Figures

Max sensed a ‘but’ coming after she suggested he visit sometimes. And as expected, it came. Her brother probably wouldn’t be very welcoming towards him, something Max could understand. “Don’t worry, I’ve got firsthand experience with overprotective older brothers,” he assured her. Enzo was just like that, always keeping tabs on their four younger sisters. Max figured it must be an exhausting job to do, and therefore he was extremely glad to leave it to Enzo. “I’ll charm my way in.” Probably not, but a guy could dream. Max lifted a brow as she commented that the take-over of Nordshal had been her brother’s choice. He knew that being the head of a family wasn’t easy, but he still couldn’t really bring up any sympathy for firstborns. Everything was meant for them. Second sons were left to pick up the scraps, be married off to the highest bidder. Something that still hadn’t happened for him yet. He eyed her as she finished his whiskey, waiting for a few seconds before opening his mouth again. “Want another one?” He didn’t mind spending more time with her, clearly, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was a great idea to down more than one whiskey in the middle of the day.

Max didn’t have a clear picture of what the Lord of Nordshal was like, but for some reason he was pretty sure that Duncan would not take a liking to him. Still, he was dead set on trying. After all, it was his job to trick people into thinking they enjoyed his company. Up until now, it had worked pretty well with most people. Emilia seemed to enjoy the idea of him meeting her brother, so Max plastered a big grin on his face. “Invite me to Nordshal sometimes and you will.” Maybe it would end up with Max in a casket, but that was a worry for another time.

Daydrinking wasn’t exactly a great habit, especially not when you drank hard liquor. Still, a second one could do no harm, right? Emilia seemed to agree on the matter, as long as he’d behave himself after their second drink. “I’ll try my very best,” he told her with a smile. His behavior didn’t change all that much after a few drinks. If anything, he was just an amplified version of himself. Before he could draw the waiter’s attention, Emilia asked him to tell something about himself. A question that caught him off-guard a little, because what was there to tell? “Well, I come from a pretty big family. I’ve got one brother and four sisters, and I spent most of my time trying to waste their hard-earned money,” he told her in the most casual of tones. “And I’ve never done any dishes in my entire life.” Also very important.

Max showed her a satisfied grin when she repeated his earlier words. Of course, he could visit Nordshal whenever he pleased, but to be invited by the Lord’s sister was something else. It almost made him feel a little special. He was also quite interested in seeing what the city had to offer. Regardless of its curious population, Nordshal was rumored to be quite beautiful. And who wouldn’t want to waste their lives looking at beautiful things?

His life story ended with the informative notion that he’d never did any dishes. Her remark made him smile for a few seconds. He’d consider himself a happy man if he could avoid doing any dishes for the rest of his life. He’d gotten used to luxury, and he didn’t want to lose it. “Maybe we could do some dishes together next time we meet,” he suggested. How was that for a bonding activity? Max raised his brow a little when she criticized him for still working for his family. “Being born into money it is the easy thing,” he told her. “Actually making sure you keep it is the hard part.” The hard part that he was glad to leave to Enzo, and Enzo alone.

Apparently, Nordshal was the land of dirty dishes. He flashed her a smile for a few seconds, before trying to maintain a somewhat serious expression. “Remind me to bring a servant,” he then told her. Because that was how you did dishes the Bourbon way. Have someone else do the dirty work for you. If that wasn’t allowed, he honestly wouldn’t mind cleaning a dish or two. For her. She was good company, after all.

Emilia then asked a question she already knew the answer to. She just wanted to rub it in some more that it was him who was wasting the family’s precious resources. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “I’ll close a couple of deals in Rhoynar and  after that I’ll make it back in no-time.” He sounded confident, because he was. He didn’t doubt his abilities to acquire new accounts for the family business. On the other hand, he didn’t doubt his abilities to waste that money as soon as it came either. “And I’ll win the next horse race. Just you wait.” Optimism was a good quality, as long as it wasn’t misplaced.

Max let out an annoyed sigh when she told him there were no servants allowed. So he was actually supposed to do dishes? With his hands? Impossible. “You might need to show me how to do it first,” he told her, with a crooked grin on his face. He had to keep up the spoilt brat persona for a little while longer. Or maybe it wasn’t an act at all, and he was really just like that.

Max shrugged at her remark, but inside he was ecstatic. Interesting was probably the biggest compliment anyone could’ve given him, because interesting was the polar opposite of ordinary. And he didn’t want to be ordinary, at all. A smirk appeared on his face when she noted that he must be good at his job. “I don’t like to brag,” he lied. He unabashedly told her he’d win the next race, no doubt in his mind. Apparently she’d owe him one if he won, to which he raised an eyebrow. “And I will definitely take you up on that.” He just had to think of something fun to call in her favor for. “Maybe you could do my dishes, then.”

Max looked at her with interest when she told him there were other things to be taught. “And what would those things be?” Of course, Max was adept in everything that was needed from him business-wise, but there was an entire range of simple and mundane tasks he had no idea how to perform. Such as washing dishes. Maybe Emilia could show him his way around ordinary activities. Max tried to think of a few, and then concluded that he would be absolutely helpless in case he would ever need to take care of himself. He didn’t even know how to cook.

Emilia seemed disappointed with his suggestion. Obviously, he wasn’t planning to ask her to do his dishes. He just needed a little more time to come up with something worthwhile. Especially if she was this adamant about keeping to her favors. “When I win, you mean,” he corrected her afterwards. It wasn’t a matter of if “But sure, I’ll think of something interesting.” Perhaps another whiskey would get his imagination up and running. Max called for a waiter and ordered the second round of whiskeys that they’d agreed on earlier, and they were served in no-time.

Max’ eyes lightened up when she mentioned hunting. One corner of his mouth curved upward just a little while he listened to her speak. “Well, actually,” he started, full of self-satisfaction. “I regularly go hunting with my family,” he informed her. It was more for sport than for food, but he enjoyed it. And, honestly, he wasn’t too bad at it either. He knew how to catch, kill, dress, and flay an animal. “So I might survive for two days.” The problem was that he still had no idea how to cook anything. At all.

Emilia was looking forward to it, but he’d make sure she’d regret it later on. “I never disappoint,” he said, trying to sound dead serious but failing. That was a lie. He disappointed his brother on an almost daily basis, but he wouldn’t disappoint her. He took a sip of his whiskey before looking at her again. “How about we meet again next week and attend the race together?” he suggested. “I wouldn’t want you to miss my victory, of course.” He wanted to see her face when the horse he bet on crossed the finish line first.