We’re stopped at another light, and I glance over to find him assessing me. “You’re not happy about him being at the wedding, and I can tell that you’re not still into him. He must have done something. Did he cheat on you?”
I shake my head. “Not that I know of.”
Silence follows, but I don’t fill it. Our car ride isn’t long enough for me to detail what Rick did.
“Are you taking a date to the wedding?” Max asks.
“No, and that’s my mom’s big problem, but I don’t need a new man in my life to prove I’ve moved on.”
“Sing it, sister.” Max holds up his hand for a fist bump, making me smile.
It’s nice to hear that this stranger agrees, but deep in my heart, even though I am one hundred percentnot interestedin Rick anymore, I can’t say I’ve truly moved on. I have no interest in moving on to someone new, and I don’t have the time or money to move on to a life I’d like to live. The best I can say is that I’m surviving, and truth be told, I don’t want Rick to see what he’s done to me.
“Does that mean you’re not dating anyone at the moment?”
Old habits die hard, because the flirtatious way Max asks this question sends a rush of heat to my core. I keep my voice level when I say, “No, I’m not dating anyone.”
“Your choice, I assume?”
“You’re full of assumptions, aren’t you?”
He shrugs, still grinning that gorgeous grin of his. “Am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong. Anyway, I was so distracted by the fact that I couldn’t get my car to unlock and I was getting soaked in the rain, that I really fucked up—excuse my language?—”
He waves his hand. “Feel free to detonate as many F-bombs as needed.”
“For some stupid reason, just to get her to stop nagging me, I lied and told her I was dating someone. I told her this person, who doesn’t exist, might not be able to attend, but of course, now that I’ve thrown her this bone, she’s not going to let it go.”
“Ahh,” he says again. “Why is it so important to her that you bring a date?”
I groan and let out a sigh. “I don’t know. Something about the seating arrangements being lopsided, and keeping up appearances. My sister’s fiancé’s family has money, and I think all of this is to impress Adam’s dad, when I’m sure Mr. Hargrove couldn’t give a flying fuck about seating arrangements, or any of the other minutiae my mom obsesses about.”
“Mr. Hargrove?”
“Yeah, I think he owns a shipping company, or something. I can’t remember. Why, do you know him?”
“I know someone with that name. What’s his first name?”
“Adam’s dad is … John, I think? Yeah, John Hargrove. He’s widowed, and I’m afraid that’s another reason my mom is trying so hard to impress him.”
There’s a pause before he asks, “Your mom’s trying to catch his eye?”
“I guess so. Seems kind of weird to me, wanting to date your daughter’s new father-in-law.”
“What does your sister think about that?”
My feet are still wet, so I turn the knob to send more heat toward the floor. “I think she’s ignoring the situation altogether, just trying to get through to the wedding without any more stress than my mom’s already causing.”
“Makes sense.”
Max is so agreeable, another thing that doesn’t fit with what I thought I knew about him from yoga class. “I’ve been talking too much about myself,” I say. “I don’t know anything about you, aside from the fact that you’re not very flexible. I’d never seen you around before you showed up in my class last week.”
“That’s because I’m new in town. Just moved here recently. Still getting settled.”
A memory surfaces: When he was in the sandwich shop the first time, he ordered two sandwiches. I glance at his hand; still no ring, but that doesn’t mean anything. “Do you have a wife, a girlfriend, a family?”
“None of that, or I wouldn’t be inviting you out to dinner, at least not without telling you my relationship status up front.”
