4. MAX #2
The bitter coffee had my eyes peeled wide, on alert.
On an empty stomach, my arms were jittery.
I knocked the booklet on the ground, and as I leaned under the side of the table, I noticed something poking out from the underside of the booth seating, the same one I was now selfishly taking up as one person.
It was my business card.
The card I’d handed over to Benji.
The reason he hadn’t called.
The reason he hadn’t asked for that next time.
But then why wasn’t he here?
Why wasn’t he trying to find me again?
* * *
A day later, I sat in the same office, with the same men in their same suits—except for the lawyer, he once again appeared smiling in a new suit.
I respected that. I’d finally been able to go over the information, and they had some good ideas, but they were asking for far too much, and their user churn had grown, so while the growth was there, users were leaving their app too.
“I can invest more,” I told them. “But only a quarter of what you’re asking.
So I can’t sign this as it is. You’ll need to have it redrawn with the correct figures and the increase in equity.
If you approve.” Their smiling faces told me everything I needed to know.
It happened a lot, asking for more when they didn’t need it so they could get to the figure they wanted.
Their lawyer nodded. “It’ll be revised and you can sign this afternoon.”
“Perfect,” I said, looking to their founder, who reached out and shook my hand.
The lawyer stood. “If you reach out to me, and you can come by my office, I’ll give you the documents to sign.”
“Thompson he knew to go to the diner.
It was practically programmed into them whenever I called for a car. And I think I paid extra for it.
“I was hoping you’d find me,” he said.
I laughed. “And I hoped you’d find me.”
“I barely had any time,” he said, softly. “With work, exam prep, and all that, I—I actually went back to the diner, but it was busy, raining out, and I couldn’t immediately see you, so I left.”
“I thought I’d done something wrong,” I confessed. “It weighed on me, and I didn’t want to think you regretted our time together. I understand how intense a dynamic like that can be right off the bat.” He placed his hand out, fingers spaced, and my hand was a magnet, reacting, taking hold of him.
He squeezed my hand. “I didn’t think you’d come find me,” he said.
“Even though I practically told you everything about me. But I also thought maybe you did that as an aspect of the play, you know . . . that you were acting. I don’t hold it against you, I know you’ve got things going on, and the last thing you need is me getting in your way, or making you think I was just trying to become a sugar baby.
” He snorted at the phrase, then smiled.
“Not that I’d ever want to be one, it’s not really my vibe. ”
I took his hand and kissed the back of it, my lips pressed hard to his skin. “I wished I’d looked for you instead of you looking for me.”
He laughed hard. “And it wasn’t like I could go back to the club, not until the next non-member night.”
I shook my head. “That’s just unacceptable,” I said.
“Yeah, well, it’s all I can do right now,” he said.
“No,” I whispered. “Let’s try this again.” My heart beat hard. “I’ll pay for it. I want you there.”
“I’m not letting—”
“Good boys get rewards, and you’ve been waiting patiently,” I said.
Benji’s eyes flashed a glance to the driver, who might’ve been listening, but none of that mattered. I’d made my mind up, and now I had Benji with me, we were going to put that next time on the calendar, assuming he wanted that.
“Let’s talk it out over lunch,” I said, kissing his hand again. “Obviously, you can say no, and that’s fine.”
“No,” he let out. “I mean, no I’m not gonna say no, I’m—” He pushed his lips hard into a thin line, his cheeks immediately rosy. “I’d love to have lunch, and I’ll accept my reward.”
“Plural,” I told him, leaning in. “Rewards.”
We kissed, and he really was burning up at the cheeks.
I gave him one final good boy to watch him squirm in his seat, and then we arrived at the diner. It was just a few steps away, but before that, I forced him to put my number in his phone, on the off chance either of us were whisked away—by a strong breeze, or unexpected work call.
The second date night at the Playhouse was coming.