Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Max’s chest heaves. “That day was a turning point for me, too. That was the day I knew I could do this. I could be a father. A good one. A husband and a father.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “I realized I wanted to be both, more than anything.”
“Oh my goodness,” Mrs. Walters breathes.
Fuck. If the Walters weren’t here, I’d throw my arms around Max’s neck and unwisely confess all the shocking feelings I’ve been having for him since that precise moment. But since they are here, thankfully, I clear my throat and say, “Max isn’t telling you something important about that day. He’s not telling you there was a dark side to it. A very, very dark side.” When everyone staring at me looks adequately freaked out and fearful about what the fuck I could possibly be mean, I add ominously, “To this day, no matter how many times he showers, Max still has glitter in his hair from that day.”
Everyone, including me, bursts out laughing.
“It’s true,” Max says, sighing with relief. He bows his head. “Look closely and I’m sure you’ll find some pink and purple sparkles.”
Mr. Walters laughs and says, “Thankfully, all our kids are out of the glitter stage. But there was a time when I kept finding glitter on every item of clothing in my closet, no matter how much they got washed.”
We all commiserate with Mr. Walters’ story and question the wisdom of glitter being invented at all.
Mrs. Walters asks, “Are you two hoping to have a baby of your own someday?” And the minute the words leave her mouth, it takes every bit of restraint for me not to punch Max in the shoulder and scream, “Pay up, motherfucker! You owe me a hundred bucks!”
Max smirks at me, letting me know he’s well aware he just lost our bet. He says, “We’re actively trying, as a matter of fact. But if we’re not successful, we’ll both be perfectly happy with that outcome. I’d consider my life full and complete, if I get to spend the rest of it as Marnie’s husband and Ripley’s daddy.”
As I grab Max’s forearm to keep myself from keeling over, Mrs. Walters does what I wish I could have done to Max a moment ago: she punches her husband’s shoulder—although, granted, much more gently and playfully than I would have punched Max.
“Okay, honey. Calm down,” Mr. Walters says, laughing. He lays a palm on Max’s broad shoulder. “I’m told you specialize in patent law. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir. Both business and patent law. I’ve got both an MBA and JD from Stanford.”
What the fuck? No wonder Max is such a smart cookie about business stuff—because he’s got an MBA, along with his law degree. Why didn’t Max tell me he’s got two advanced degrees? That’s damned impressive. Surely, most men in Max’s shoes would have mentioned that fact within the first minute of meeting a woman in a bar.
With a beaming smile, Mr. Walters says to Max, “How would you feel about me telling Scott to assign you to work exclusively on my matters after camp? I think having someone around with your two areas of specialty, combined, would be invaluable to me.”
“It’d be a dream come true.”
“Consider it done, then.”
Max looks like he’s going to explode. “Thank you, sir. Mr. Walters. Wow. Thank you.”
“Wayne, please.”
“Wayne. Yes. I’ll work very hard for you, Wayne.”
“I don’t doubt it. Although, please, not so hard that you don’t spend quality time with your beautiful wife and little girl.”
Mrs. Walters lays her cheek on her husband’s shoulder and smiles at me. “Do you see why I love this man?”
“I sure do,” I say. “Thank you so much, to both of you. This is a dream come true for all of us.”
Mr. Walters inhales sharply, having a thought. “What are your feelings about relocating for work, Max? To Silicon Valley, specifically. Do you and Marnie want to stay in Seattle, no matter what, or are you open to a move like that?”
“We’re very open to relocating,” Max says excitedly.
“Absolutely,” I chime in. “I’m a private chef, so I can work anywhere. And Ripley is so young, she can still move anywhere and make new friends without missing a beat.”
“I’ve got a top team that works very closely with me in California,” Wayne says. “You’d still be employed by your firm, but you’d work alongside my in-house attorneys on high priority matters.”
Max looks like he’s about to explode. But he manages a fairly calm voice when he says, “That sounds amazing. Yes.”
Wayne explains the gist of the role he’s envisioning for Max—and he also makes it clear he’s offering this unique opportunity to Max, specifically, because he’s so damned impressed with him, both as a professional and as a person. The men chat for a bit until Mrs. Walters tugs on her husband’s sleeve and says they should probably tend to their hosting duties and sprinkle themselves around the party.