Page 15 of Drunk In Love
“I’ll just pick up something quick. Maybe take-out,” I say. Max was a gym rat and typically worked out in the evenings. He’d invited me to go with him many times, but I always felt self-conscious at my size. I didn’t want to work out at his intimidating gym after the one and only disastrous time I went and it felt like the invasion of Instagram models.
“We haven’t gone to the diner in a long time. What do you say? It’s my treat.”
Maxwell’s expression looks so earnest that I can’t turn him down. “Okay, even though I thought you hated that diner,” I say as we start walking towards the station exit. Normally, we’d take the opposite exit to the parking garage to access our parked cars. This time we exit the building and wait to cross the street to the neon-lit, old-school diner.
“It’s definitely not my favorite, but since you love it, that’s why I offered.”
I suddenly felt shy but did not want to dwell on the fluttery feeling in my stomach.
When we arrive at the diner, it’s scarcely populated and we’re seated in a booth facing the rainy roads.
We head straight to the last booth since this diner is never picky about seating. We always pick this table with the large windows to our right. I knew exactly what I wanted, but Max took a few moments to peruse the menu.
A soft ping sounds from my bag and when I extract my phone, I see a message from Zach.
“Oh! Zach finally texted me back,” I say, checking the notification on my phone.
Maxwell doesn’t respond to the mention of Zach, only takes a long sip of his drink.
“So what did he say?” Max eventually asks.
I review the message where I asked about Franco and why he wasn’t mentioned in the preliminary meeting. “He said he forgot about the employee and that FJ had issues with him about attendance issues, nothing to do with his actual job performance.”
Maxwell only grunts a response. He’s been terse anytime Zach is mentioned and now I need to get to the bottom of it. “Okay, what’s up with you?”
“What?” Max asks, pushing the menu to the side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I raise a brow at him. “C’mon Max, it’s me. I know something is up. Every time I mention Zach, you get closed off. Is there a reason you don’t like him?”
Max sighs before answering. “I don’t have anything against the man. He’s Brandon’s friend, and I only really know him in passing, however…”
I wave him to go on, though I can see his hesitation. “What are you not saying?”
Max starts to speak, but the server comes and interrupts us. We both give our orders—pancakes for me and French toast for Max. After the water picks up the old, laminated menus, we are left alone again.
“Forget it,” Max says. “I know how you feel about Zach, and I will refrain from saying anything unkind about the man. However, I still have him on my list of potential people we need to look into regarding our assignment.”
“Understood,” I say, though I’m not convinced. There is more that Maxwell isn’t telling me.
We finish and Maxwell takes care of the bill. It’s very annoying that he refuses to let me pay for anything whenever we are out together, but I’ve ceased trying to strong-arm him with my credit card in hand before he can place his down.
Before we cross back to the other side of the street towards the station’s parking garage, Max’s expression gives me pause.
“Why do I get the feeling that you don’t want to say goodbye?” I ask him.
Max shuffles his weight before responding. “I’m still weirded out by earlier today, and we don’t know who could be trailing us. I just don’t feel comfortable knowing you’ll be alone without anyone looking out for you.”
I’m touched by Maxwell’s remark. It was part of our job that we never knew what kind of danger we could potentially be facing. My role mostly kept me in the office and out of sight, but this assignment we were tasked with had been anything but typical, and I want to make a good impression. I didn’t want to be considered too weak and unable to handle myself.
“What are you proposing? Spend the night at my place?”
Maxwell shrugs, but I can tell that’s exactly what he’s too apprehensive to say. “Yeah, I just feel uncomfortable about you being by yourself.”
I thought about the handful of times I fell asleep at Max’s place or him at mine after a movie night or dinner, when one of us was too full or exhausted to move. Spending a night at a friend’s house wasn’t a big deal, but with Maxwell, lately it felt like a much bigger deal than it should have.
On the other hand, if he was correct about us potentially being followed, then there was always safety in numbers.
“Okay, you can come over,” I say.