suggested, and not because he needed to see that dumb circle, but because he wanted to feel her shoulder pressed against his arm again.
They bent over her phone and looked at the pictures of circles as she swiped through. Her scent tickled his nose, reminding him vaguely of rain-soaked air.
“I tried everything. Instagram, blogging, art publications—you name it. And they were all like, never heard of this guy, and, seriously, what is this? Once, I asked Gordon what the circles represented to him and he got mad at me.”
“He got mad?”
“Furious! He said it was art and he shouldn’t have to explain art to anyone, including the woman he’d hired to promote his work.”
“Ouch,” Max said on her behalf.
“I didn’t take it personally. He’s just an asshole.” She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Max slipped his hand under hers and lifted it so he could see the picture on her phone again. “If I may offer the opinion of a brain scientist?”
“Please! I need the opinion of a brain scientist.”
“That,” he said, pointing at the screen, “is just a wooden circle.” He kept his hand under hers and grinned. “You are right.”
“How delightful! That’s not something I hear with enough regularity. Anyway, I quit him. What he wanted was a salesclerk to sit in a booth at the Pecan Street Festival. I wanted at least a little cooperation from him. But he wouldn’t give me any at all. So I quit.”
“Sounds like you made the right call.”
“No kidding,” she said. “He was so mad. And I haven’t told you the worst of it. Just before I quit, he . . .” She paused and looked sidelong at him, her blue eyes dancing with laughter. She was stifling a giggle.
He smiled. “He what?”
“I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this.”
Her giggle was infectious. He was chuckling, too. “Tell me what?”
“I walked in on him while he was diddling his housekeeper.” She slapped a hand over her mouth in pretend shock.
Max laughed. “No way!”
She nodded furiously, then told him the story, regaling him as if she were recounting a horror film she’d seen. “It was like Big Bird and his beak standing there,” she said with a shudder.
Max doubled over with laughter.
“Oh sure, yuk it up,” she said, laughing, too. “I can never unsee that, you know.”
“Sounds like you and Baxter have had quite a week.” In fact, the dogs, exhausted from racing around, had wandered back to the picnic table and were stretched out beneath it.
“We sure have. Right, Bax?” she asked, leaning over to look down at the dogs.
Her cheeks were rosy and the tip of her nose red, and a warm flush erupted in the center of Max’s chest and slid down to his groin. He realized he was staring at her mouth. His amygdala was tossing out dopamine willy-nilly into the wrong neurons, because his idea of kissing her would be an impulsive thing to do. He was spared from possibly embarrassing himself when a woman with bright red, unkempt hair and wearing a leaf green coat walked by with a pug. The pug barked at Baxter and Hazel, neither of whom were concerned enough to even bark back.
The woman jerked hard on the pug’s leash. “Stop that!” she hissed. “How many times have I told you that it’s rude to bark like that? They aren’t doing anything to you,” she said as she and the pug continued walking. “You have to stop barking at every dog you see. It’s rude.”
Max looked at Carly. She was struggling to keep from laughing. “Do you think her dog speaks English?” she whispered.
“I was just wondering the same thing,” he whispered back. “A talking dog, you think? But am I crazy? She reminds me of someone,” Max said. “Know what I mean? Animated character with the wild red hair.”
Carly gasped. “I know exactly who she looks like!” she whispered excitedly. “Poison—”
“Ivy!” he finished with her. “That’s it!” They both burst into laughter and high-fived each other. Max held on to her hand, and Carly fell into his shoulder again with a squeal of delight. Their laughter prompted Baxter and Hazel to crawl out from under the table and jump up, tails wagging, wanting in on the joke.
Carly caught her breath and wiped a tiny tear from under her eye. She had to lean down and physically keep Baxter from trying to climb on the table. When she did, she scooched away from Max. “More hot chocolate?” she asked.