Dead-ends

Max felt silly striking the poses that the photographer directed them into. Especially the one where he and Greg stood nearly back to back with their arms across their chests and looking right at the camera. Still, it was going to be on the cover of the business magazine they were posing for, and he knew that would irk the piss out of his father and sister. So Max put up with it; it was the interview afterwards that he wasn't going to enjoy. It was the reason he and Terry had bought that home for, so their private life would remain private. He had even caught his sister, sometimes alone and sometimes with MJ, driving by his house. Even from the distance from the house to the street, he could see the peeved look on Darcy's face at the fact he had a place within the community, and all she had was a condo in the city. Kissing Terry goodbye when she had to get back to her practice once the photoshoot was over. Promising Stephine that he would stop by her desk and chat for a bit once their interview was over. Hugging his future mother-in-law, who treated him like a son once he and Terry announced that they were getting married.

"Please, don't be alarmed; this is for our website," the reporter said, gesturing to the woman who was manning the camera. "So our readers can see and hear little clips of you two."

Max glanced at Greg, who nodded. It was normal when he slyly gave him that look. That he's had dozens of interviews that went about how this was structured. So he took Greg's lead on this since this was all new to him.

"So, Mr. Archer, how does it feel knowing that someday your company will be in the hands of the man beside you?"

"He's a little green, yet he knows the people of this company; he has seen what bad management looks like up close. I have no doubt in the coming years he will do well enough to handle the reins of the company," Greg said factually.

"Mr. Archer, are you aware the man that's sitting beside you is living under a false name? Can you really trust someone whose name doesn't even appear anywhere in county records until a little over six years ago?"

"I know his reasons; your question isn't the 'gotcha' as you think it is," Greg stated, brushing off the question.

"Then you know, this man," waving to Max, "is none other than Maxwell Colin Monroe, the youngest son of the Monroe family, who has ties to every business on the east coast and them some?"

"Of course I do," Greg said, rolling his eyes. "He told us himself."

"And aren't you worried that this could be some scheme from the Monroe's to..."

"I'm going to stop you right there," Max cut in. "You are way off base with your accusations. Even if my family was trying to worm their way into this company, they certainly don't need me to do it, nor would I ever help them to do so in the first place."

"Then please, explain why the son of one of the richest families in the country pretends to be this Maxwell Larson?"

"I am Maxwell Larson; it's my legal name; as you should know, if you went through the county records like it appears that you have done, you would know that. And I prefer Max, not Maxwell. As to the reason I do not use my family name is, well, money isn't everything in the world. It doesn't keep you warm. It doesn't love you. All it does is make you very selfish and petty and bring out the worst in people."

"Yet, everyone knows the name, Monroe? Why not use it? Surely it would have helped to propel you into your career?"

"That's kind of the point; I don't need my family name to achieve what I want out of this life. How would I know if I got to where I am; would it be based on my merit, my work, our by their name?" Max stated as calmly as he could.

"Surely your name had to be of some factor when you became a silent partner of La Panoramique?"

"No, it did not; my business partners didn't even know my last name until they signed the contract. They're good people, just needed a helping hand at the time. It doesn't hurt that Anna is one of the best cooks I know. So I knew my investment would be recouped in no time," Max said, seeing the glance Greg was giving him. Knowing he still owed his future father and mother-in-law lunch at the restaurant.

"And Mr. Archer, how do you feel knowing your protégé is pulled in so many directions, given we were able to suss out that he has his fingers in a few other businesses around the city."

"As long as it doesn't interfere with his job here, that's his business," Greg answered truthfully.

"Excuse me," Max interrupted as his phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. Showing Greg the confirmation on their lunch when Terry had sent him a text since they had been pretty packed since they had returned from France. Plus, Paro and Anna were catering their wedding, so Terry was there almost every other day, or Paro and Anna were over at their house.

Max sighed once the interview was over as he and Greg walked out of the room they had been in. Feeling Greg's hand patting him on his back as they walked towards his office. Who pulled out his own phone when Darla called it the moment she knew he would be free. Listening to Greg chuckle at how excited Darla was as Max could hear her voice coming over the line.

"What'cha think? You think Stephine would want to join us for lunch?" Max asked, causing Stephine's head to shoot up. Knowing Terry, she had probably already told her sister where they were going for lunch.

"Don't tease me, Max," Stephine warned with a pointed look.

"Who said I was teasing?"

"You know if you're going to La Panoramique, I so want in?!" Stephine said sternly.

"Then you best get your work done before twelve-thirty," Greg mused, passing his daughter's desk as he led Max into his office.

As Max sat around that table, listening to their happy chatter. He never thought this day would ever come. To be accepted, to be treated like a part of a family. To not have to worry about some plot his parents or sister cooked up. To just simply relax and enjoy the comradery that the Archer family was willing to offer to him. Smiling at his future wife, he knew whatever the future held, it wouldn't stand a chance against them.

The End.