sister: “Hey, Fancy Boy, remember family dinner tonight. You better not be late!”

I let out an exasperated groan, rubbing my temples. “Damn it,” I whispered, having completely forgotten about my familial commitment amidst the chaos of work. I glanced at Isabella, debating internally.

“You okay?” she asked, looking up from where she stood.

I hesitated. “I completely forgot about my family dinner tonight. And I’m nowhere near prepared for it mentally.”

Isabella chuckled. “I take it this is something you can’t skip out on?”

I nodded. “Not a chance. My phone would probably overheat with all the calls and texts my sisters would send my way if I didn’t show.”

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