When the waiter returns with our wine, we order entrees and mains without breaking conversation. I’m surprised by how thoroughly I’m enjoying myself. It isn’t awkward, it isn’t difficult, there aren’t any pauses or silences. Just interest. I haven’t felt this comfortable on a date in a long time. In fact, I haven’tbeenon a proper date like this in years.
This is nicer. And I’m fully prepared to admit that it’s because of the company. For someone who lives such a flashy lifestyle—the penthouse, the luxury hotels, the expensive wine, and hired drivers—Max is surprisingly down to earth.
Most surprising of all? He listens when I speak. And I know that it’s not because he only wants to get in my knickers. He nods and chimes in at all the right moments; we smile and we laugh.
When I tell him about growing up with a single mother, how she worked her arse off to put me through school and uni, his focus is unwavering. He digs deeper into my internship years and when I explain how I met Anna and April, he asks thoughtful questions.
“What’s your favorite thing about working at Prestige?” he asks.
I lift a brow. “I thought we weren’t talking about work tonight.”
“I’m not asking about the job,” he says. “I’m asking what you like.”
I roll my eyes. It’s a technicality and we both know it. “Lance.”
His brow furrows. “Your barista?”
I nod. “Yeah. He’s there every morning without fail. Always smiling. No matter how early it is or how dead I look. On the days when I’m stuck at my desk watching the clock, or Louise is being her usual cunty self—” He laughs. “I think of Lance. He reminds me that it’s not all meant to be this serious. Life’s about the little things.”
He hums in agreement. “It’s a fine quality.”
“He told me once that he makes his coffee with love,” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Said it was the secret ingredient.”
But my smile fades as quickly as it came.
“He’s always come across as so happy, so optimistic,” I murmur. “But the council hiked his rent. That’s why his prices have gone up. I know he’s struggling to keep up with the expenses, and I’m terrified I’ll walk past one morning and his kiosk will be boarded up. I feel like it’s only a matter of time…”
There’s a pause. Max’s hand finds mine across the table.
“I’m sure he loves seeing your smile as much as you love seeing his,” he says gently.
I take a sip of my wine.
“And how did you get into crystals and tarot?” he asks, swirling his wine, his eyes amused.
“Doom-scrolling on TikTok,” I deadpan. “One of my neighbors was so loud I could hear her from across the hall. I was desperate for quiet, I tried a freezer spell.”
He blinks. “What the fuck is a freezer spell?”
“You write their name on a piece of paper, stick it in water, and freeze it to shut them up. But whether it was a coincidence or not, I never heard a peep from her again.” My gaze drifts as I think. “Shit. Come to think of it, she was pretty old.” My eyes widen. “I hope she didn’t die.”
His eyes light up as he laughs.
“Oh, piss off,” I say, joining him. “You haven’t told me what you do for fun,” I press, leaning in. My dress shifts with the movement and I’m reminded of what I’m not wearing underneath. “You know I like to read. I told you about my tarot cards and crystals. You have to give mesomething.” I take another measured sip, enjoying the earthy flavors as the wine coats my mouth.
He shrugs. “I like to work out.”
I gag. “Oh God. That’s positively horrendous.”
“What? It’s good for you.”
“People always say that,” I huff.
“Because it’s true.”
“So is a pap smear, but you don’t see me jumping to book my next appointment.”
He raises his glass to his lips, grinning. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss it, you might enjoy it.”
