Falling for Fangs

“No, I’m sorry,” Maxwell said. “I screwed this up. I can see how it must have come across. I would hate to make you feel like your dress isn’t good enough. Maybe you can wear this one to Thelema with me some time instead.”

“I do really like it,” Chloe said, fingering the green lace. “I just…for the awards, I wanted to wear the dress I made. I don’t know, maybe it’s silly. It’s kind of symbolic of this business. I did it all myself.”

“That isn’t silly,” Maxwell’s voice was soft. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to show you that it’s okay to enjoy life. To treat yourself to nice things. And if you won’t do it yourself, I’ll do it for you.”

“Not everyone lives like you,” Chloe said, suddenly feeling irritated again. Was she incapable of enjoying life because she wasn’t a millionaire jetsetter? “You don’t have to buy me things. Maybe your other women expected that, but I—”

Chloe stopped. There was a silence. A long, tense silence. She had gone too far.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, but it wasn’t enough. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Maybe I should be sorry,” Maxwell said slowly. “I know that this kind of thing is sensitive for you. Gifts and all. I shouldn’t have bought the stupid dress.”

“No, I know you meant well,” Chloe said, reaching out to him. “I…I kind of have trouble accepting gifts. Especially big ones. And I guess… Well, I know I’m not like the kind of people you’re usually friends with.”

“Well, that’s true,” Maxwell said, drawing her close once more. “You’re not like other people I’ve known. You’re much better. You don’t need a fancy dress to be with me.”

Chloe managed a small smile. “I’d like to keep it, though,” she said. “If you don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Maxwell said. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just…”

“Wanted to do something nice for me,” Chloe finished. “And I’m grateful. Really.”

“Of course you can keep it,” Maxwell said, putting the lid back on the box. “I couldn’t imagine anyone else ever looking half so good in it.”

The argument – if it had been one – was technically resolved. But, as Chloe pulled her sweatshirt back on, she still felt awkward. Maybe Maxwell didn’t know her as well as she thought he did. Or maybe she was just an ungrateful bitch.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” she asked. “Is there a Casino 2? Actually, that wouldn’t work. All the characters get killed off.”

Maxwell laughed. “You get to choose tonight,” he said gallantly, and she let herself be drawn into his arms on the sofa. “Whatever you want, Chloe.”

Whatever she wanted? If only Chloe knew what that was.