The stunned expression on his face made her want to take the words back. She’d jumped so far across the line of proper boss-employee conduct that she’d be lucky if he didn’t fire her. But something her brother had said in his pep talk about putting up with the garbage you had to endure and eliminating the annoyances you could had struck a chord with her.
If she couldn’t leave Max, then she had to make an effort to make her remaining time with him bearable. What did she have to lose? She’d already given up on winning his heart. “You can swim after breakfast.”
He pulled his arm from her grip. “That’s not safe. It causes cramps.”
“Oh, please. That’s an old wives’ tale, and you know it. Stop making excuses. Sit down. I’ll get you a plate.”
She watched him mentally debate his reply and then, surprisingly, he nodded. “Let’s eat outside.”
A victory of sorts. She’d take it. She grabbed a tray and piled on the dishes, flatware, coffeepot and casserole. Max took the tray from her and headed outside to the wide patio.
After taking a moment to admire the flex of his thick biceps, she raced ahead to open the sliding-glass door and then closed it behind them. Today he looked more like the smartly dressed, composed boss she was used to seeing in his crisply pressed Pal Zileri trousers and a short-sleeved shirt. Thanks to dealing with his dry cleaning, she knew more about his favorite designers than she needed to.
A steady breeze blew her bangs into her eyes. She impatiently brushed them aside. Now that she was home she needed to make time for a trim. “You should probably find time to visit your grandmother today. She’s asked about you.”
He set the tray on the table and shot her a questioning look. “You’ve talked to her?”
The cool morning air smelled fresh instead of smoggy. She caught a whiff of his cologne and inhaled deeply before she could stop herself. “Of course. I’ve visited Lillian twice since we’ve been back. She’s a bit frail, but her attitude is good, and she’s as sharp and witty as ever.”
He gave her a strange look. Dana shrugged and sat. “My family is on the other side of the continent and I miss them. So excuse me if I’ve adopted some of yours.”
“Where?”
She blinked in surprise. “Where is what?”
“Your family.”
How unusual. Max didn’t ask personal questions. He kept the lines between business life and personal life very clearly drawn. “North Carolina. My father teaches filmmaking at the university in Wilmington and my brother coaches there.”
“That’s where you caught the movie bug.”
“From my father? Yes. He always talked about coming to California and making movies, but family obligations kept him on the East Coast.” Why was she blabbering this stuff? Max hated useless chitchat.
“So you’re doing this for him.”
“No, I’m doing it for me. He and I used to edit our old family movies together. It was a hobby we loved and shared. During high school and college I used to write screenplays, but—”
Shut up, Dana. You’re blabbering again.
“But what?”
“Screenwriting’s not exactly a secure occupation.”
“Nothing in the entertainment industry is.”
“No.” That was why she’d been so thrilled to land a job with a heavyweight like Hudson Pictures.
She lifted the serving spoon to dish up the food, but hesitated when she realized she was about to fill Max’s plate. It was a bad habit—one she had to break. How many times had she fixed his lunch when she prepared hers? In fact, if she knew he was going to be working at his desk instead of out schmoozing for lunch, then she usually spent the evening before preparing something special and then packed enough for two the next day. No more of that.
She served herself and set the spoon back in the casserole dish, letting him get his own.
He did so. “You’ll have to send your family tickets to the Honor premiere.”
Her fork stopped short of her lips. Who was this man? Usually exhaustion made Max grumpy. It never made him likeable and approachable. “They’d like that.”
“I didn’t know you and my grandmother kept in touch.”
A chuckle escaped before she could stop it. Lillian had been a regular contact since the first day Dana set foot on Hudson property as Max’s executive assistant. The eighty-nine-year-old might be subtle, but she was effective.
“Are you kidding me? I run your world and she checks to make sure I’m doing it correctly and to her standards. She has a soft spot for you. Don’t tell her I said so, but I think you might be her favorite grandson.”
A tender smile curved Max’s lips and the love in his eyes made Dana’s breath hitch. If he ever looked at her like that, her new resolution to get over him would crumble.
No, it won’t. You’re past that. Remember?
Right. She’d promised to say yes to the next guy who asked her out. She might even sleep with him because it had been…forever since she’d had sex. Well, a couple of years anyway.
Step one in her twelve-step guide to getting over Max Hudson was to immerse herself in another man…or three.
Yeah, right. You never learned to juggle men.
Maybe it was time she tried. At least her heart would be safe that way.
Except for one fizzled relationship, she hadn’t dated all that much since taking the Hudson position. Luckily she lived in an apartment building populated by attractive actors waiting for their big break. When she had to attend a Hudson Pictures function she asked one of her neighbors to accompany her. That way she always had a good-looking guy on her arm, and she did them the favor of giving them exposure and introducing them to a few powerful people in the biz. A win-win situation.
She pulled herself back to her present. “In all the years I’ve worked with you, you’ve never worked with an associate producer. What will my duties be?”
He seemed to ponder as he ate. “You’ll liaison with the cast and crew.”
“I’ve done that before.”
“You’ll be responsible for checking location details, making sure each of the cast has what he or she requires and you’ll be troubleshooting.”
Not what she had in mind. “This is beginning to sound like my old job.”
“And until I have a new executive assistant it’s my job. I’m delegating.”
“Max—”
“Don’t ‘Max’ me. You asked for this, Dana.”
“If you’d look at the résumés piled on your desk, you might find a new E.A.”
“I have looked and none of the applicants has your qualifications.”
“That’s because I was overqualified.”
He frowned. “I don’t have time to train anyone right now, and neither do you.”
“But—”
“I’ll also need you to check the log sheet.”
She blinked at his change of subject and nearly groaned. Writing down each scene as it was filmed was mind-numbing. Checking it against the film was doubly so. She sighed. “What else?”
“Make an edit script.”
Boring desk work. But, okay, she knew that was part of the process. She forced herself