stood up. Her eyes sparkling. She had on a knit cap, too, and her hair spilled around her face, and she looked . . . she looked glorious. His heart began to thud in his chest. He had trouble finding his tongue.
“Oh! Did I catch you coming back from your mountain hibernation?” She touched the beard he had now because he couldn’t be bothered to shave. “Nice. Full and fluffy and may I say, very sexy.”
“What are you doing here?” he managed to ask.
She held out an arm and pushed her way through two excited bassets to hug him. “Hi, Max. It is so good to see you.” She put her arms around him and held him tight.
He stiffened at first, but then he smelled her perfume, and he felt her hair on his face, and her warmth, and he closed his eyes and hoped this wasn’t a dream.
She let go and took a step back.
Something in Max, which had been moored and had sprouted barnacles and had grown into a reef, broke free and began to drift. “You should have let me know you’d be in town. I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I had to come. You have my dog, and I’m going to need him.”
Max’s heart fell. “You’ve come for Baxter?”
“Sort of,” she said cheerfully. She slipped her hand into his and pulled him until he had to walk beside her. “Hey, remember that singer we heard at the Yard Bar?”
“What?”
“She had such a pretty voice and her music was so haunting.”
“I mean . . . yes, but—”
“Well, she has a horrible online presence. I’m talking caveman level social media.”
“I don’t—”
“I couldn’t get her out of my mind! I mean, can you imagine having that kind of talent and no one knowing about it? Her name is Suzanna Harper, by the way. Anyway, I called her up and told her that her publicity sucks, and at first, she was not appreciative of my frank assessment, but after we talked, she agreed that she could use some help. So I’m here. Helping her.”
“Wait, are you—”
“And Deja Brew,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Have you heard of them? They are opening six new stores in Austin with a flagship on Congress, and they put out a request for bids for a publicity campaign because they know they are going to need help to compete with Starbucks, right? Well, they thought my ideas were great, which they totally are, and I told them, the great thing about me, is that I never give up. I told them what Megan Monroe says, that if you want something, you need to ask for it, and I was asking for it, and they were, like, yeah, no, you’re pretty annoying in this—I’m paraphrasing of course—and I was, like, right, so think how effective I would be getting the word out. Oh! I almost forgot! I’m even doing some work for Victor. I’m doing all of his social media. He’s sworn it off. Finally, oh my God.”
Max stopped walking and made her look at him. “What’s going on? What are you telling me?”
“That I have two new clients!” she said happily. “The pay is not great—actually, it’s pretty awful, so I will not be able to drape you in diamonds. But for now, it’s enough to get by.”
Max became aware of a reverberation around him. It was the sound of his heart, thrumming away in his ears. “You may move back to Austin?”
She laughed. “Am moving back to Austin. Just as soon as you help me get out of New York. Will you help me? I’m going to live in my dad’s house for a couple of months while he gets it ready to put it on the market. Because, you know . . . he’s living with Mom. Oh! And I should definitely stress that I will be completely broke for a few weeks because I figure it’s going to cost me everything I have left in the bank to break my lease if I can’t sublet it. And, trust me, it is going to be tough to sublet because, man, is it a tiny little hellhole. There is not enough Megan Monroe in the world to get me to see that place as having any potential.”
All the things Max thought he’d lost were cropping up like rain lilies all around him. Little rain lily possibilities—he and Carly, their dogs. Their lives. “What about your job? It was the one you wanted.”