You knew this was going to happen, right?”
Max got a beer out of the fridge and shook his head.
“I knew something would happen, I just didn’t realize people would care this much.” He dropped down on the couch next to Wes. “I don’t care about the headlines about me, whatever. But when they talk about Olivia like that, it makes me so angry. Especially since I told her it wouldn’t really be a big deal, and . . . now I feel like a jackass.”
Wes’s eyes widened.
“You told her it wouldn’t . . . Okay, well, in the grand scheme of things, you’re right. This should all blow over in a few days. Maybe even tomorrow, depending on what else happens in politics tonight. Did you tell her that?”
Max shook his head.
“I haven’t even talked to her—she talked to Kara earlier, but we’ve been playing phone tag all day—I called her as soon as I could, but it went to voice mail, then when she called back, I was in the middle of a TV hit. I just tried her again, and nothing.”
He’d texted her an apology as soon as Kara had told him what was going on, and Olivia had said it was okay, she was dealing with it. But he hated that he’d given her something to deal with.
Wes picked up the remote.
“Don’t stress. You’ll make it up to her this weekend.”
Max shrugged.
“I hope so.”
He could tell Wes felt bad for him, though, because he turned the TV from MSNBC to baseball. He even clicked past soccer to land on it.
After thirty minutes of watching soccer with his phone in his hand, Olivia finally called. He jumped up and went into his bedroom before answering.
“Hey. I hate this, I’m so sorry,” he said when he picked up.
“Well, saying ‘no comment’ that many times isn’t how I thought I’d spend my Monday, but I’ll survive,” she said. He could tell she was trying to joke about this, but she sounded off. She had a tense, wary tone to her voice. Like she was steeling herself up for what was to come.
“I really thought no one would actually care about this, but I was wrong,” he said. “But Kara thinks it should all blow over soon—Wes thinks so, too. So it’s not just me this time.”
She sort of laughed at that.
“Thanks, Kara told me that, too. And I hope she’s right. By the end of the day, Ellie and I both became experts at figuring out who was press within a second or so on the phone, so at least that’s something. Oh!” Her voice changed. The life came back to it. “Here’s some actual good news—we’re going to get to pitch Clementine in a few weeks! I’ve been dying to get an in there. I ran into Bruce Erickson last week at the community center, and when he asked me how the firm was going, I mentioned that our expertise would be a perfect fit for Clementine, and he connected me with a friend of his there. Keep your fingers crossed for us—this could be the big break Monroe and Spencer has been looking for.”
He hoped that excited tone in her voice was there to stay.
“Fingers and toes crossed,” he said. “It’s fantastic that Bruce hooked you up like that.”
She laughed.
“Well, let’s hope it bears fruit. Speaking of, I have to run—I told Jamila I’d help her out with a bulk produce pickup tonight.”
He was glad she was going to be with Jamila tonight, but God did he wish he could be with her.
“Okay, talk to you later. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she said.
As soon as he hung up, he picked up the phone again. Carrot cake this time, maybe? Or coconut?
Chapter Sixteen
On Thursday of the following week, Max called Olivia a few seconds after Kara left his office.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Olivia said when she answered the phone.
He smiled just at the sound of her voice. Thank God it didn’t have that tight, anxious pitch it had last week. He’d hated that sound in her voice, and he’d hated even more that he’d done that to her. And it had killed him to be so far away from her in those first few days when it was all so stressful. Just remembering that made him hesitate. Maybe his great idea wasn’t so great after all.
“Max, what is it?” she said.
“I had an idea,” he said. “But . . . if it doesn’t work, just tell me, okay?”