“Wow,” she said finally. “Is it their writing you don’t like, or their opinions on food?”
“Their writing is pretentious,” Max said peevishly.
“Pretentious? From the guy who reads literature about medieval monks?”
“I just think they sound like, I don’t know,” Max went on mulishly, clearly warming to his argument. “Like some snooty guy who wears a cravat. Maybe he has slicked-back hair and a pencil mustache. Whatever it is, I don’t like it.”
Poppy laughed incredulously. “So you’ve gone fromI don’t know who that isto having a fully-formed mental image of this person, have you? There are hidden depths to you that I never would have imagined. Besides,” she added, “wouldn’t a secret restaurant reviewer have to look like a normal person in order to keep their secret status? I don’t think a pompous guy with a cravat could manage that. That’s as ludicrous as saying thatyoucould be a secret restaurant reviewer.”
Max’s eyes went as large as saucers, and Poppy quickly added, “No offense! I’m not comparing you to Aubrey Z., don’t worry. But seriously, you could never keep that kind of thing a secret. Everyone would be staring at you and begging for autographs. You’d have your own TV show.”
Although, now that Poppy thought about it, Max really didn’t seem to draw a lot of attention. Even his height alone should have been enough to get people noticing him, never mind his astonishingly good looks – and yet, the waitresses didn’t seem to have given him more than a cursory glance when talking to him. Which was super odd, given how she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.
Maybe they’re just consummate professionals,she thought.Unlike me, who is in danger of combusting whenever I get within ten feet of him.
In any case, Max seemed to be struggling to respond to her joking comment about him being a restaurant reviewer, and she decided to put him out of his misery.
“It’s okay, no more Aubrey Z. talk,” she said, holding up her hands. “It’s clear that they’re a sore spot for you. Change of topic.”
She thought for a moment. “So, what do you do for a living?”
Max’s face went from the briefest flash of relief to what Poppy could only describe asdownright horrorin the space of milliseconds.
What now?she thought in bewilderment.Is he actually writing the next great romance novel? Or maybe he’s unemployed. Well, if he is, then he’s in good company, at least.
“I just lost my job, myself,” she went on, trying to reassure him that if he was unemployed, then it didn’t bother her at all. A little alarm in her head started ringing, but she ignored it – she wanted to be honest with Max, even if it meant potentially putting him off. “Boss ran off with a bunch of embezzled money and left the rest of us to rot. So I’m enjoying my freedom for a few days before I embark upon the joys of job hunting.”
Max looked confused for a moment, like he was trying to take all of this information in while still worrying about having to tell her what his job was. But then clearly what she’d said sank in, because his expression became sympathetic.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, his voice genuine. “That’s bullshit, pardon my French. Did they catch the bastard?”
Poppy shook her head, even as her heart glowed with a happy warmth at the protectiveness in his voice. “No, she’s still on the lam. But as angry as I am about all of it, I have to admit that I’ma little grateful – if it hadn’t been for her, I never would’ve met you.”
She froze, her mouth stuck hanging open and refusing to obey her instructions toclose, dammit.
She hadnotmeant to say that.
Oh God,she thought.Have I blown it?
Max, for his part, was staring right back at her with those dark, dark eyes, looking as stunned as she felt.
“I’m sorry,” she managed to get out. “I didn’t mean to – I mean, not that I don’t like you – can we just… forget I said anything?”
Max continued to stare at her, and Poppy willed him to say something,anything, even if it was awful, just to put her out of her misery.
He opened his mouth –
“Oh! I didn’t realize you were here with someone!”
The waitress from earlier – Sylvie, according to her name tag – was standing by the table, holding a small box and looking strangely confused.
Poppy had to admit that Sylvie wasn’t the only one who was confused.Shewas confused by Sylvie’s confusion. Sylvie had been the one to offer her the seat at Max’s table – why would she not know that they were both here? Had she assumed that Max had already left? That had to be it.
Max looked up, also looking confused, not to mention somewhat wretched. There was clearlysomethinggoing on with him.
“These macarons are on the house,” said Sylvie, holding out the box to Poppy. “We’re testing out some new flavors, so if you happen to pass by here again while you’re in town, feel free to drop in and tell us which ones you like best!” Her eyes shone with mischief as she looked back and forth between Poppy and Max. “Maybe the two of you can enjoy them together.”
“Uh,” said Poppy, feeling a little overwhelmed. “I mean, thank you – that’s very generous. But we’re not –”
