I spent two more days at my parents house after Henley died, following my dad around as he mowed the grass and fixed the wiring on the old chicken coop. The chickens chirped away as we silently worked together in the sun. I helped my mum divide up the leftover food from the hamper and Dave and I ran it across the road to the Klein's. Mrs Klein enveloped both of us in a familiar hug that squished us into her heavy bosom.

By the third morning, I decided I was ready to get back to the city.

"Do you have to go?" Dave asked from where he stood at the curb. Mum and dad stood behind him, one of mum's hands across his shoulders.

I threw my bag into the back of the black Mercedes Benz that had been sitting idly at the curb for the last day and a half. I'd had to raid my old cupboard and wear some of my old clothes for the last two days. Some of the track pants had definitely seen better days, although I was glad now that mum hadn't culled the stash.

"Unfortunately, I do, little man," I sighed. "I've got a job to get back to. My boss has already been kind enough to give me all this time off."

"Make sure you thank him for us, Sam. He sounds wonderful!" Mum chimed in with a wave of her hand. Having already said goodbyes and given long hugs on the veranda, I blew them a kiss and stepped into the cool insides of the car. The black leather seats were slippery and smelt clean and unused. I briefly wondered at how many cars Maxwell Strickland had at his disposal as the car slipped quietly away from the curb.

Mum, dad and Dave waved silently and vigourously as the car melted down the street and they became smaller.

I became aware of the combination of the quiet softness of the interior and the build up of the last few days and before we even left the street my eyes started drifting closed.

*************************

I slowly came to as my eyes fluttered open and for a moment, I didn't remember where I was or what had happened. It took a second to register the darkened, cool interior of the car and a familiar building outside the window as the car began to slow. I looked out the window as the car slowed to a stop and saw a familiar man standing waiting at the curb. The car door opened and I sleepily looked up at the man, who smiled quietly.

"Max?"

The smile grew and he knelt down on the curb so that we were almost at eye level. He reached a hand in as I reached mine out and they collided, his warm one with my cold one. His brow furrowed.

"Your hand is freezing, Sam."

I shrugged. "I was asleep."

He gave a small breathy laugh and his eye crinkled.
"I can see that."

I looked past him to the building, my building.
"You were waiting for me?"

Max hesitated. "Yes, I hope that's alright."

I gave him a smile, to show it was. "Would you like to come inside?"

He cast a glance at his driver, who was busy staring straight ahead through the windshield.

"Let me help you get your things inside," he cleared his throat and beckoned me forward. I stepped out of the car with the help of Max's hand then he released me and went around the car to retrieve my overnight case from the boot. The driver made a move to open the door and get out but before he could, Max was back and whispering something into the window at him. The conversation was soon over, before I had a chance to hear anything and Max was beckoning me forward once more.

We stepped through the entrance and foyer in silence and rode the elevator up to my floor. I suddenly became nervous at the idea of my boss seeing where I lived. Had I tidied up before I'd left or was the place a mess? Was he simply my boss or was he... something more? My mind was in nervous tangles. I didn't realise I'd been breathing like a marathon runner until he took my hand in his, rubbing warm circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. I caught his eye and took a steadying breath and smiled. This man was not simply my boss.

I let his hand go to unlock the door. "I don't know if I cleaned up before I left...."

I had a sudden image of what his mansion must look like and almost lost my cool, but by this point, the door was already swinging open and we were stepping inside.

My apartment was modest, and thankfully, clean. I watched him as he wandered in quietly, looking around the room at the simple furniture and photos of me and my family that adorned the bookshelf and coffee table. It was a weird sight, and one I hadn't imagined on my first day when I'd met him in the elevator. Now he was standing here, in all of his tall, dark and handsome glory, in the quiet of my apartment...

He picked up a photo of Lindsey and I, arms slung around one another, drunk off jager bombs when we were eighteen. Our smiles were wide and faces pink and warm with delight.

"Who is this?"

"That's Lindsey. My best friend. We grew up together."

He nodded. "Is she in Robertson?"

I kicked my shoes off at the door and hung my jacket up over the umbrella stand. "No, she's down south in  Shellharbour learning how to be a yoga instructor on the beach."

His eyebrows rose.

"Don't ask," I laughed.

His expression was burningly curious, but he moved on and picked up a photo of me and my family.

"This is your family?"

I nodded. "It was taken last year at the Robertson fair. Dave had just eaten three hotdogs and thrown up in the trash about ten minutes before that photo. Mum and dad were still laughing."

I went to stand by him as he looked down at the photo. I could feel the warmth pulsating off him in the smallness of the room. "Dave's my little brother," I added, clearing my throat.

He continued to hold the photo in his hands, gazing at it with an intense curiosity. My heart stammered loudly in the silence.

"Sam, when that elevator door opened and I saw your face..." he stopped for a moment and I realised he was talking about a few days ago, after I'd received the phone call from my mum about Henley. "When I let go of your hand and put you in that car..."

He stopped again, still gazing at the photo. My heart was racing by this point. What was he going to say?

There was a sudden rap on the door that interrupted us. I furrowed my brow and exhaled a breath I didn't realise I'd been holding, frustrated at who would be knocking on my door on a Sunday afternoon and interrupting this crucial moment. If it was my neighbour wanting sugar again, this would be the last time they would get it because I'd later kill them.

"Sorry, I'll just see who that is," I turned from Max and went to open the door.

I unlatched the chain and swung the door open and a mix of shock and alarm spread across my face to see Mark Hammond standing on my doorstep.

He looked sheepish and forlorn with his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Mark?"

"Hi, Sam."

"What are you doing here?"

"I was in the city for work, and just wanted to check in on you. I heard about Henley, and I -..." he paused abruptly as I felt someone, Max, come up behind me.

He paused behind my shoulder, so close we were almost touching. I felt his hand spread ever so lightly across the small of my back and a thrill of electricity spread through my chest. I wondered anxiously whether Mark could see it, and judging by the sour look that spread across his face, he could.

"Who's this, Sam?" Mark's tone had changed rapidly and held a sour note.

"Um, Mark, I don't think you should be here right now," I said, a lump forming in my throat.

Mark's gaze continued to pierce into Max's.
"Aw, don't be shy Sam. Introduce me. Isn't this your new boss? Looks a lot like him," he sneered, adding, "from all the photos in magazines of course."

"You heard her. She doesn't want you here. You should go, Mr Hammond." Max's tone was dark, one I'd never heard him use before. I turned my head and saw his face covered with a stony look. If I didn't know him already I would've shrunk away in fear. He stood a good head high than I did but he seemed suddenly even taller.

"Mr Hammond!" Mark laughed. "What a hoity toity one you are. Are you banging your boss now, Sammy? Didn't think you had it in you!"

My fists scrunched together in anger and embarrassment and I felt my cheeks turn red as Mark laughed. I felt Max reach around me to the door, and at the same time, gently push me out of the way so I stood behind him. His fingers wrapped around the door jam as he leaned forward, blocking my view.

"Do not come back here. I won't ask nicely again," Max said with a quiet fierceness, and he closed the door brusquely.

Mark began to bang against the closed door with his fists, as it rocked back and forth thinly. Max pulled his phone from his pocket and speed dialled out. He spoke quietly and quickly into it then once more slipped it back into his pocket.

"Who were you calling?"

Max stepped forward towards me. "It's alright, Sam. He'll be gone soon."

The banging continued loudly, as Mark began shouting obscenities. "It doesn't sound like it."

I shuddered at the callousness of his words and Max reached out and drew me into his arms. I hugged him back, melting into his warm embrace, realising that this was the closest we had ever been. The idea of Max being my boss was slowly separating itself and moulding into something... else. I wondered if he could feel it too.

The banging stopped and I heard voices and noises of scuffing on the hallway carpet, then silence.

"Is he gone?" I asked.

Max nodded. I could feel his heart through the soft cotton of his dark shirt, perfect and rhythmic, while mine stammered away wildly. I wondered whether it was because of Mark turning up at my door, or because Max was so close.

"Yes, he's gone."

"How do you know?"

"Victor removed him from the building."

"Who is Victor?"

"My driver," Max said. He drew back so he could look at me. "All of my drivers are also members of my security team."

I rose a brow at him. "Why do you need so much security?"

He shrugged a single shoulder as he watched me almost darkly. I saw his eyes flick across my face. "You never know."

A moment passed of quiet where we simply looked at eachother. I didn't want to let go but the silence was drawing out as we stood so close to one another. I burst out the first thing that came to mind.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?"