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The tires of the rental car crunched down the gravel driveway as Ginny parked behind her father’s pickup. To say the trip was long would be an understatement. She’d dealt with podcast fatigue, indigestion from one too many cups of coffee, and a little road rage as she merged onto I-70. But she arrived in one piece, so overall it felt like a victory.
Before her feet were on solid earth, she heard her father on the porch. “Ginnybread!” he called, opening his arms for a hug. She left her things in the car and sprinted toward him. After over ten hours behind the wheel, her legs felt stiff and awkward. Her father’s arms enveloped her, and suddenly her throat was tight.
“It’s good to see you, Dad.” She breathed into his cable-knit sweater. He smelled like the holidays, piney with a hint of cinnamon. From over her shoulder, Ginny heard the TV blasting ESPN. In addition to needing new hips, her father could probably stand to get a hearing aid, but she wouldn’t press her luck right now. One medical issue at a time, please.
Harold Meyer kept his arms around his daughter. “I guess that’s the good thing about you living outside Buckeye Falls—the hugs are longer.” Just as Ginny opened her mouth to argue, her father’s chest rumbled with a laugh. “I’m only teasing you,” he promised. “You think I don’t like bragging about my hotshot daughter at the community center?”
Ginny stepped back and ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m not sure how much your neighbors care about my marketing career.”
Harold shrugged. “They’re your neighbors too. Plus, they’re proud of their girl making good in the world.” Taking a step forward, he leaned on the railing to catch his balance. His lips dipped down as he tried to cover a scowl.
Splaying her hands in front of her, Ginny stopped him. “Oh, no you don’t. Get back inside. I’ll get my stuff.”
With a dramatic eye roll, Harold took another step down. “What’s the point of having this surgery if I can’t wear out my hips helping my daughter?” He eased down onto the driveway and followed Ginny to her car. She knew he wouldn’t leave it alone, so she handed him her cosmetic bag and purse. “Either you’re packing light, or you’re insulting your father’s manhood.”
Ginny shook her head. “I’ve got the rest. Go inside and pour me a glass of that eggnog I know you have simmering.” While she wasn’t the most festive person in Buckeye Falls, Ginny knew her dad’s eggnog was legendary. When their family was cut down to two, certain traditions remained in the Meyer home. Eggnog throughout December was one of them. Ginny promised herself she’d check the medicine cabinet for her father’s cholesterol pills. She was here to play nurse, and she’d own the role.
Harold beamed, the skin around his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “I already have your favorite mug ready.” He turned and started lumbering up the porch. Ginny took a moment to watch him, feeling her heart pull in her ribcage. As much as she hated to admit it, they were both getting older, and time was precious. During her time in New York, she’d made sacrifices in the name of her career, ones she didn’t regret but still gave her pause.
After dragging her two suitcases into the house, she wheeled them toward the stairs and met her father in the kitchen. The tiny space was a time capsule to Ginny’s childhood, complete with the old wooden table and chairs, almond-colored refrigerator, and aging stove. She hung her coat on the back of a chair and helped with pouring a mug of eggnog.
“This smells heavenly.” She slurped from her mug and raised an eyebrow. “You changed the recipe.” It wasn’t a question.
Harold lowered his gaze and gestured toward the living room. “Uh, yeah. I added a little mace. Let’s have a seat and catch up before dinner.” Ginny’s father wasn’t usually cagey, so she knew something was up. She perched on her side of the couch and looked at the fire roaring in the stone fireplace, knowing if she gave him time, he would come clean with whatever he was thinking.
Two stockings hung on the mantel; a third nail still sat empty. Ginny wouldn’t think about the owner of that third stocking. Well, technically, there were two owners, but she wasn’t going there either. Despite the booming sound of sports TV, Ginny could hear the ghosts of Christmases past if she closed her eyes: the gentle laugh of her mother and the low rumbling chuckle of Max. So much for not going there. The ghosts of her past would need to wait.
“The fire feels amazing.” Ginny leaned back and surveyed the Christmas cards on her father’s bookcase. The cheery cards ranged from nativity scenes to plump snowmen wishing glad tidings. Her mind flashed to her apartment back in New York, and she tried not to grimace at the thought that no Christmas cards waited for her return. She hadn’t even bothered with decorating the tiny space, as she knew no one would see it. Way to bring down the mood, she chastised herself.
Forcing herself to stay in the moment, Ginny surveyed the rest of the shelf. Situated front and center sat a framed photo that caused her breath to catch. “Why is my wedding picture up?” She rose and slowly walked toward the offending object, as if the memories would bite her. Racking her brain, Ginny struggled to remember if that picture had been up during her last visit home. She’d bet good money it hadn’t been, and it bothered her to see it now.
Harold eased onto his cushion and winced before adjusting his back. “I’m sorry, Ginnybread. I was pulling out old decorations and found it. You look so beautiful and happy. I meant to put it away before you got home.”
Ginny spun on her heels so quickly, she nearly spilled her eggnog. “I’ll take care of it later.” She gingerly flipped the frame face-down with her index finger, as if touching too much of the image would scald her. Divorce, either hers or her parents’, was not a popular topic of conversation in the Meyer home. Harold knew the basics of why Ginny left, but she’d purposely kept the details to herself. It was no one’s business why she made the choices she did. Well, she supposed Max deserved an honorable mention on why their marriage ended. There will be plenty of time for soul-searching (with or without) Max later ... she mused.
Standing in the living room, Ginny searched for something to pull her back to the here and now. Her bags weren’t even unpacked, and she was falling back into memories and overthinking all the reasons she’d left. First—and her personal favorite—she and Max were workaholics. Two workaholics could not possibly live happily under the same roof. One of them was always busy, and the other resenting them for not being available. She’d seen it happen one too many times, and she’d decided to move on before things got too ugly. It was so easy taking each other for granted.
The other reason for the dissolution of their marriage was a little more nuanced ... and a lot more painful. As Ginny spun around and surveyed the rest of the photos and knickknacks, a certain person was missing from everything. There were no mementos linked to Ginny’s mother. No old wedding snapshots of Harold and her, not even a family photo documenting their early years. Her mother had made a choice to move on, and both Ginny and Harold had respected it in their own way. Or she should say, they eventually respected it.
Desperate for a distraction from thoughts of Max and her mother, she pointed to a tray of cookies on the coffee table in front of him. “You’re baking now?” Ginny laughed, taking a sugar cookie and shamelessly dunking it in her mug. It was universally known that sugar could temporarily solve all problems—even the emotional landmines of divorce.
Her father chuckled and sipped from his mug. “No, the ladies’ church group brought these over. You know, the women from St. David’s.” Of course, she didn’t really know, but Ginny dutifully nodded and nibbled on the treat. “Susan Windom, you might remember her son, Greg, she brought them over this morning when she heard you were visiting. And my friend Mona dropped off some cinnamon bread for us to have for breakfast.” Something shifted in her father’s expression at the mention of Mona, but she was too absorbed in his words to register what it meant.
Ginny’s hand froze in front of her mouth, a cookie crumb plopping into her mug. “You told people I was coming back?”
“Sure. Everyone at the community center was asking who was going to take care of me. Is that a problem?” His tone was casual, but Ginny didn’t miss the glint in her father’s eyes. He was up to something.
Ginny recovered, downing the rest of her eggnog and nearly choking on the lost piece of cookie. “Nope, all good.” She put the mug on the coffee table and paced to her suitcases. “You mind if I unpack a little before dinner?” When they were in the kitchen, Ginny had seen the slow cooker and smelled her father’s chili. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of the spicy stew.
Harold nodded and turned his attention to the blaring TV. “Take your time. You know chili; it’ll last forever.” Ginny listened to the dueling sportscasters until she reached the top of the stairs and closed the door to her childhood bedroom.
Being back in her hometown always brought a mixed bag of emotions. Ginny was happy to see her dad, but there were so many painful memories housed in these four walls. Sometimes Ginny would lay awake and replay some of the defining moments of her life, over-analyzing each second of heartbreak. Shaking herself, she tossed her suitcases on the bed and started unpacking.
Considering what she usually wore in the city, Ginny knew she’d packed light. Power suits and sky-high heels were still in New York. Instead, she had yoga pants, sweaters, and her favorite pair of worn jeans. The reason for this visit dictated that comfort would reign supreme.
Next week, Harold was scheduled for a hip replacement. He’d put off the procedure until his joints were worn down, making walking so painful he would grimace with every step. Ginny had tried to talk him into surgery the year before, after one of his rare visits to the city.
They had been walking arm-in-arm through Central Park when he’d spotted an open bench and begged her for a rest. Watching the pain in her father’s features had been all she needed to know the time had come for the surgery. Since he refused to have it done outside Buckeye Falls, it had taken months for a spot to open with his local doctor. Ginny had complained, more than she probably should have, that there were hundreds of qualified doctors in New York. Harold could recover in the city and she could work from home. But as he usually does, Harold dragged his feet and insisted on waiting. It was his body, so she gave up the fight.
Ginny walked to the closet and opened the doors. She surveyed the contents and was about to hang up her clothes when she saw something in the corner. A glint of red sparkled in the fading daylight. “What in the world?” she asked, pulling the garment free. It was a full-length red dress, covered in sequins that sparkled red and gold. The frock looked slightly familiar, but Ginny wondered what it was doing in her childhood closet. The tags were still on, and it was from one of the local boutique shops. A distant memory nibbled at the corners of her brain, but she couldn’t place where she knew the dress from.
Below her, Ginny heard her dad pottering in the kitchen. She would ask about the dress during dinner. She would also ask why his eggnog tasted different and why he insisted on placing her wedding picture back on display. The mere thought of her ex’s name caused Ginny’s heart rate to spike. It was a ludicrous reaction, one she blamed on being back in Ohio.
After hanging the last of her things in the closet, Ginny slid her suitcases under the bed and headed downstairs. Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard her father talking. “Yes, she got here an hour ago. Thanks for checking.” Her father’s back was to her, but she saw the landline phone in his hand. There was a pause while the other caller spoke. “I will, son. Talk to you soon.”
Son? There was only one person her father called son. “Dad?” Ginny stepped into the kitchen, frowning at her father. “Who was that?”
Harold hung up the phone and turned back to the counter. “Just a friend checking in,” he said casually, too casually for Ginny’s liking. “Take a seat, it’s time for dinner.”
Ginny did as she was told and settled into her chair. While her father scooped up bowls of chili and covered them in cilantro and shredded cheese, Ginny took in the space. There were a few new items that caught her attention, one being the fancy set of utensils she spotted on the table. Gone were the old spoons she remembered eating chili with on her last visit, and in their place were shiny new ones.
“New utensils?” she asked when her father returned to the table with their meals. “Looks pretty fancy,” she observed.
Harold shrugged and tucked into his chili with gusto, barely letting it cool. “Gift from a friend.” Ginny nodded but waited for more. Together they sat in companionable silence and ate their dinner before Harold finally started talking. “They were a birthday gift. From Max.”
Ginny was surprised she didn’t choke to death when Max’s name filled the space. “What? He’s still giving you presents?” She was incredulous.
Their divorce had been finalized two years ago. As far as Ginny was concerned, Max had no reason to give her father gifts or remember his birthday. The notion that he remembered, that he still cared, did funny things to her belly, which had nothing to do with the spicy chili.
Harold sipped from his glass of water and finally met her gaze. “Max and I have dinner every Tuesday night. It’s the night the diner is closed, and we’ve made it a habit. I know you won’t like it, but I’m tired of keeping it from you. I’m sorry I did, Ginnybread.”
Ginny let her spoon clatter to the table. “He asked you to lie to me?”
Raising his hands, her father shook his head. “No, he wanted me to be honest with you from the start. But I know you, and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or put you in an awkward position.”
“My dad is having weekly dinner dates with my ex-husband. Forgive me if I feel put out.” Ginny hated the tone of her voice, sounding like a haughty teenager. Her father was free to do what he liked, to see whom he liked, but it didn’t mean she had to like it. Ginny balled up her napkin and tossed it onto the table. She had to focus on the trembling of her bottom lip, which was dangerously close to letting a sob out.
Harold wiped at his mouth and let Ginny have her moment. When she’d slowed her breathing, he rested his hand on hers. “Ginnybread, I’m sorry I kept our dinners a secret from you. Frankly, I didn’t see the point in upsetting you long distance.”
Ginny swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. She hated that her eyes were misting over; she hated that, once again, Max was the source of her tears. “It’s fine, Dad. I’m sorry I’m acting like a child about the whole thing.” She leaned forward and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “You’re an adult who can make his own friends.” When they pulled apart from their embrace, Ginny met his eye. “But please, don’t invite him over while I’m here. I’m not back home for him—I’m here for you.”
There was a flash on Harold’s face, a look of panic that quickly dissipated. Ginny had so many questions, so many emotions churning through her. Had Max been stopping by since she’d left, or was this a recent thing? Why was he calling to check up on her? And what was the story with the red dress in her closet? Ginny knew something was up, and it pained her that she had no idea what.
*
Max stood in the walk-in fridge, his cell phone still pressed to his ear after Harold had hung up. Why on earth had Max called to check in on Ginny? Her plans didn’t involve him anymore, and they hadn’t for a while. But, dammit, there was a part of him that still worried about her driving all the way back from New York. Still worried that she wouldn’t pay attention to the icy roads when she crested the hills of Pennsylvania. Ginny would get inside her own head, forgetting to concentrate on her surroundings. All bets were off if she were listening to a podcast.
Max told himself he was only calling for Harold’s sake, just to make sure his friend’s daughter arrived safely for her visit. But for all his denial, Max knew the real reason he’d called. He knew the real reason he was hiding away from his staff. Every time he fell down the Ginny rabbit hole, he turned into a shell of himself. If he had a nickel for each instance he’d obsessed about something he did or didn’t do during the last year of their marriage, Max could build five more restaurants and still have money to buy a boat and sail around the world—twice.
Those last months together were bleak, to put it mildly. Max had dove head-first into getting the diner together for a grand reopening. He’d bought the place for way under asking price and was committed to getting it back to its former glory. Always a nameless local institution, the diner was the center of Buckeye Falls. It was the first place he and his family dined when they moved, and it was the first place Max remembered taking Ginny for proper dates. Making the diner his—and more importantly giving future Buckeyes a chance to make their own memories—had become an unhealthy obsession; an obsession he thought Ginny understood.
At the time, he liked that Ginny was busy with her own marketing career. Missed meals and phone calls added up while he was in the kitchen cooking and menu planning. The stolen moments he’d appreciated when they both came home from work had morphed into emotional land mines. What Max saw as working for a future together, Ginny had seen as moving forward alone.
“Snap out of it,” Max chastised himself. No good could come from this type of soul-searching now, especially when he was at work.
Just as he reached for the handle, the door swung open and Evan let out a sigh of relief. “Found him!” he shouted over his shoulder to CeCe, who stood with her hands on her hips and a stern expression.
Max tucked his cell phone back into his pocket and brushed past Evan like he was on a mission. “Sorry, I’m looking for another bunch of parsley.” Instantly, he realized his mistake when CeCe glanced at his empty hands.
“Top shelf on the right, next to the celery and carrots.” She gave him a look that spoke volumes. That was the price for working with staff long term: they knew everything.
Fortunately for Max, Evan couldn’t read the situation. “Hey, Max?” he asked, looking down at his feet. “I kind of screwed up and need your help.”
Before he asked what happened, Max looked back to CeCe and saw her expression shift. “What’s up?”
Evan scuffed at the tiled floor with his sneaker and sighed. “I accidentally spilled a glass of iced tea on a customer.” Crimson stained the young man’s cheeks as a flush crept up his neck.
Max let out a sigh of relief. “That’s all right, accidents happen. We’ll pay for their meal and any dry cleaning. Do you need me to talk to them?”
Evan’s shoulders slumped as the weight of his issue melted away, but CeCe wouldn’t bury the story. “I think you’re missing the headline here, Evan.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at her coworker. The poor guy didn’t speak, but his cheeks looked like they wanted to burst into flames.
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” Max said, looking between his staff for answers. “What’s going on?”
CeCe stepped forward and whispered, “He spilled it on Mayor Snyder.”
Max felt his concerns over Ginny evaporate as CeCe’s words sunk in. “Crap,” he said, running his hand down his face. The situation warranted stronger language, but he didn’t want to make Evan feel worse.
Mayor Anthony Snyder had been a thorn in Max’s side for years. Nearly the same age, and former football teammates, Anthony and Max used to be friends. That was until there was a development bid to move the highway exit for Buckeye Falls, which would have killed the diner’s business, as well as some other Main Street establishments. Max had led the call to stop the plan and stick with the current exit. Anthony’s father was still the mayor at the time, but bad blood was bad blood. Keeping things the same had cost the mayor and his son a lot of money, a fact he was quick to throw in Max’s face any chance he got. What the mayor didn’t know was how much Max lost in the transaction. Not wanting to bother Ginny with the details, he’d kept his head down and focused on the end goal. All the time he’d spent working on the plan had come at a cost: his marriage.
Frankly, Max was surprised Anthony even bothered coming to the diner at all. Then he remembered it was pot roast night and that brought out all the locals—including surly public servants. No one could resist his family’s pot roast recipe, or the apple crumble CeCe made for dessert.
Max clapped a hand on Evan’s back and sighed. “Go back behind the grill and make sure nothing is burning.” He turned to face CeCe. “You help him. I’m going to go get a tongue-lashing from our favorite elected official.”
Evan nearly sprinted toward the grill while CeCe rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, Max.”
Max shrugged, willing his heartbeat to stop racing. Between this turn of events and having Ginny back in town, he was not in his element. “S-stuff happens,” he muttered as he stepped into the dining room.
As soon as Max was out on the floor, he was greeted with a sight that brought his blood to boiling. Mayor Snyder stood by his booth, widely gesturing to his gray suit. “It’s probably ruined.” He sighed at no one in particular. His wife, Natalie, a petite blonde—who spent more money on her hair color than Max did on clothes for a year—sat with her face shielded by her hand. The diamond of her wedding ring sparkled in the fluorescent lights. At least someone seemed embarrassed by the display.
Max walked past five tables before he made it to the mayor. The other diners hungrily followed Max’s path to confrontation. Clearing his throat, Max planted his feet shoulder-width apart and waited for the mayor to notice his entrance. After another show of blotting the near-invisible stain on his pants, he turned and frowned at Max.
Striving to appear professional, Max extended his hand to the mayor. “Good evening, Mayor. So pleased to see you here tonight.” His hand stayed empty as Anthony threw his napkin on the table. It landed with a soggy thud.
“Spare me the polite customer service routine, Max. What are you going to do about this disaster?” With a flick of his wrist, the mayor motioned toward the table. Their plates were cleaned, showing that while the wet lap was a nuisance, the food was clearly not the problem. A pile of soaked paper towels was stacked on the edge of the table, indicating Evan’s attempts at cleaning up.
Max kept his voice loud enough so the onlookers could hear his side of the interaction. “I’ll be happy to pay for the dry-cleaning costs, Mayor Snyder. And, of course, your meal is on the house. CeCe will box up a few slices of pie for you, Natalie, and the kids to enjoy at home.”
The mayor gestured to his wife, who still looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there. “You think pie is going to make up for this ruined evening?”
Ignoring Anthony for a moment, Max eased into the opposite side of the booth to address the embarrassed woman. “Natalie, I’m very sorry if your evening was less than satisfactory. Is there anything else we can box up or prepare for you? If memory serves, you’ve always enjoyed our eggnog milkshakes.”
Last year at the Christmas Jubilee, both Snyders indulged in CeCe’s decadent creation. Rumor has it, it was the first time a carb had passed Natalie’s lips in three years. “Thank you, but ...” Her words were cut off when the mayor leaned over the table. Just as he opened his mouth to argue, Natalie finished her sentence. “I’m stuffed with pot roast and need to get my baby home.” It was clear from her sarcasm that she didn’t mean baby as a term of endearment. Looking at the mayor now, he did resemble a toddler who was told they couldn’t have cookies for dinner.
CeCe joined the trio and handed over a bag filled with small to-go boxes. “Here we go,” she said in a cheery voice that didn’t fool Max. “I have two slices of apple pie, two of cherry, and half a dozen of our gingerbread cookies. We sure do appreciate your kindness about all of this.” The two women were friends, and Max knew Natalie would be apologizing to CeCe for weeks about this.
Max had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. CeCe had managed the situation beautifully, and if the mayor wanted to get reelected next year, he needed to play it cool. Natalie reached out to take the bag, holding it protectively to her chest. “Thank you, CeCe. This is more than generous. I’ll be sure to share with the kids when we get home.” She winked, proving the kiddos would have to battle it out for the last piece of pie.
Next to him in the booth, Max found Natalie’s coat. He held out the designer garment. “Let me help you get bundled up. It’s barely forty degrees outside.”
The mayor had no choice but to step aside as his wife stood. She placed the bag on the table, protecting it with her body. She clearly wanted those sweets. Max helped her shrug on her coat and smiled. “Thank you,” she said. In a hushed tone, she continued. “I’m so sorry about this.”
Unfortunately for everyone, the mayor had heard and stomped his foot. “Don’t you dare apologize. We’ve done nothing wrong. I want that kid fired. If he can’t handle the simple act of pouring liquid, he shouldn’t have a job.”
Now Max’s hackles were up. “Thank you for the suggestion, Mayor Snyder. I will deal with my staff as I see fit. Frankly, I’m surprised you would want to separate a young local from his employment, and right before the holidays.”
Once again, a hush fell over the dining room. The mayor finally lost some of his steam. He took Natalie’s elbow and steered her toward the door. “You folks have a great evening,” he greeted some of the tables on his way to the exit. The smile on his face looked as plastic as the bag Natalie held like precious cargo.
As they reached the door, Max shouted, “Be sure to send me the dry-cleaning bill.” The mayor’s face flashed red as he stomped out into the cold night. Before Max could finish damage control, CeCe was back with a tray of Christmas cookies. Stopping at each table, she gave free treats to everyone. He really needed to give her a raise.
When Max went back to the kitchen, Evan was zipping up his coat. “Where do you think you’re going?” CeCe asked, pushing past Max to get to her friend. “We still have five orders to finish.”
Evan shook his head. “I’m leaving. You can consider this my notice, Max. I’m sorry to cause so much trouble.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders.
“Nope,” both Max and CeCe said at the same time.
“Not gonna happen,” Max continued as he strode to his employee. “I’m going to share a secret with you,” he said. “That man is a pain in Buckeye Falls’ ass.” Max could tell it was working because the corner of Evan’s lip quirked up. “Accidents happen, and you did everything you could to fix the situation. Mayor Snyder is miserable and likes to share his misfortune with anyone who doesn’t do what he wants. I won’t lose good employees because of that idiot.”
CeCe nodded vehemently beside him, her expression stern. “You’re not going to go anywhere, Ev. Now hang up your coat and help me deliver these orders.”
The young man shot his gaze back and forth between the pair, finally nodding and peeling off his coat. “All right, but you have every right to fire me.”
Max shook his head. “Not my style.”
Evan followed CeCe back to the grill and served up a plate for table six. Max heard their banter as he walked back to his office. While he looked cool and collected, he knew this wouldn’t be the last he heard from the mayor. He added it to his mental list of things to worry about.
Two hours later, the diner was empty, and he finally caught his breath. CeCe was turning the closed sign when Max heard her gasp. Mayor Snyder strode in with a plastic bag fisted in his hands. “Where’s your boss?” he asked, still looking madder than he had a right to be.
“Right here,” Max said, walking with purpose toward the man. “What can I do for you, Anthony?” Now that their audience was gone, Max was done pretending to respect the man. Too much history was caught up in their present, and he couldn’t act as if he wasn’t tired of the man’s bullying. High school was done. Plus, Anthony was on Max’s turf now. This needed to end.
Tossing the bag to Max, Anthony rolled his eyes. “Make sure to take it over to Theo’s. I don’t trust the Greens not to over-starch. I’d like it back by Friday.”
Max smirked, knowing full well he was going to take the suit to the Greens. “Sure thing.”
Anthony studied Max for a moment before sneering. “You think you have it all figured out, huh? Throw some free food our way and I’ll forget that you screwed me and my dad over on the development deal. Well, I don’t forget, and I certainly don’t forgive.” Max wasn’t sure where the mayor was going with that, but he didn’t have time to think before Anthony gave the final blow. “Make sure you say hello to that pretty ex-wife of yours. I heard she is back in town.”
Max stepped forward, but CeCe linked her hand around his bicep. It was a steadying gesture that reminded Max things could get a lot worse if he acted on his impulse to pummel the mayor. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew Ginny was back in town,” he said through clenched teeth. “You always did have a thing for her.”
Anger flashed in Anthony’s eyes, but he didn’t move. “It’s a shame you screwed that up, but Ginny always was too good for you.” Turning on his heel, he stomped out of the diner, letting the door slam behind him.
CeCe rushed to lock the door and turned back to find Max scrunching the bag in his hands. “Can you do me a favor?” she asked, taking the mangled bag from his hands.
“Only if it’s not promising to clean the floor with that idiot,” Max replied, trying hard not to run outside and kick the crap out of his former classmate.
“Go home and relax. There’s a lot going on, and I need my boss to not murder the mayor. Okay?” She held the bag up between them. “I’ll take care of bringing this to Greens tomorrow. I’m going to ask them to starch it so much it snaps in half when he tries to button the jacket.”
Her snide remark helped Max relax, but he was still amped up. “Thanks,” he muttered, walking back to the kitchen to gather his things. CeCe was right, he needed to go home and calm down.
Max also needed to not think about how much Anthony’s words had cut him, how deep his insecurities really were. As much as Max hated change, right now he was looking for something to shift. He needed that pit in the bottom of his stomach to loosen. Otherwise he would never be able to really move on from Ginny.