I think of the way he walked in with me as though I weren’t just the hired help, there to do a job. He’d been gentlemanly, proud, almost.
But that could have been a figment of my imagination.
“I don’t usually attend state dinners,” I reply, although that wasn’t the real reason I was nervous.
“Some of the guests were, shall we say, less than polite.”
“Oh, you mean Lord Blackwood? He’s nothing I can’t handle.”
I remember Lord Blackwood from childhood as a self-interested man my dad didn't like. They had some kind of professional rivalry that I didn't understand at the time but have since learned was around their respective businesses. I remember hearing him referring to him as “a snake in the grass” and my eight-year-old self-wondering how someone so portly could be a snake.
“You held yourself well.”
“You’ve got to when you’re a journalist who makes a living out of writing about people’s lives.”
“I imagine you do.”
“How did you enjoy yourself? Have you been DM-ing with your octogenarian today?”
He chuckles, his eyes dancing. “We’ve got a date next week.”
“I bet you do,” I tease.
This bantering is easy. Fun.
Dangerous.
“You have a way with people, Max. I’ve seen it before, but I’ve not really written about it, other than saying how charming you can be.”
“Charming? I thought you said I was flirting.”
“I’ve been told recently that those are two different things.”
We share a smile, the intensity in his rich espresso eyes trained on me making my belly perform a somersault.
“Oh, I’m so glad I captured this,” Pippa says from across the aisle, her phone pointing in our direction.
We both turn to look at her.
“Captured what?” I ask.
“Your interaction, of course. It’s gold!” she says.
“What’s gold, exactly?” Max asks.
“You’ve got this whole ‘will they, won’t they’ thing going on. Like Ross and Rachel fromFriends,” she replies.
Oh, good grief.
“I really don’t think—” Max begins at the same time as I say, “That’s totally crazy.”
“Are you sure? Because my phone says otherwise,” Pippa replies, waving her phone in the air.
The surrounding air thickens, and I can’t look at Max.
“May I take a look at your footage?” he asks.
“Of course.” Pippa hands over the phone, and I wait as Max reviews the video, wondering whether it does infact have the vibe Pippa mentioned. Because from my perspective at least the only answer to the questionwill they, won’t theymust be a firmthey cannot.
