Coming Home

Chapter 6

"So what happened last night?"

Venice blinked. "You don't remember?"

Max shook his head. "I wouldn't be asking if I do."

How much tequila did he have last night? Venice wondered. He usually remembered bits and pieces from the previous night, so it wasn't necessary for her to fill him in. He must be losing his touch already.

"Well, you passed out at the bar again after you've had too much to drink. The manager called me at three in the morning, and I didn't have a choice but to pick you up."

His brows knitted together. "Why didn't you bring me home?"

"I didn't know your address, sir."

"Then why not a hotel? Why did you have to bring me here?" Her boss looked around, wrinkling his nose in disgust, displeased by her apartment.

She sighed. The conversation was bound to come up. "I couldn't leave you at a random motel, sir."

"A hotel then," he stated.

"I couldn't afford a luxurious hotel, Mr. Smith." Her cheeks burned as soon as the words came out. She should have just dropped him off at a hotel, paid for one night that was worth a week of her salary, and left. She wouldn't have had to deal with him, humiliating herself by admitting she was poor.

"You should have just used my credit card," he uttered.

She gritted her teeth. "I didn't know where your credit card was, sir."

After she'd gone through so much trouble for him, all he could say was why she didn't use his credit card to settle him in a nicer place? Huh. He wasn't even going to apologize for the inconvience he'd caused her. What a jerk.

His phone vibrated inside his pocket, stopping whatever response Max might have.

"Hello?" Silence. "What do you mean? It's Saturday."

Max walked out and into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. She couldn't make out his conversation and decided not to listen further. She didn't bother correcting him. He must still be drunk if he was mistaking Sunday for Saturday.

She heard a flush before Max emerged. He'd run his hands through his hair, sending strands to stand everywhere. He glared at her. "What day is it?"

"It's Sunday, sir."

"Fuck."

"Something wrong?" she asked sweetly.

"It's Sunday," he muttered.

Every Sunday the Smiths held a brunch meeting that her boss must attend every week. Max had never missed out on Sunday brunch, unless he wanted to suffer through his mother's wrath. She was fond of the Smiths even though they'd only met once at the party. They were kind and welcoming, and they made her feel comfortable. Max was lucky to have such a loving family.

He cursed under his breath. "I have to go home and change. I can't miss out on brunch."

She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. "Well, you've got about half-hour to go home and change, Mr. Smith."

"I'm not the only one attending Sunday brunch today, Miss. Zane."

"What do you mean?"

"You're coming with me."

***

This is going to be a disaster, Venice thought as soon as the car stopped in front of the large mansion that set out beyond the sidewalk, towering over her as if to intimidate her. The cream-colored painting shone as the sun beat down on it, causing her to place a hand over her forehead and squint. The hedges were neatly trimmed as it surrounded the house, the roof was peaked and slanted in a downward angle. The windows were covered in royal blue curtains as it hung down on one side so sunlight streamed through the surface.

Max stepped onto the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to step out of the sleek, black car. Her hands were linked in her lap, sweat covering her palms. She'd protested when he announced she was coming with him. It felt too personal to be with his family, to share their tradition with an intruder. His family would surely mind if they see her.

She hopped out and followed her boss to the doorstep, studying him. He wore a white, tight button-up shirt, strong muscular thighs in a pair of light-washed denim jeans. This was the first time she'd seen him in casual clothes other than his usual three-piece suit. And when he'd come to pick her up, he'd ran his gaze over her, eyes shining in approval.

She'd picked a sleeveless floral dress that came about to her knees. Her long hair loose and cascaded down her back, light make-up highlighting her features. She hadn't known what to wear so she settled for something simpler, nothing too outstanding since she'd never attended a family brunch before.

Max pressed the doorbell as she heard it ring throughout the whole house. The tall, black gate swung close behind them, its hinges creaking in protest. A short, frump woman greeted them at the door, smiling warmly as they were ushered inside.

Venice stole a glance around the place before she was stepping back, wanting to make a dash for it. "Where do you think you're going?" She froze at the sound of his voice.

She swallowed back the nausea rising within her. "I should go. I don't belong here, Mr. Smith. And I'm sure your family won't appreciate me coming without an invitation."

"You're not going anywhere," he answered before he yanked her to his side, trapping her to him.

The black and white linoleum floor glowed from cleanliness. A doorway was on either side of the room that led to the kitchen and the living room. Muffled sounds came from the kitchen as if the chef and maid were bickering over the dishes. Then a familiar face met her, smiling when Caleb waved at her direction.

He beamed as he walked directly to her, catching her hand in his and giving it a chaste kiss. "I'm glad you made it."

"Thank you for having me," she answered politely.

Max snorted beside her. "She didn't even want to come here in the first place."

"I feel like I'm intruding," she responded honestly.

Caleb shook his head. "You're always welcome in our family, Venice. My parents were meant to invite you over today for brunch. But my brother here have taken it upon himself to bring you along so that saves us time. Come on. Everyone's waiting for you."

She glanced at her boss quizically whom only shrugged in return. His younger brother led them to the large, wooden Gazebo where a dining table was set in the middle, the chairs pulled in as the rest of Smiths waited. They turned at the sound of feet approaching, Eunice turned and gleamed.

The young woman threw herself at Venice, catching her completely off-guard. "You're here!"

Venice laughed and returned the enthusiastic gesture. "It's nice to see you again, Eunice."

"I thought you weren't coming today," Eunice said after she pulled back to fix her dress.

"Your brother gave me no choice."

Eunice glared at her older brother. "You dragged her here without telling her?"

Max waved a hand in front of him in dismissal. "She knew about the Sunday brunch, sis. It was best to bring her with me since I still have a terrible hang-over."

"I told you not to drink last night." Janine interjected as the older woman appeared in front of Venice, enveloping her into a quick hug.

"I only had a couple shots of tequila," her boss grumbled.

"You made it to the headlines of the tabloids again," his mother chastised. "There was a picture of you and that supermodel last night, alone and drinking at the bar of the afterparty."

"You know those things can't be help, mom."

Janine rolled her eyes as if she found her son's excuse ridiculous. Venice studied the older woman. Her hair was tied into a bun at her nape, face free of make-up as her eyes so-like her children roamed over the table.

"Aren't Richard and his family coming, Mr. Smith?" she whispered to Max after they were seated.

"Oh, they're coming, all right. Richard and his family are always the late ones to come. We're used to it though, so we usually just start without them." Max frowned at her. "Haven't we established the use of our first names?"

Her cheeks turned red. "I'm just not used to calling you Max." At least not out loud.

Max leaned in, his nose brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered, "Well, get used to it, Venice. I have a feeling we'll spend a long time together."

She shuddered. Damn it. Why did he have to lean into her like that? Her skin was still tingling after they'd settled into the table and the food were served. His thigh brushed accidentally against hers, causing her to jerk in her seat. She froze, her fork halfway to her lips. Her boss turned his head, their gaze clashing. A silent rush of electricity ran down her spine, her n*****s tightening behind the cups of her bra.

She broke eye contact, shocked by her body response. She couldn't be attracted to him. She'd done her best not to. She had her number one rule; never get involved with Maxwell Smith no matter what. Whatever she felt for him had to end now. Right now as she had brunch with his family, next to him.

She willed for her body to forget him, to focus on important things but her mind wouldn't leave him. Her knees were still trembling beside his, totally unaware of how she'd reacted to a simple touch.

Richard and his family came shortly after the second dish was served. The children gave their grandparents a kiss on the cheek before settling down. Richard sat opposite her, smiling at her in greetings. It was only after the conversation picked up that Venice wondered why everyone wasn't surprised by her sudden appearance. It felt as though she'd been invited personally by his parents to join them instead of showing unannounced.

Max had never asked her to go to any of his family gatherings before. Having asked to go with him at the gala had stunned her, but she'd gotten over it because he needed a date. Although, he'd ended up talking to Shirley the whole night and made her wish he'd asked the supermodel instead. She didn't understand his abrupt intrigue in having her around. Venice couldn't help but feel anxious, as if the Smiths were hiding something from her.

She vanished the thought from her mind. They were just being courteous and solicitous to her. She needn't put any meaning behind their kindness. This is nice, she wondered as she looked around, laughing at Caleb's joke. She hardly remembered the last time she'd sat down, dined with family and enjoyed their company. Ever since her aunt had passed away, she was left to eat alone and had long lost the enjoyment of food.

"You've gone quiet," Caleb observed.

Venice looked up at him in surprise and smiled. "I'm just lost in thought, I guess."

"We must be boring you out," the younger man said.

She shook her head vigorously. "Of course not! I'm just thinking about the laundry I left back home." Then blushed at how badly she'd sounded. "I'm sorry. That wasn't meant to come out of my mouth."

Everyone laughed and her ears heated in embarrassment. Even her boss had reached out, squeezed her knee, chuckling before dessert came. The spot he'd touched warmed and she couldn't help but glance at him again. He had his head thrown back, laughing at his younger brother's joke. A smile touched her lips. This was the second time she'd seen him relaxed, and laid-back.

Though, she couldn't help but compare his attitude whenever he was around her; uptight and held himself back. She wanted him like this every time they were together. But who was she kidding? Max would never see her as anything other than his secretary.

Suddenly, his father focused his attention on her and Max. "So when do the both of you plan to marry?"