Who Gets To Marry Max?. Neesa Hart

consider relinquishing control to any of us.”

      Thoughtfully, Sidney studied Greg’s handsome features. “Have you asked him?”

      Greg shook his head as he finished his glass of champagne. “No need. What Max wants is to see all of us safely settled in nice, stable marriages. Natalie and Colleen succumbed without a fight. I like to give Max a challenge every now and then.” He leaned closer to her and dropped his voice several decibels. “It builds character, you know?” He’d raised his hand, then, to cup her shoulder. “And speaking of characters, why have you been hiding from us, Sidney? I miss having you around here.”

      His fingers slid over the fabric of her jacket. Sidney took a careful step away. “I work for a living, Greg.”

      His amused laugh carried on the night breeze. “Unlike me, you mean?”

      She shook her head. “No. I just mean that I have a lot of responsibilities with my business. I don’t have as much time to visit with Uncle Philip as I used to.”

      Greg’s hazel eyes searched her face. “Do you have time for other things?”

      She sensed the suggestive undertone in the question, and carefully headed it off. “Not really.” She set her water glass down with a decisive clink. “It’s been nice talking with you, Greg, but I think I should call it a night. The party’s winding down, and Max seems to think I might be needed early tomorrow morning. He’s probably right.”

      “Ah, Max,” Greg said. “He’s always right, isn’t he?”

      Sidney chose not to answer. “Good night, Greg.”

      He had hesitated, then gave her a brief nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      Now, as Sidney glanced around the pool deck, she carefully considered the note she’d received from Max that morning requesting her presence. How much, she had to wonder, did he know about her conversation with his brother, and how much would he want to know? She pushed aside the unsettling thought and told herself, for the umpteenth time that morning, to get a grip. It wasn’t working. When she’d spoken to her uncle, he’d assured her that he was much better—so much better that he’d encouraged her not to make the trip out to see him that morning. Reluctantly, if not gracefully, Sidney had agreed.

      Fool, fool, fool, she now thought as she looked at Max. She could have used the break, and the chance to think things over. Clad in black swim trunks, he looked—she searched for the word Kelly had used the night before—dishy. That was it. Kelly had informed her that Max’s advertising gurus used the word to describe the Max doll and his supposed effect on the female doll population. At the time, Sidney had thought the word a corny advertising gimmick. Now, she merely found it inadequate.

      Max Loden wasn’t merely dishy, he was devastating. Well, he was devastating her, anyway. Except for the barely veiled looks of Constance Barlow, the same woman Sidney had observed clinging to Max’s arm during last night’s party, no one else at poolside seemed to realize they were in the presence of Adonis.

      Suddenly, as if he sensed her scrutiny, Max turned to meet her gaze. Embarrassed that he’d caught her watching him, she struggled not to look away. He watched her for long seconds, then tilted his head in an invitation to join him.

      Sidney glanced around the deck once more, before she threaded her way through the clutter of lounge chairs to stand near Max’s shoulder. “Did you need something?” she asked him.

      “Watch me, Uncle Max,” his seven-year-old niece urged.

      “I’m watching, Bailey,” he assured her. He remained steadily focused as the child bent nearly in two, then tumbled into the water. She surfaced with a broad grin. “Did I get it right?”

      Max nodded. “Absolutely. You can work on keeping your feet pointed if you want to go in with less splash. Otherwise, it’s perfect.”

      “Does splash count?”

      “Only in the Olympics.”

      “Good divers don’t splash?”

      Max shook his head. “Nope.”

      “Okay. I’ll try.” Bailey swam toward him. “But can I try the diving board even if I splash?”

      “You have to ask your mother.”

      Bailey frowned. “She won’t let me.”

      Max plucked her from the pool and seated her on the deck next to him. “I’ll tell her I taught you how to dive. Then you can ask her.”

      He earned a toothless grin. “Thanks, Uncle Max.” The child turned inquisitive eyes to Sidney. “Who is that lady?”

      Max still didn’t look at her. “A friend of mine.”

      “A good friend?”

      He paused. “Yes.”

      Bailey studied her. “I’m Bailey.”

      Sidney smiled. “I’m Sidney.”

      Bailey watched her with open curiosity. “How come you aren’t wearing a swimsuit?”

      “Because I’m not here to swim. I’m here to work.”

      “Oh. Like Uncle Max.”

      “He’s swimming,” Sidney pointed out.

      Bailey jumped up and reached for a towel. “Only for me. He promised to teach me how to dive so I could use the diving board. He woulda worked instead if he hadn’t promised.”

      As Bailey vigorously dried her mop of red curls, Max finally turned to look at Sidney. His eyes gleamed in the morning light—like a predator’s, she thought. “Good morning,” he said quietly.

      “Good morning.” She plucked a piece of paper from her trouser pocket. “I got your note. You wanted to see me about something?”

      “It wasn’t a summons.”

      “It sounded like it.”

      Max frowned. “I didn’t mean—”

      “Uncle Max?” Bailey tapped him on the shoulder.

      His frown deepened before he looked at his niece. “What, Sprout?”

      “When are you gonna tell Mama?”

      “This morning.”

      Bailey’s gaze slid to Sidney. “Promise?”

      “I promise,” he said.

      “You might get distracted.”

      Max rolled his eyes. “I will not get distracted.”

      Bailey continued looking at Sidney. “Uncle Greg would.”

      “I’m not your uncle Greg.”

      “No.” Bailey shook her head, then shrugged. “I want to dive off the board this afternoon. I told Kristina we would.”

      “This morning,” Max said again, giving his niece a gentle shove. “I’ll take care of it.”

      “Okay.”

      “Now say goodbye.”

      Bailey grinned at Sidney. “Nice to meet you, Sidney.”

      Max ruffled her curls. “It’s Miss Grant.”

      “But she said—”

      “It’s Miss Grant.”

      Sidney held up a hand, “Max, really—”

      He shook his head. “Bailey?”

      Bailey capitulated. “Nice to meet you, Miss Grant.”

      Max and Sidney watched as the child hurried off across the deck. “She’s a great kid,” Sidney said.

      “Natalie is a great mother.” Max pinned