Max spent the Christmas holidays in a daze.

He operated almost mechanically, eating mince pies and stringing up ornaments on the fake tree that Margaux got for their penthouse suite. On Christmas Day, Max feigned enthusiasm over the Rolex that Rory got him, and he managed to smile when Louise wrapped tinsel around her neck and performed a very off-key version of "Jingle Bell Rock."

But annoyingly, Max couldn't stop thinking about the night that he went skating with Ella.

Because for the tiniest of moments when Ella was twirling around like an idiot — and it had really only been a split-second, mind you — Max had looked at her and thought, Wow, she's really beautiful.

He felt horrified even thinking about it.

Because it was Ella. Elliephant. Ella sodding Walker.

She was Rory's younger sister. Hell, she was basically his younger sister. Hadn't Max taught her how to change the oil in a car? Didn't he cheer at her violin concerts over the years, and give her boyfriends a hard time when they came over? Ella had once brought her ex-boyfriend Adam on a camping weekend, and Max had a long talk with him while chopping wood with a very sharp ax. Adam had never said a bad word to Ella again.

No.

Ella was off-limits. And that was that.

It didn't help that she was everywhere, though.

She was laughing by the Christmas tree, and lounging in the hot tub on their balcony. She was whipping up shortbread in their small kitchen and fussing over Louise and Rory and anybody else that came to their penthouse.

It was bloody inconvenient.

Max was almost relieved when Christmas and New Year came to an end and the tour started up once more, forcing them to travel to Glendale, Arizona. Music would take his mind off things. Max was certain of it.

He was planning to catch a few hours of sleep on the plane, but his sister, it seemed, had other plans. She plopped into the seat next to him.

"So," Louise said abruptly. "Theo."

Max cracked an eye open. "No, I'm your brother. Max."

"Very funny." Louise rolled her eyes. "No, I mean that Theo's asked me on a date next week, and I'm going to say yes."

Max sat up, abruptly jolted awake.

"He what?"

"He asked me out."

"Well, this is the first I'm hearing of it," Max growled, shooting his friend a dark look. Theo waved cheerfully back at him, clearly unperturbed. The sly bastard. "He could have bloody well spoken to me first."

"You're okay with it, then?"

Max deflated. Louise was looking at him so hopefully that he couldn't say no, even if he wanted to. Besides, it would be terribly hypocritical of him to tell Theo that Louise was too young when Max wanted to take Ella—

He broke off abruptly.

No.

Bad thoughts.

"It's fine," Max sighed. "What day are you going?"

"This Thursday."

Max stared at her. Surely, Louise could have picked a better day. Literally any other day. He glanced at Ella, who was immersed in a book.

"This Thursday?" he repeated.

"Yes," Louise said defensively. "Why?"

Because that was the fifth of January: Ella's birthday.

Max decided not to get involved. Maybe it was the only day that worked for Theo, or something. Louise and Ella were probably celebrating earlier in the day; Max would only be putting his foot in it by asking questions.

"No reason," Max said, shrugging. "Just checking."

But Louise and Ella didn't celebrate.

When Max knocked on Ella's door on Thursday morning, she was dressed in cut-off jeans and a black t-shirt, her blonde hair pulled into a sloppy ponytail. There were ink stains all over her hands, and her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she had spent the morning crying.

His heart twisted. She looked beautiful.

And she also looked very alone.

"Where's Rory?" Max demanded, charging into her room.

"Oh, he's out on a date." Ella smiled sheepishly. "With Vienna."

"And Louise?"

"Out with Theo," Ella said.

"Margaux?"

"She had an emergency." Ella gestured awkwardly to a large pile of envelopes on the table. "She asked me to deal with the fan mail today."

Max didn't ask after Oliver. He knew that Oliver was getting his hair cut today, and honestly, he was secretly relieved not to find the two of them alone together in Ella's room.

But still.

He felt rage swell inside of him. Bloody, insensitive idiots, the lot of them. He had seen Margaux sneaking off to the spa earlier, so he suspected that her emergency was more of a day of pampering, the liar. If it was any other day, Max would have been proud of her. Margaux worked harder than any other person he knew; she deserved a day off.

But as it was, Max was furious.

As if she could sense his anger, Ella switched subjects. "What's that?" she asked, nodding to the box in his hands.

"Oh, right." Max passed it to her. "Happy birthday, Angel."

"You remembered!"

She looked so delighted that it broke his heart. And he felt it break a little more as Ella ripped into the present eagerly, exclaiming over the sapphire bracelet. Max had bought it weeks ago on a whim. Now, he wished he had put a little more thought into it.

"I love it," Ella breathed. "Thank you."

"It's just a bracelet."

"It's the prettiest bracelet I've ever seen," Ella said firmly. "I mean it, Max."

They stood there awkwardly for a moment. Ella glanced at the clock and then at her pile of letters, looking sheepish.

"I should probably..." She gestured vaguely to the pile. "I mean, you probably have plans with Lexi, anyways."

"I'll stay," Max said immediately. "I don't have plans."

It was a bold-faced lie. Max was supposed to go down to the stadium to check on some lighting cues for the concert tonight, and then he was meeting up with Lexi for lunch. But there was no way that he was leaving Ella on her own. Not on her birthday.

"You don't have to," Ella said. "It'll be boring. I'm just writing names on envelopes for the next few hours."

"Fortunately for you," Max said, rolling up his sleeves, "I have excellent penmanship." He held out a hand. "Pass some over."

They were only working for a few moments before Ella realized that they needed stamps. She left for the hotel lobby, and Max seized on the opportunity to yank his phone out of his pocket, punching in a series of numbers. Rory picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"I don't care what you're doing," Max hissed. "Get your ass back to the hotel."

"Why?"

"It's Ella's birthday, you idiot," said Max.

There was a long, drawn-out pause.

"Today?" Rory asked.

Max could have strangled him. "No, next week," he snapped. "Yes, of course it's today, you wanker."

"Mom didn't call to remind me."

Max groaned. Bloody brilliant. So Ella's parents had forgotten as well. "You need to come up with a plan," Max told him firmly. "And it has to be good, Rory. Make it look like you knew all along."

Otherwise, Ella would be crushed. And the thought killed him.

"What if I pick up some steaks on the way back?" Rory asked hopefully. "And a bottle of champagne. Ella makes these insane garlic butter steak bites—"

"It's her birthday, Rory. Ella's not cooking."

"Oh, Ella doesn't mind," Rory said. "She likes cooking."

"And I like marmite grilled cheese," Max growled. "It doesn't mean that I want to eat it all the bloody time, though."

There was an incredulous pause.

"Take her somewhere nice for lunch," Max said, relenting. "A nice restaurant. I mean it, Rory."

"Okay, fine." Rory sounded defensive. "I'll take her to that new sushi place. Novo."

"Not sushi." Max closed his eyes, struggling for patience. Christ almighty. "She hates fish. Take her somewhere else." Inspiration struck. "What about The Pegasi?"

"The Greek place?" Rory sounded dumbfounded. "Even if I throw around my name, it'll take weeks to get in there. Months, even."

"I can call in a favour," Max said dismissively. He had promised to take Lexi there, but never mind; Ella came first. "How's an hour from now?"

"Isn't Louise still out with Theo?"

"Lou and I aren't coming," Max said sharply. Honestly. He could have hit him. "Ella hasn't seen you in ages. She'll want to have lunch with you alone."

"But you're family," Rory scoffed. "You're practically her brother."

Max swallowed. He felt sick, although why his stomach was in knots, exactly, he couldn't have said. "Just be here soon," he growled. "And don't come empty-handed. I mean it, Rory."

He hung up the call.

Max texted Louise next, writing, It's Ella's birthday, you daft idiot — pick up a present before the concert. And tell S and O to call her. You're welcome.

Then Max called The Pegasi. As Rory had anticipated, the restaurant was booked solid for the next month, but after a little wheedling and name-dropping, Max managed to secure a table for two. He was just wrapping up the call when Ella walked through the door.

"No offense," Ella said, eyeing the large pile of envelopes, "but you're not a very efficient letter writer, are you?"

Max grinned. "I've been called worse."

Ella eyed the pile dubiously. "You have an awful lot of fans."

"Not as many as Theo," Max said, seizing the nearest envelope. "But, alas, I must learn to live in his shadow."

He couldn't help but think that they made a good team as they worked; he was in charge of writing out names, while Ella tackled the stamps and sealing of the envelopes. Admittedly, Max was slightly disturbed at how turned on he was by watching her lick each letter, but he decided to file that away under things to think about never again.

Max was almost disappointed when there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," Ella volunteered, rising from her seat.

The door swung open, and Max heard her gasp.

"Surprise!" Rory said.

He was standing in the doorway, carrying a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a jumble of colorful balloons in the other. Max was pleased to see that the flowers were yellow roses. At least Rory got that part right.

"Oh, Rory," Ella gasped, her cheeks turning pink. "You shouldn't have!"

He grinned. "Happy birthday, Ells."

Ella launched herself at her brother, tackling him in a hug. Over her shoulder, Rory mouthed the words thank-you at Max. And Max, not in the mood to be generous, flipped him off.

Rory owed him one.

But Ella, at least, was happy.

And somehow — Max didn't know when — that had become the most important thing in the world to him.