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motionless just having made a deal with the devil. “Where should I meet you tonight?” She stated in a business like tone.
    “We’re not meeting anywhere. I’ll pick you up, and I’m not taking no for answer. Just be ready tonight at 8 pm. You can handle that request without tossing an insult, right?”
    She turned her nose up. He had already baited her too many times, she didn’t have the energy to go toe-to-toe with him again. “Fine,” she stated, tossing her hand in the air in a dismissive manner. He quickly handed her his business card. She didn’t provide hers.
    Then Kaya walked away.
    Max drank her in until she vanished into the dense crowd. He stood there immobile, reeling in shock from the day’s events. When he woke up that morning he would have never guessed that Kaya Hanson would have tumbled back into his life. And now that she was there, how was he going to let her go again?
    ***
    Kaya’s text message came shortly after 7 pm. It was short and to the point. I’m sick. I can’t come tonight. We can have coffee in the car before the gala, so I fulfill my end of the deal. Night.
    Sick his ass.
    Max wasn’t in the mood for games he had specifically told her that he would be picking her up at 8 pm and now she was rearranging everything without even a phone call. Didn’t she realize he was having a fucking bad day too, but the main difference was he was being cordial and pleasant, she wasn’t. And to make matters worse, they had a verbal arrangement, and she was deliberately breaking their deal. Visibly annoyed, he let out a distressful sigh and sent her a quick generic response. Then he grabbed his suit jacket and headed out of his office. About thirty minutes later, he opened the front door of her Brooklyn apartment building and headed up three flights of stairs. If she wasn’t going to have dinner with him, he was going to find out why, and it wasn’t going to be done via text.
    He knocked hard on her rickety door.
    “Who is it?” she huffed swinging the door open. Kaya gasped the moment she recognized Max’s tall, dark and handsome frame standing outside her apartment. She helplessly drank in his gorgeousness and brushed it off quickly. “How in the hell did you find me? You can’t just pop up to someone’s house unannounced.”
    “I thought you were sick,” he stated mockingly, observing the bottle of wine in her hand. Max ran his hand across his face, trying to temper the anger that was brewing up in his system. He walked towards her, but she pushed him back, and closed her apartment door behind them. She wasn’t going to allow him in her personal space.
    “Why are you here?”
    “Why did you lie?” he stated eyeing each delicious part of her round breasts. His ego and manhood were both suffering, as he searched her blood shot eyes for an explanation. He could tell she had been crying, and the realization tore into him unexpectedly.
    “Go home Max, I don’t owe you an explanation. I told you I wasn’t feeling well and that’s the end of it.” She pointed her finger towards the staircase and lowered her gaze, afraid he had already seen too much of her vulnerability.
    Kaya had sobbed nonstop since she had left Grand Central Station, replaying the day’s events in her mind countless times. Years ago, she had partially come to terms with his rejection and washed the memories from her mind. But now that he was back, up close and personal, she was forced to relive the past again.
    “May, we speak for just a few minutes?” He asked.
    “Fine, you have two minutes,” she snapped. He could tell she wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, just business. But business was the last thing he had on his mind.
    “First of all, I wasn’t stalking you. I received all your information earlier when I had my assistant pull together an entire file on Brooklyn Cares. I don’t donate funds without pertinent information on the company I am providing money to, that includes employees.” He