Chapter Two
“You can’t be serious,” Roger shook his head at him. “You want to cut yourself out of the McC Studios partnership? Just…leave with nothing?”
“I don’t want anything from my father,” Max told his lawyer. “You represent us both, but there shouldn’t be any conflict of interest since I don’t want a dime from him. He and my grandpa can just take me out of it and split it between them. Whatever they need to do, I don’t care.”
Roger pursed his lips. There was a vein in his temple that was pulsing just a bit more than usual.
“What are you not telling me?” Max leaned across the desk with a stern expression. “Roger? Spit it out. You’re my fucking lawyer, you can’t keep shit from me.”
“I can because it doesn’t have to do with you,” he answered simply, lacing his fingers together on the desk between them. “But…it’s not something you’re going to like.”
“Just tell me.”
“I can’t.”
Max took a deep breath to compose himself. His father had created some kind of loophole or legal addendum to fuck him over, right? That was so like his dad, going behind people’s backs to protect his own interests.
“Can you at least give me a hint?” Max asked impatiently, his jaw clenched. “Some idea of what I need to prepare for?”
Roger sighed and cast him a level gaze. “If I manipulated my words to clue you in on your father’s private business, how could you trust me not to do that to you as well? I’m being professional here, Max. I work for you, but I also can’t give you classified information about someone else.”
As much as it sucked, Max understood. It wasn’t easy to trust anyone who worked for Craig McCallan, but Roger Eichs had always been fair and upfront with him. Unfortunately, if he was going to sever his ties with his father, he needed to let his lawyer go as well.
Max stood and somberly stated, “Regretfully… I can’t have you represent me anymore. I’m sorry. Thank you for all you’ve done for me, though. I respect you and your work, and hope this doesn’t end on a negative note between us.”
Roger dejectedly nodded his head as he stood and held out his hand in a friendly manner. “I understand, Max.” They shook. “And I wish you the best, I truly do. I’m sorry it’s had to come to this, but I admire and respect you as well. Best of luck.”
As Max left his office, he paused in the hallway. He’d shut one more door on his life but didn’t feel anything good or bad from it. How the hell was he supposed to go through life not knowing if his decisions were the right ones? How long was he supposed to wait for some sort of contentment with his life, business or otherwise?
Whether he’d done the right thing or not, he now needed to find new legal representation. But as he left the building that day, he couldn’t stop thinking about what his father could have up his sleeve. He knew the man covered all his bases, which is why the bastard was always so smug against threats. Craig had assumed Max was bluffing when he first told him he wanted to go out on his own, but he’d most likely made a few strategic moves to fuck that up just in case.
Max pulled out his phone and scrolled until he found the contact he was looking for. If anyone could find the information he needed, it was this guy.
“Hey man, what’s going on?” Cole answered the call.
“Hey, uh… Well, I’d say ‘not a lot’ like usual but… I need to hire you.”
There was a brief pause. “Okay, sure, anything you need. What’s up?”
Max explained what was going on, glad his friend knew quite a bit about his life as it was. Cole had lived in California for several years and hung out with him and Teague when they were younger. He’d always been kind of a mysterious character, though. Max never knew anything about his past or if he even had any parents growing up. Cole had just always had their back, somewhat of a bodyguard in some random situations. He’d moved back to Jersey for a bit, but he and his wife were now residents again, just outside of L.A.
“Hmm, okay,” Cole finally said after listening in silence. “I’ll let you know when I find out.”
“When you find out. You’re such an arrogant prick.”
Cole laughed. “Hey, not gonna deny I’m good at what I do. But let me get a jump on it right away while I don’t have anything pressing right now. Give me the name of your lawyer—eh, the one you just fired—and we’ll get it figured out.”
Max spoke to him for another minute before they hung up, and when they did, he wasn’t sure if he felt relief or more worry. He knew he could count on Cole to find the truth, but what would it consist of?
Only time would tell, and patience was not Max’s strong suit.
***
“I haven’t been able to get a hold of you,” an exasperated Jillian exclaimed the second Max entered the mansion. It was his personal assistant’s way of asking where the hell he’d been since he’d gone cell phone silent, but he knew she’d never dare ask such a thing. “You’ve got a seven p.m. dinner with the executives at Paramount tomorrow evening. I rescheduled your meeting with Yvonne Clyson for next Thursday. She was being nosy and asked why but—”
“Hold on,” Max interrupted. “I asked you to cancel it, not reschedule it. I’m not taking that part, so there’s no reason for me to meet with Yvonne.”
“But your father said—”
“I don’t care what my father said. I want it canceled. You can tell her I’m not interested in the movie at this time.”
“And if she persists?”
“Tell her I’m dying.”
Jillian paused wide-eyed, like she actually believed him.
“For God’s sake, I’m not dying,” he sighed. “But if you have to hang up on her, then do it. That’s how much I care, okay?”
She nodded submissively. “Yes, sir.”
He walked through the house until he entered his private office. Jillian was right behind him and placed a folder on his desk as he sat down.
“Grover was here,” she informed him. “He wants you to attend two of these events this month, so if you could look them over and mark which two, I’ll put them on your calendar. He also brought over two suits for you from Audra Malloy—they are gifts to you—for her Fashion Zone VIP party. That’s next weekend, if you forgot.”
Max hid his displeasure to both pieces of news as he indifferently flipped open the folder and perused through his choices. A charity gala here, a speaking engagement there, two movie premieres for films he didn’t care about, and a few ass-kissing high society social events. “He’s kidding, right?”
“Well…I don’t think so. He seemed a little mad, too.”
Max shut the folder and slid it out of his sight. “Because I’m making his job impossible,” he murmured.
He didn’t want a fucking image consultant telling him what he should and shouldn’t do; he’d been less than compliant lately. Grover was the best at his job, and so was the rest of the public relations team that worked relentlessly for the McCallans, but it just didn’t fit Max’s life right now.
“If that’s all, Jillian, you can head home.” He opened his laptop and typed in his password. As his homepage loaded, he noticed Jillian had not moved. Glancing up, he asked, “Was there something else?”
She paused as Gretchen entered and set a mug of hot tea on the desk. The house manager left as quietly as she’d come in.
“Well,” Jillian finally began. “You’re supposed to bring a date to the Fashion Zone party. The last few times I’ve asked…”
Yes, the last few times she’d asked who he wanted her to send an invite to, he’d been a bit pissy about it. His father always voiced his own opinions, and Jillian was only doing her job by passing it along, but it got tiresome.
“Grover suggested Sophia Nixon,” she added. “She just got cast in that new James Young movie so it would be double exposure for you both.”
Max automatically objected. Sophia was his cousin’s old hookup. Nope, wasn’t going there.
“Your father mentioned Thalia Gerard or Savannah Roseberg.”
“No to both.”
She cleared her throat. “What about Joelle Martin?”
Max dabbled with that idea for a moment but shook his head. “I’ll think about it. Let it be a surprise. Have a good night, Jillian.”
“You too, sir.”
She left, closing the door behind her.
Max exhaled, trying to relieve himself of the tension he’d been fighting since returning home. He clicked open the work he’d planned on diving into, even shutting his phone off for the rest of the night.
The world could cut him some slack right now.