that the gentleness he rarely displayed? God, Max could always get her with softness. No matter how big and tough and mean and bad he was, when he turned soft, it killed her.
No, she reminded herself sharply, it killed her father.
She opened the skinny silver phone and pressed the TALK button. The screen lit up. “You said press one?”
Max flipped the phone closed. “I’m the best she’s got, kid.”
She looked up and met his gaze. “I hear the Bullet Catchers are all the cream of the security crop. I’m sure we can find a suitable replacement.”
He reached for the phone, but she tugged it toward her chest.
He relented and let her have it. “Before you call, why don’t you tell me exactly what your problem is,” he suggested. “Then I can help Lucy pick the right bodyguard for you.”
The shatter of glass on metal reverberated from the patio. In one split second, Max whirled around, blocked Cori with his massive body and whipped out a handgun.
“I just want to talk to her!” The strident voice echoed across the lawn, loud enough to hush two hundred inquisitive guests who peered at the scene from around the pavilion and on every balcony. “I don’t need a fucking invitation to my own father’s house.”
Oh, God. Billy.
“Don’t shoot him, Max,” Cori said, stepping away from the human wall he’d made. “He’s my stepson. And he…” she added with a definite edge, “is my problem.”
Billy Peyton easily pushed past Breezy’s ineffective arms and ambled across the lawn, drawing every eye to the luster of his long, platinum blond hair. Cori knew what the cellular buzz from South Beach to Coral Gables would be tomorrow: Billy Peyton was wasted. Not exactly news.
She squared her shoulders, bracing for the worst. She’d become adept at acting like his behavior was normal, a trick she’d used to keep William from getting enraged over his only son’s antics. “I’m right here, Billy.”
As she took the steps to the upper lawn to meet him, Max was right beside her.
Billy stumbled as he approached her and she reached out to steady him.
“What do you want?” she demanded.
He leaned back and even in the dim party light, she could see his enlarged pupils and pink-rimmed eyes. What was it tonight? Weed? Coke? Ecstasy?
His eyes swept over her. “That’s a pretty stupid question, Mom.”
Disgust roiled, but she kept her tone modulated. “I received the papers, and my attorney will contact yours. There’s nothing else to discuss. Especially not tonight—this is a critical fund-raiser for the Foundation. Please. Do me a favor and leave.”
He lowered his head in a bull-like gesture that might have been threatening, if he wasn’t just this side of throwing up and his floppy surfer locks didn’t ruin the whole effect.
“I don’t want to discuss shit and I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about your Foundation. Where’s the bar?”
“It’s closed.”
“Open it.”
“Get out of here,” she said through gritted teeth, vaguely aware that Max had moved behind Billy. “Without making a scene.”
As he opened his mouth to argue, Max seized him around the neck. Billy tried to lunge, but Max easily overpowered him with his left hand.
In his right, he held up a sleek black gun.
“Holy fuck—” Billy’s eyes widened in terror and he jerked again, but Max immobilized every muscle with one squeeze.
“Watch your language around the lady,” Max growled, pointing the gun straight up.
“Who the hell are you?” Billy grunted, twisting his head to see Max. “Get your fu—”
Max yanked tighter. “I said, watch your language.”
Cori took a step toward them. “I’ve hired a bodyguard, Billy. You’re wasting your time threatening me.”
He snorted. “You are swimming in delusions of grandeur, Cor. I just want what is mine. Just because you got flat on your back for—”
Max wrenched his neck, maybe a little harder than necessary. “It’s time for you to leave, Mr. Peyton.”
Fury flashed in Billy’s pale blue eyes and he tried to shake his head. “This is my dad’s house and I’m—”
Max cocked the gun. “Leaving.”
Billy stared at the weapon, sweat beading over his upper lip.
“Is there another way out besides the front?” Max asked Cori.
She indicated the north lawn. “You can take him around the guest house.”
Billy glared at her, his dilated pupils sparking with hatred. “Whore.” He mouthed the word at her so Max didn’t hear it.
“He shouldn’t drive,” she said quietly. “I’ll meet you in the front and get a car and driver.”
“No need. I’ll take care of him,” Max said, walking away with Billy tightly