20. Theo
20
THEO
I wondered if inviting Chef Garcia to cater our little dinner meeting was too much.
Max was coming over to get my input on which photos she should submit to the internship program along with her application. Since it was close to dinnertime, I had figured a meal wouldn’t hurt. I was craving Peruvian food, so why not get the best? I could hear Chef moving around the kitchen as I paced, waiting for Max to arrive.
I still couldn’t make sense of her strange reaction at the wedding dress shop. She seemed a little deer-in-headlights by the end of it, and it was obvious she wasn’t being honest when she’d said she was fine. I wasn’t going to pry, but I sure as hell wished I could understand what was going on inside her beautiful head.
The door buzzer sounded, and I had to keep myself from running to answer it. Yeah, I was excited to see her again. Sue me.
“Hey,” I said, opening the door.
And there she was, incandescent as always, in a black t-shirt dress and white converse instead of her motorcycle boots for a change. Bare-faced, hair scraped up in a messy ponytail and more beautiful than any model I’d ever known.
“Hiya,” she gave me a little wave. “I hope you’re ready to get overwhelmed.”
A shadow passed over her face as she said it. There it was again, the unknowable Max I wished I could decipher.
“And I hope you’re hungry,” I pointed over my shoulder toward the kitchen. “Early dinner is underway. Ceviche de camarones and lomo saltado .”
She placed her stuff on the long table in the hall. “You’re cooking?”
“Not this time,” I shook my head. “My friend Chef Garcia is taking care of us.”
“Hold on … you hired a chef to cook for us? For this ?” she gestured at her laptop bag.
“I had a craving,” I replied with a shrug. “And I get what I want.”
“You don’t say.” She laughed but it didn’t sound cheerful.
“What’s wrong with that?” I asked.
“Absolutely nothing. You do you.”
She’d crossed her arms and was staring at me. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, this semi-confrontational stance she was taking over something as simple as a meal. I opted to ignore it.
“Anyway, let’s set up at the table. Drink?”
“Please. Since we’re having seafood, I’ll take a glass of white wine.”
I moved to the bar in the corner of the room as Max got set up at the long table, pulling an oversized leather portfolio from her bag and setting up her laptop. It was definitely going to be a working dinner, but I didn’t mind.
I just appreciated the chance to spend time with her.
“Looks like we have a lot to choose from,” I said as I walked to the table holding two glasses of wine.
Max took the glass from me but kept her eyes trained on a black and white photo of a wave crashing against rocks. “Yeah. I’m so torn about what to do. Your input is really going to help.”
Chef bustled out of the kitchen holding two massive bowls and placed them in front of us, then disappeared before I could even introduce him to Max.
“Okay, now I understand why you hired a chef. This is amazing,” Max said.
“He’s the best of the best,” I agreed. “Now let me take a look at your book.”
Max was busy stuffing food in her mouth and making little satisfied noises as she pushed the binder toward me. Good . Making her happy made me happy.
“Are you kidding me?” she moaned as she picked a piece of shrimp from the bowl. “This might be the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“You’re welcome.” I winked at her and she threw her napkin at me.
We sped through both courses, killing the bottle of wine in no time. Between bites, we worked our way through her portfolio and moved on to her online photo collections. And yet, we were no closer to making a decision about which photos to use. The problem was that Max couldn’t seem to take a bad photo. Her eye was impeccable. She could turn the most basic subject into something museum-worthy just by switching up the framing or focal point, so that a shot of discarded bottlecap on the boardwalk looked like a still life. There were a few photos of the beach I could imagine hanging on my walls.
“Why do you want this internship?” I asked her. “What more do you need to learn? I mean, look at this,” I said, holding up an image of the moon reflected in the still ocean. “You’ve got the composition, the color, the mood … you should be the teacher, not the student.”
Max blushed. “There’s always more to learn. And besides, any affiliation with Richard Adams is basically a career speed pass.”
“I know his name, but I can’t say I know his work. Show me your favorite shot of his.”
She tapped on her phone then handed it to me. The black and white image on the screen was of three nude women, draped around one another so that the shape they collectively formed mirrored the mountain range behind them. The models were carefully arranged so their legs and hands covered most of their nudity, but if you looked quickly, it seemed as if you could see everything. It was a stunning image but nothing like what Max created. I scrolled through the photographer’s web site and saw photo after photo of beautiful women, both famous and unknown.
“Okay he’s obviously great. But I don’t understand why you think you need to learn from him. His focus is the female body. Yours is nature.”
She screwed up her face as she considered it. “I guess? But a good image is a good image. And I feel like I could use more help with my photos of people. It would be amazing to consider him an ally.”
“So is this internship more political, or skills-based?”
“Both,” she answered without hesitation. “And it wouldn’t be possible without your help. Your financial support,” she clarified quickly. “I truly appreciate it.”
I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the way her comment shifted the vibe from two people hanging out and enjoying one another’s company to a business transaction. But of course, it was a business transaction. That was what we’d agreed on.
“Yeah, of course,” I said. “And you’re helping me out too. It’s an even exchange.”
“Speaking of, any news from Ford?”
I shook my head and felt tension cinch between my shoulder blades. “Not yet. I think the last episode with Pam really set me back.”
“Is it worth it?” Max asked me pointedly. “Is Pam going to keep butting in if you guys end up moving forward with the partnership?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think she will. She doesn’t actually care about the business side of things. And once the contract is signed, I’ll basically be able to avoid her until she loses interest.”
Max drew her legs up on the chair and circled her arms around them. “Well, that’s good, since you won’t have me around to run interference for you.”
It was the truth, but that didn’t mean I liked thinking about it. Our expiration date was always in the back of my mind, and it impacted me more than I was willing to let on.
“I should be fine without your muscle,” I said, trying to sound lighter than I felt. “I can be very intimidating when I need to be.”
Max shuddered. “Trust me, I’ve seen glimpses. When you woke me up on the Brilliance ? Yikes.”
The reminder of where it all began, where we began, sent a shot of warmth to my heart. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh, now he apologizes,” she teased me. Then she smiled. “It’s fine. Technically, I was a stowaway.”
“A very talented stowaway,” I replied, pointing to her open portfolio. “Speaking of, we still haven’t made any decisions.”
She glanced at her phone. “The night is young, it’s only seven.”
I hoped that the night would continue in bed. Neither of us had said anything about whether she’d spend the night—or how we’d spend it, once work was out of the way—but there were little tells about how we were both feeling, like the way Max kept finding excuses to touch me, that convinced me I’d get her clothes off sooner or later.
“The moon shot is my favorite,” I said. “Definitely include that one.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little … basic?”
I started to answer but Max’s phone interrupted us. She glanced at it.
“I don’t recognize that number. Probably spam.”
A few seconds after it stopped ringing, it started up again. “Should I?” She turned the screen so I could see the number.
“It’s a Miami area code. Might be one of your model friends?”
She answered and her face fell immediately when she heard the voice on the other end. “Whose phone are you using?”
Max stared off into the distance as she listened, like I wasn’t in the room.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Max replied, frowning. “The one on 5 th , right? Okay, wait there.”
She disconnected the call and started gathering her things. “I need to go.”
“Is everything okay?”
Max paused but didn’t look at me. “Family stuff, as usual. My mom and Nick were going to cook a nice dinner, so they went to grocery-shop together and they got into a fight over something stupid. She said it was a big one, people actually intervened. He took off with her purse in the car and left her at the grocery store. She had to use some random guy’s phone to call me.”
“Shit, Max, that sucks. I’m sorry. Want me to come with you?”
She shook her head as she stuffed her laptop in her bag. “No need.”
I wasn’t about to let her get involved with anything dangerous. “If he’s that agitated, he could come back and cause trouble,” I said gently. “It might be good to have me there, just in case.”
She paused and dropped her head. “Yeah, okay. You’re right,” she said softly. Max finally met my eyes. “Sorry. I know this is more than we agreed to.”
Again with the arrangement. Did she really think I was keeping score like that?
“It’s fine,” I replied. “You need help, I can provide it. Let’s go.”
As much as I wanted to reach out and take her in my arms, to try to erase the worry from her expression, I followed her to the door with my itchy hands clutched at my sides.