The annoying charisma of Max Brown (Now published so sample size only)

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The mortification of that night plagued me for the next couple of weeks. I avoided anyone who came to my door, and that included Carly. I'd taken to locking my door at night so she couldn't try a sneak attack on me.

"Dawn, you've got to come out of your room at some point." Carly tapped on my door for the hundredth time but I refused to answer.

It was so darn easy to avoid my sister and she didn't even realise. I worked afternoons and nights at the restaurant while she went to class all morning. The weekend, as now, was the only time she could ambush me. I had my plan of attack at the ready so I could get past her unscathed.

Shoving my glasses higher onto my nose, I firmed my face into its most determined. Grabbing my handbag, I strode for my bedroom door with the fakest confidence that I could possess.

"Would love to talk, Carly, but I have to get to work." I breezed past my sister and pulled my door shut behind me.

"Dawn, c'mon sis, you can't keep hiding." Carly pleaded with me but I ignored her.

Rounding the corner to see Ry smirking at me from the soiled couch that I no longer sat on, made me grimace. Sometimes it annoyed me that I had to walk through the lounge room to leave the apartment. I glared at Ry before marching out of the door.

The stairwell that greeted me contained the very man who I had hoped to never see again, Max Brown. I couldn't help him from living in my fantasies, but in reality I wanted to hate him.

Knowing I had to walk past him down that narrow stairwell made my heart start to thunder. Ignoring his presence took more effort than I liked, which infuriated me.

"Dawn, there you are. Can I give you a lift somewhere?" Max sounded so pleased but his laughter echoed in my head.

I didn't say a word to him as I continued storming down the stairs. I refused to even acknowledge his existence, until his fingers touched my arm.

"Get your hands off me now!" I snapped.

"You need to let me say something first." He insisted.

"No, I don't." I yanked my arm from his grip and with wobblier steps, I kept walking.

"You looked so damn cute and flustered, Honey Bee, and I couldn't help but laugh, okay. It didn't mean anything and I sure as hell didn't want to upset you."

I never heard anymore of his words because I walked out of the door and slammed it hard. He didn't get it and he sure as hell didn't get me. As much as I wanted him to run after me pleading his case, he didn't, and that left me disappointed. Why couldn't I hate the idiot?

In the middle of my shift, with my mind still flailing from my brief interlude with Max, everything turned upside down. The three times I'd met Max, I'd seen him naked, which I couldn't forget, and in nice casual clothes. He swaggered into the restaurant I worked in dressed in a suit and I'm sure everybody stared. I sure did. He stole my breath with how darn perfect he looked. Debonair, suave and too handsome for his own good were the only words I could use to describe Max Brown in a suit and tie.

Yes, there is a dress code at my workplace. Men can be in nothing less than a suit while women tended to wear their best finery with gorgeous dresses and the highest heels.

It's an upperclass restaurant, where you think men wouldn't smack you on the butt, but they do. If there are no women around to keep them in line, the men turn into groping pigs.

The bar area where I work remains separate to the restaurant. I still serve the drinks in the restaurant but patrons can choose to just sit at the bar. That becomes troublesome for me because men who have money seem to think they can do what they want to the bar staff.