I set my glass down as I notice the obvious shift in his expression. Gone is that boyish, sexy smirk that makes me feel like a schoolgirl. In an instant, Max has transformed into that powerful, smoldering CEO who makes me feel terrified in the best way possible. It’s an odd thing for me to be so attracted to, considering my past.
Max’s voice is guttural when he adds, “I wouldn’t have achieved a thing in my life if it weren’t for the constant support of my family, friends, and staff. Hell, I don’t even know when my next dentist appointment is. Marcia has to tell me. Bettina runs my home. Michael does all the cooking. I pay a lot of people to help me with many things. It takes structure and order for me to thrive and achieve this balance.”
I nod slowly, insecurity spreading through my body because I tried to do what Max is doing and failed…miserably. Once upon a time, I had big dreams and huge ambitions. I thrived off the buzz of being busy because I thought I was destined to be someone important.
If only I’d done better and been capable of more.
“What are you thinking about?” Max asks, doing that mind reading thing again. Though this time, I’m certain my nose isn’t red.
“I wasn’t always like this,” I offer softly, feeling my chin tremble as I reach out and pick up my wineglass for a fortifying drink, trying not to let my hands shake.
“Not always like what?”
“Miss Willy-Nilly,” I reply with a laugh and exhale heavily as nerves swirl in my belly. “Miss Why Do More When You Can Do Less.”
I wave my hands out like a circus monkey, but Max doesn’t laugh like I think he’s going to. He just watches me quietly, waiting for me to continue.
I don’t know why I feel compelled to tell him all this now. We’re having such a nice time, and this will certainly overshadow the Cinderella vibe of the day. But it feels important somehow. I want Max to understand how I became who I am. Especially if we’re going to have a chance at truly being together.
I take one more tremulous drink of my wine, using my left hand to ensure myself that I am okay now. I am healed. I feel Max’s eyes on me the entire time as I steel myself to say, “You know how I told you originally that I worked on those charcuterie boards as a form of therapy?”
“Yes,” Max answers, his brow furrowed curiously.
“Well, I let you believe that it was mental therapy, but in reality, it was physical therapy.” My heart pounds at the memory of those awful couple of months when my body didn’t feel like my body. It was like an alien had taken over my left hand and would do whatever it wanted instead of what I wanted. It took nearly three months for me to get it to a place where I could feel secure in its movements. I inhale a deep breath before stating the truth out loud, “I had a stress-induced stroke at Christmas time last year that paralyzed my left arm.”
“Are you serious, Cassandra?” Max snaps, shoving his wine aside and leaning across the table. His eyes are the most severe I’ve ever seen them, and I feel slightly terrified at the reality of my truth being displayed back to me. “An actual stroke?”
I nod and force myself not to cry. “It’s rare at my age, but it can happen. It happened at my corporate job that I mentioned to you.”
His eyes swim with fear as he watches me, barely even taking a breath as he inquires, “Jesus Christ, what happened?”
“Stress,” I respond with a garbled laugh that feels pathetic. “Loads and loads of stress.”
“What did you do at your last job? What was your position?” Max asks, his face taut with shock.
I sigh heavily, feeling horrified at the thought of recounting everything but knowing that he needs to hear it all to get the big picture. I inhale deeply and force myself to be professional. “I was in asset management, managing a large portfolio of industrial and commercial buildings scattered throughout the United States. I started right out of college, so I was only nineteen in the beginning, but I was twenty-five when I finally hit my breaking point, so I had been there for six years.”
Max nods knowingly, likely very familiar with the corporate hustle and bustle. He has a company jet after all, something I would have appreciated instead of taking commercial flights four out of seven days a week every single week.
“When I originally started with the company, it was new and very entrepreneurial. Everyone wore a lot of hats. I was always someone who picked things up quickly, so I was given a lot of responsibilities that I was never really qualified for, but I liked it. It forced me to learn and grow quickly, which felt good at the time because I was so young. Plus, I’ve always liked a challenge, like you.”