Sex and the Billionaire Crime Boss - Season 2

Ch. 24: Stirring Up Trouble

I've made a surprising amount of progress so far this week on the contracts for Max's art gallery, and it's only Wednesday. I'm supposed to have lunch with Max today to go over more details, something I'm both looking forward to and dreading.

It's just lunch, I remind myself. Certainly not worthy of the amount of thought I've been giving to it. If I want to worry about something with Max, I should worry about Saturday night, when I'll be attending the art opening with him. Wearing a designer dress he's having delivered to me this evening. If I'm not careful, the combination of Max in formal attire, me in a fancy dress, cocktails and champagne, and an evening of casual flirting could prove lethal.

But right now I'm in the main conference room for the weekly Wednesday morning attorneys' meeting, and I'm wondering what my grandfather is going to say about our newest client, Max Bennett. Word has already spread through the firm, particularly since I've been having conversations with a few of the transactional lawyers who are familiar with deals like this.

I don't have to wait long to find out. As soon as everyone has settled into their seats with coffee and a small plate from the display of breakfast rolls and fresh fruit set up at one end of the conference room, he calls the meeting to order and gets started.

I study him while he mentions a few other items of new business, then moves on to the art gallery I'm representing. I can't help but notice he has dark circles under his eyes, and I wonder if he got much sleep last night. I don't think it's the issue with Max that's wearing him down, although I suppose it's contributing to an already bad situation.

I resolve to talk to him again about getting some help at night after Olivia, the memory care nurse/companion who cares for Patricia during the day, goes home.

He's a stubborn man who seems to think he can handle things on his own, but I honestly don't know how long he can keep this up without compromising his own health. I tried to talk to my father about it, but he immediately shuts down if I say anything positive about either of my grandparents, or even show a hint of empathy for their situation.

The resentment and antipathy he has for them is so entrenched that I don't think he's capable of seeing them in any other light. I'm not sure he's even forgiven me for coming here to Miami and accepting Andrew's offer.

But he loves me, and he goes out of his way not to criticize me for that decision.

Andrew is talking about the opportunity with the art gallery potentially paving the way for more work from the arts community, when Dylan speaks up.

"Are you sure it's wise for the law firm to associate ourselves with a gallery that everyone knows is connected to organized crime?"

A complete silence comes over the room.

"Excuse me?" I say. "Are you referring to the fact that Max Bennett, admittedly the son of a convicted felon, is one of the owners of the gallery? Because that's a rather tenuous connection, and certainly not a basis to claim that the gallery itself is connected to organized crime." I can feel the heat rising on my neck. The nerve of this guy.

"Really?" Dylan responds. "It doesn't seem tenuous to me."

"To my understanding," Andrew says, "Maxwell Bennett Jr. has never been convicted of any crime, and in fact is a strong supporter of many charitable organizations and community endeavors here in Miami. His partners in the gallery - Claude and Chantelle Devereaux - are highly respected in the art world, and have been for more than forty years."

"There's plenty of gossip here in Miami about Bennett's connection to various criminal enterprises, which he allegedly took over when his father was sentenced to life in prison." Dylan actually looks smug, and I have the strong urge to wipe that smirk off his face with my fist. But that would only make me look like a criminal.