Fighting Fire With Fire

4.

Max's mom looked positively worn out as she walked into the lounge area of the Topas restaurant. She held her phone in her hand like she was expecting a call any second, which was probably true. As far as Max knew, Mom was working on a difficult and important catering business deal that, in her words, 'will be a game changer!' 

Max stood as his mom approached. "Hey mom," he greeted her. 

Instead of greeting him back, Mom's dark eyes narrowed. "That boy you fought yesterday evening at Lounge6 was Patrick Braham. Do you know who he is?"

"Frankly, his name is already more than I want to know about the loser."  

Max wrinkled his nose, and Mom let out an exasperated sound. "He's the son of Mr. Braham, head of Braham's catering services. And Mr. Braham's wife works for one of the best lawyer firms in our state!" 

"Oh. That explains why Cologney boy reeked of overconfidence and entitlement," Max replied sarcastically. "You know, despite the fact I had no clue who he was before you told me." 

Max thought his reply was pretty clever, but Mom wasn't amused at all at his answer. 

"Mr. Braham is our new caterer," she said through gritted teeth. "A deal worth millions. And now I have him telling me you assaulted his son and his son's friends at that club!" 

"What!" Max's eyes went wide. "Bullshit! He attacked Selene and I defended her!" 

Mom shot Max an irritated look. "I know you didn't start it, but that doesn't matter if Patrick is telling his dad you did! And I have to fix-" 

A shrill ringtone cut off her sentence, and Mom immediately picked up her phone with a 'yes?' 

She walked away, and Max lowered himself in one of the fancy chairs, audibly letting air escape his mouth and clenching the armrests.

The snake! Trying to pin the blame on him. Paul, or whatever his name was, was both a wuss and a liar. He and his lackeys had quickly left when Selene got security involved.  And now he had taken the low road and told his daddy a sob version of the story in which he was the victim? A story in which Max had, of course, attacked him first. 

What could Max do about it? It would only be a he said-she said story. Selene would support his version, and Patrick's friends would support his. He was going to get nowhere fast. In both the figural and literal sense. 

As if Max's mood hadn't plummeted enough yet, for the next few hours he would get to share a table and make polite dinner small talk with his now second least favourite person, Axel Cortés, and his parents. In a suit. 

"Frown deeper will you,"  Max's dad, Leo, said once Max lowered himself in a seat at the dinner table. "It's not like you're in one of the best hotel-restaurants in town, about to eat an amazing dinner that'll make your tastebuds sing."

Leo winked at Max with sparkling green eyes. 

"I would enjoy my amazing dinner much more if I didn't have to eat it with Cortés' ugly mug in front of me," Max grumbled under his breath. 

It only made Leo laugh. 

At thirty-eight, his dad -who he rarely called Dad, but rather referred to as Leo- hardly looked a day over twenty-five. Max kept his fingers crossed he'd not only inherited dad's sandy complexion, height, great smile, and even greater bone structure, but also his ability to look great at any age. Looks were only part of it however; a large part of Leo's youthful appearance be attributed to his attitude, too.

Leo, even when elbowing Max in the ribs and chastising him for looking moody, he still sounded more like a friend than a dad sometimes. Probably the reason why it was weird calling him Dad and Max stuck with Leo.