One Moment Please (Wait With Me #3) - Amy Daws Page 0,13
practice?” Max asks, his brows lifting.
I shrug. “Eventually, yes. I have some big ideas for the future, but first I want to find a job that gets me more field experience with kids. I need to know what it’s like to actually work with children before I plunge headfirst into my dreams.”
“It’s good to have dreams. Don’t ever settle,” Max replies and takes a sip of his whiskey before adding, “Do you have any children of your own?”
“I wish!” I laugh and then cringe at how eager I must sound. “Sorry…I just…I love kids. My sister has two little girls, and I love spending time with my nieces. Honestly, I love spending time with all kids. I’m one of those weirdos who will offer to hold someone’s child at an airport if they’re by themselves and struggling with the baby and their luggage. You see it a lot actually. This one time, I got to hold a woman’s baby on the plane for the entire journey while his mom napped. It was magical. The little guy loved me.” I close my eyes for a brief second to relive that wonderful flight.
When my lids lift, Josh’s eyes bore into me with disdain.
Did I make some sort of offensive joke without realizing it?
I do my best to ignore him as I finish my train of thought. “But sadly, I don’t have any children. Or a husband. Or a boyfriend, for that matter. I think you kind of need one of those to get the other.”
Max laughs. “That’s not always the case.”
I smile, grateful that at least he doesn’t seem offended by my love of children. “Well, I’m certain a career working with kids will fulfill me a great deal.”
Josh expels a dry laugh from the other side of the booth, and everyone’s attention turns to him.
“Something funny about what I just said?” I splay my hands on the table to stop myself from smacking the smug expression right off his face.
He watches me for a moment while all signs of humor drain from his features. “Nothing funny about that at all. It’s sad actually.”
“Sad?” I jerk back. “What could possibly be sad about working with kids?”
“It’s just that…” He pauses to lick his lips and prop his elbows on the table, leveling me with a condescending expression. “Typically, people who obsess over children don’t have enough experience with them. So, I sincerely hope you know what you’re getting yourself into with that specialty.”
He grabs his tumbler, downing the rest of his whiskey in one gulp as I stare at him slack-jawed.
Who the hell does this guy think he is?
My tone drips acid. “I’ve done a lot of research for my paper and had some field experience with my studies, so I think I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.”
“That’s what they all say.” A muscle in his jaw ticks as he turns to wave down the server who’s passing our table. “Another whiskey, please.”
The jerk has manners for her apparently. Too bad he can’t extend me the same courtesy.
I wave my empty. “I’ll have another Birds and Bees too, please. A double this time.”
“Maybe you should have a water,” Dean whispers, and I turn an accusatory glare at him.
“I’ll have another Birds and Bees,” I repeat my request with narrowed eyes. “We’re celebrating, remember?” I state the last bit through clenched teeth.
Dean grumbles under his breath, “It’s your hangover.”
I turn my frown upside down and ignore Josh’s stare while nodding to the waitress in confirmation. After she takes Max’s and Dean’s orders, she retreats to the bar.
After a moment of Dean and Max’s bakery talk, Josh suddenly stands without a word and strides over to the bar where the waitress is still standing. He whispers something in her ear, and she smiles a flirty smile at him, flipping her hair over her shoulder and biting her lip. She looks at our table briefly and then nods.
“What the hell was that all about?” I mumble with curiosity, interrupting whatever Max was saying to Dean.
“What’s that, Lynsey?” Max asks kindly.
I swallow hard. “Nothing.”
Josh returns a moment later looking extra arrogant as he slides in next to his buddy who doesn’t miss a beat.
Boy, Max is a talker. I had a schnauzer named Max when I was growing up…and even he didn’t talk nearly this much. Or bark. Honestly, Human Max pales in comparison to Dog Max.
Max and Dean are deep in conversation when the waitress returns with our drinks. Or I should say,