Walking on Eggshells

"Are you okay, mate?"

He nodded. There were a lot of things going through his mind and he only had one answer. His past defines why he was drawn to her financial records. His impression of the 401K plan was that it amounted to nothing more than a pittance, poor girl. However he was impressed that she'd created a small e-trade account and though her choices were not the best when it came to transactions, at least she was putting her savings to work. Could he have been torn from his other life just to come here to straighten out her portfolio? How ridiculous!

"You know, Max, I very rarely spend time walking on the Philly art museum lawn. For me to stumble into the situation that brought you here is a one in a million chance. I don't even want to try to figure out what the odds of you being here are. Near impossible."

"I am flesh and blood, correct? I am real. You're not the only one who can see me. Is there a higher power at play here?"

"How else would you explain it?" she shrugged again. "Do we need to explain it? I mean you are real, you are here. Others have seen you so I'm not dreaming you." As an afterthought she reckoned he was kind of close to the man of her dreams. He's the perfect age, more than gorgeous and he's cocky. Mara liked cockiness when it had reins. Max Skinner just might have the bit in his teeth, though.

"I think it would be a waste of time. We could go round and round about it but to what end?" Standing in the center of her living room, he wondered if this was what was to be for him for the remainder of his existence. Should he consider that fact that if he was spirited away from one life, could it happen to him again? Should he take the time and effort to develop a relationship with this woman? A friendship? Not to have it all torn away again.

"I reckon that you're right, Max." Mara lay her palm on his cheek. "I'm kind of glad you're here. I mean I'm sad that you've been taken from someplace you know but if you had to end up in anther time and place, I'm glad it's here.

Why did she have to go and say something like that? It made him uncomfortable to say the least. He took her hand and removed it from his face, letting it go slowly. "Who knows how long it will last? I suppose I should make the best of it. Tell me something. Do you have access to the money in your portfolio? Quick access?"

"There isn't much in there."

"Look again. You'll see why the broker called."

Mara cocked a brow. She took her time getting to the PC, leery of what she might find. Dropping her sweater over the back of the desk chair, she sat down and opened the file. It took a moment for her e-trade transactions to appear but what she saw nearly stopped her heart.

"Is this fucking real? You did something, eh? This is some kind of trick. I could...I could...retire on this much money!"

Max bent down to peer over her shoulder. "Ah, yes it’s grown considerably since the last time I looked at it.However it’s hardly a fortune. May I sit there? I believe I can parlay this into something a little more lucrative."

"Be my guest." She rose from the chair. "I have no idea what you did, Max. I just play a little with the trades. I've never lost anything to speak of but I've never really gained anything. Are you sure this is on the up and up, mate? There are six figures here."

"I can assure you that the money is yours. I'll be more than happy to accept a gratuity if you chose to do so. That way I could pay you for my upkeep."

She thought he was kidding but he had a way of making it sound believable. "Gratuity? I could buy you a house in Lansdale and still have enough left over for me."

As Max worked his magic, her phone rang. She left him in order to answer it and it was the broker.

"Miss McKenzie, this is Dave Fry. I don't usually contact online customers but I have to know something. Did you have any idea that Harper McDouglas stock would shoot up the way it did?"

"Mister Fry, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"This purchase and well-timed sale that you made was the stuff of legendary fortunes. It's about as common as ..as ball lightning. Not a single one of us saw that coming and you can't tell me this was a random move on your part. I won't believe it."

"I can assure you it was an error, a simple twist of fate. I don't reckon anything like it will happen again."

"For a time I thought you had some inside info. Insider trading is illegal, you know. Look at Martha Stewart."

"I can assure you, mate. There's nothing illegal going on here. I don't know anyone who works for Harper...Mcwhatever or ...any other stock person." She was basically clueless.

"For some reason, I believe you. Can you give me a tip on today's market? I can't look into your account until the end of the day."

"No. I'm really sorry. I guess I just got lucky."

"It's okay, Mara. Can I call you Mara and...would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

"Mister Fry!"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Mackenzie. I was out of line but you are so facilitating."

She wondered how he'd act if he knew that it was Max Skinner who was full of fascination and not her.  "It's okay. No worries, mate. Thanks for the call."

She hung up the phone and moved back over to the desk. "Max, it was a man from the brokerage on the phone. He was kind of suspicious by my reckoning. Just tell me you're not doing anything illegal."

He turned and shot her a look. "Perish the thought! It's all on the up and up. Mara, fortunes are made and lost on a daily basis in the trade of stocks and bonds. All it takes is a little bit of analysis and large amount of luck."

"So you're saying we just got lucky?"

"I could turn that statement around. It's what you do with stocks. You turn them around at the perfect moment."

"I don't feel this is one of those moments."

Under different circumstances he would have disagreed. She was a good-looking woman; he was a bloke with all of the right equipment. The Max Skinner who lived in London would have talked her out of her knickers before the bell rang on Wall Street but there was a problem. She wasn't a friend who came with benefits. But Max was Max. Had anything like this ever stopped him before? Did he change since he came here?

Hitting the send button for the final time, he stood slowly. Those eyes, previously described as weapons of mass seduction, met hers and he straightened his shoulders. "Now, my dear, as for the rest of the day I don't think either of us got much sleep last night. I say we go to bed. We'll get up later this afternoon, draw some money from your account and go out. Dinner at the Four Seasons and a film would be nice.

"Hold on, mate. Bed? Together? Dinner? Four Seasons? What bloody film?"

"My bloody film, of course, for research. Come on." He stroked her waist lightly and achieved the desired effect. The fine points of her nipples were evident through the tee shirt she had on and he knew she'd be wrapped around his little finger in a matter of minutes. "Your room or mine? Personally I prefer yours because it’s more lived in. We'll get up early enough to buy you a new dress and shoes, something in navy blue." He ran the back of his hand from her neck to her tummy before grasping onto the curve of her waist. "If I'm going to learn how to live again, this is a good place to start." 

"Hold on, mate! Wait one fucking minute! If you think I'm going to jump in the sack with you just because you turned my account into a nest egg the size of one a pterodactyl would hatch ..."

CONTINUED AS "PRADA DOESN'T MAKE GLASS SLIPPERS"

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