Chapter Ten
August 19th, 11:05 a.m.
T he crowded coffee shop buzzed with the hum of conversation and the hiss of espresso machines, but all Max could focus on was Paloma’s flirtatious question and the desire in her eyes. He leaned closer, instinctive as a river finding its path downstream. He couldn’t seem to move his hand resting on her cheek. Her skin was silk under his fingers, and every nerve ending screamed for him to pull her closer, to finally taste those lips that had been driving him wild.
“Professional,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth, “is the last thing I want to be right now.”
Someone bumped his back, knocking him forward half a step. “Sorry,” said a woman whose voice was vaguely familiar. He turned to Asher’s neighbor, Lilith.
Her auburn hair swept back in a wide headband, and she wore a light blue sundress. “Oh, Max. Hi.” Her gaze darted around, never settling on his face for more than a second.
The door dinged with a new customer, and Asher called, “Lil, grab the table by the—” he skidded to a stop. He looked from Max to Palom a. Her blue eyes turned artic, and the warmth of their earlier moment evaporated like coffee steam. “Hey, guys. What a . . . surprise,” he finished.
“Yeah, small world,” Asher replied, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Paloma’s smile was tight. “So, how are you finding our small town?” she asked in a way that said Lilith was and would always be an outsider. It also shouted that she wasn’t over Asher. Both reminded Max that all he’d ever be to her was a distraction until she got over or got back the man she really wanted.
“Friendly,” Lilith replied. Then, dropping her gaze, she added, “Mostly.”
“It’s a pretty welcoming place once you get past the small-town bullshit,” Asher said, his tone gentle but firm. He met Paloma’s eyes with quiet challenge. “Lilith’s been a great addition to the neighborhood.” He turned to Max. “Hope tells me you won’t be taking any landscape design projects from our construction company this summer. We’re disappointed. I’d rather have you than our backup designer. They’re decent, but let’s face it, not nearly as talented as you. What gives?”
“We . . . Paloma and I are exploring some new opportunities,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. “We’re working on a few joint projects together.” Even as he spoke, the weight of his existing clients and projects pressed down on him.
He genuinely enjoyed working with her, their minds often in sync, creating designs that neither could have conceived alone. But witnessing her reaction to Asher now, he wasn’t sure. Had he let his attraction cloud his judgment? Had he been too impulsive? Again.
Asher’s gaze moved between them. A hint of understanding seemed to dawn in his eyes. “I see,” he said slowly. “Well, I hope you know what you’re doing. ”
Max’s irritation shifted a little toward his friend. He wanted to explain, to justify his decision. But how could he when he suddenly wasn’t all that sure?
“It’s an exciting venture,” Paloma chimed in, her voice carrying a forced cheerfulness that grated on his nerves. A heavy, awkward silence hummed between them, somehow louder than the noise around them.
“I love what they’ve done with the café. The artwork is lovely,” Lilith chirped, probably hoping to brighten the mood.
“It’s not new,” Paloma said flatly. “It’s been here for years.”
“Right,” Lilith mumbled, her cheeks flushing deeper.
“We need to get our coffee to go,” Asher said flatly. “The girls will be finishing their horseback riding lessons shortly.
Paloma’s jaw clenched, then loosened. “That’s great that Lilith gets to meet your daughter.”
“Our daughters are best friends.” Asher rubbed the back of his neck, looking toward the door. He was probably debating if he should turn around and leave. Max couldn’t blame him.
Another tense silence fell between them. Lilith broke it, saying, “We should go. The girls…”
“See you around,” Asher muttered.
They left, but the awkwardness lingered like a storm cloud. A tangle of emotions Max couldn’t quite unravel twisted around him.
After the door shut behind them, Paloma mimicked in a deep voice, “My neighbor, Lilith.” Then said in her normal tone, “Asshole.”
A flare of irritation bloomed in Max, not only at Paloma’s spite but at himself for caring. Why did it bother him that she was still hung up on Asher? It’s not like they were a couple. And yet, the thought of being nothing more than a placeholder twisted his insides.
“They a re neighbors,” he snapped, immediately regretting his sharp tone but too annoyed to apologize.
“That’s not all they are,” she clapped back.
Asher wasn’t the kind of man to fool around on someone, even in a casual relationship. If he was interested in another, even slightly, he’d have broken things off first. “Then it’s good he ended it with you,” Max reasoned, hating how his voice caught on the words.
“Sure, fine. Defend him. Them.”
“He’s my friend.” And what exactly was Paloma to him? More than a friend, less than a lover, and apparently still into someone else. Did all their shared moments mean nothing to her beyond convenient comfort?
“And I’m not your friend?” she retorted.
“You are,” he said with false ease. And she’d stay in that lane, pining after Asher, while Max played the role of supportive friend, swallowing wants he couldn’t voice. “Who he’s dating isn’t our business.” Needing to focus on something besides his disappointment, besides the ache of being second choice, he pointed to the work proposal on the table. “What is, is our clients.” The familiar territory beckoned like a sanctuary. At least there, he knew exactly where he stood.
There was a quick flash of pain in her eyes before she shuddered her expression. “Good point. Work is all that matters to me.”
They sat. “So, uh, where were we before . . . all that?” he asked, waving at the scattered papers on the table.
Paloma blinked as if coming out of a daze. “Right. The Sterling account.”
“Yes, the Sterling account,” Max echoed, staring blankly at the documents. His thoughts were an untethered boat, drifting to his other accounts to Paloma’s unresolved feelings for Asher.
“Okay, let’s go over their changes,” he said with forced enthusiasm.
“Change s?” Paloma frowned, then nodded. “Oh, yes. Roy wanted minimalist. And Linda wants a beach vibe. I was thinking of a few tweaks in the conservatory.”
Max leaned forward, willing himself to focus. “And?”
“And, um.” Her gaze drifted to the door Asher and Lilith had exited through.
Max sighed. “Paloma, if you’re not up for this right now—”
“No, no,” she said quickly, snapping her attention back to him. “I’m here. I’m focused.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay, so the idea was to use contrasting imagery. Something that juxtaposes edgy elements with softer, more approachable ones.”
Max nodded slowly, attempting to be engaged. “That could work. Like, darker, sharper furniture with more flowering plants.”
“Exactly!” Paloma said, a hint of her usual enthusiasm returning. “Or we could—”
His phone buzzed, cutting her off. He glanced at it and sighed. Asher was a good guy, but right about now, a little distance would be nice.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
Max hesitated, then said, “It’s nothing. Asher texted. Apologizing for the awkwardness.”
Her shoulders tightened. “Such a nice guy,” she muttered.
“Let’s just . . .” He paused, exhaling slowly to control his rising frustration. “Can we get through this without commentary?”
“Okay,” she agreed, pulling her laptop closer like a shield. “Let’s push through.”
They bent over the paperwork again, but the earlier easy rapport had vanished, replaced by stilted conversation and long, uncomfortable pauses. He kept reading the same line over and over.
His gaze drifted to his phone, where voicemails and texts from his other projects sat urgent and unread. A tightness crept into his shoulders at the mounting workload. This partnership with Paloma, while exciting, was stretching him thin. Late nights and early mornings had already become the norm with the pineapple house. The Sterling project would make everything more difficult.
He glanced at Paloma, watching as she twirled a pen between her fingers. Her passion and creativity were undeniable, but right now, he was drowning in doubt. Was all this added stress and work truly worth it?
With a quiet sigh, he forced his attention back to the paperwork. Only time would tell if he’d made the right choice, but for now, all he could do was push forward and hope that the promise of their partnership would outweigh the complications of their personal lives.