| |
––––––––
Ginny nearly made a fool of herself at dinner. From her first taste of soup, she was in love. “Dad, this is amazing.” She greedily slurped from her spoon and covered her mouth with her free hand. “I mean, what is this?” Glancing down at her bowl, Ginny would have thought she was at a five-star restaurant. This was not just her father’s normal chicken soup; this was bliss in a bowl.
Harold beamed at his daughter, taking a moment to savor the first bite. “I can’t take all the credit.” He gestured at Max with his spoon. “Someone helped me with the recipe.”
Max shrugged, tearing a piece of bread and dipping it into the broth. Ginny allowed a moment to study the movements of his hands, ones she was intimately familiar with. They were strong hands, with nimble fingers that could do anything from carve a turkey to bring her to the height of passion. Her spoon clattered back into her bowl. Was it suddenly a little hot in here?
Thankfully, no one seemed to notice her case of the vapors. “You did all the work, Harold. This really is terrific. Did you get the fresh cilantro?”
Nodding, Harold reached for a piece of bread. “I did. Went by the market when Ginny was working.”
Ginny’s swooning was interrupted at her father’s statement, and she asked, “When did you go to the market? I thought I got everything at the store for you.”
Harold slathered butter on his bread and took a bite before answering. “When you were on a call with your boss. I knew you’d need privacy, so I went out for what I’d forgotten to put on the list.”
Ginny frowned. She hadn’t realized she was focusing so much on work that she’d missed her father leaving the house. “I’m sorry. Lana texted, and then I guess I lost track of time.” Looking at Max, she saw him studying her. As soon as their eyes met, he looked down at the table and focused on his soup. He stared at the broth like it held the secrets of the universe. She could guess what he was thinking. Her long hours at work, the constant distractions; none of this was new to Max.
Finally, he looked up and snagged her gaze. The heat from his expression caused her skin to blaze. Taking her ice water, Ginny sipped until she felt her temperature lower. Maybe it wasn’t Max. Maybe it was the heat of the soup. There’s got to be at least a dozen chili peppers in here, right?!
“Are you still at the same marketing firm?” Max asked. It was an innocent enough question, but Ginny knew it took a lot out of Max to inquire. Her firm is the same firm that scooped her up and took her away from Ohio, away from him. It was one of the biggest marketing firms on the east coast, and she would have been a fool to pass it up. But what about the person she passed up?
Even now, there was a nagging question in the back of her head when she thought about getting the offer. She’d accepted without hesitation, never contemplated bringing Max along. He had his passion in the diner, and Ginny had assumed it was the sign she needed to move forward with her life. But now, eating a simple soup dinner in her childhood home, she felt a little callous for her choices. Not that she was backpedaling on her decision; she was merely being thoughtful. It must be that wine.
Before answering, she dabbed her lips with her napkin. “Yes, still at the same firm.”
Max nodded once. “I’m glad you’re doing so well there.” The compliment seemed genuine, and Ginny didn’t like how it caused her stomach to flip.
Harold leaned over and patted Ginny’s hand. “Our girl got promoted last year, senior management now. Isn’t that impressive?” The phrase “our girl” wasn’t lost on Ginny. She couldn’t tell if it was a slip of the tongue, or if her father was trying a last-ditch attempt at matchmaking. She hoped it was the former.
Max cleared his throat. “She certainly is. Congratulations, Gin.” Ginny froze at the sound of his nickname for her. A simple thing, but Max was the only person who ever called her Gin. As if he noticed her flinch, Max changed the subject. “Did you add pre-ground cumin or the whole seeds?”
Harold looked wounded. “I tried to find the whole cumin seeds, but the market only had pre-ground. Do you think you or CeCe could hook me up?”
“Hook you up?” Ginny laughed. “Did you get my dad into an illegal spice trading ring?” Everyone chuckled, but Ginny was growing more curious about this mysterious CeCe. She wanted to know more about her but didn’t know how to bring her up without looking obvious. Was this Max’s girlfriend? It sounded crazy, even to Ginny, but she’d assumed Max was still single. What business was it of hers? She chastised herself, pulling her attention back to the delicious soup.
“Who else wants seconds?” Harold asked, pulling back his chair.
Max hopped to his feet and grabbed Harold’s bowl. “I’ll get it—you sit and relax.” Max reached for Ginny’s bowl but hesitated. “Can I get you seconds?” His eyes held hers this time, giving her a look that could peel the wallpaper off the kitchen walls. Ginny felt her toes curl in her shoes.
“Um, yes, please.” Even though she was dying for more soup, Ginny knew she needed to pace herself. Without her morning runs, she was going to need to buy new pants if she kept eating like this.
As if he was reading her mind, Harold teased, “We need to keep you fed, Ginnybread. You’ve been in the city too long. You need some meat on your bones.”
Ginny patted her stomach. “Dad, let’s be careful, or I’m going to have more meat than I should.”
Max placed her bowl in front of her and paused. “I think you look great.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and Ginny wondered if the words were meant for her.
Ginny didn’t have time to overanalyze, because there was a knock at the door. “Who on earth would come by at this hour?” Harold asked, pushing his chair back to answer the door.
Ginny rose and waved him off. “I’ll check, Dad.” She walked toward the front, feeling Max’s gaze follow her. When she got there, she looked out the window to see an older woman with a shock of white hair. Ginny opened the door halfway and stuck her head out. “Can I help you?”
The woman looked surprised for a moment before collecting herself. She held up a platter covered in tin foil. “Is Harold home?” She waited a moment for Ginny to reply before adding, “You must be Ginny. I’ve heard so much about you.” The woman moved the platter to her elbow and stuck out her hand. “I’m Mona Fynn.”
Not wanting to be rude, Ginny took the woman’s hand. The shake was firmer than she’d expected, but Mona’s eyes were kind and eager. “Nice to meet you, Mona.”
From behind her, Ginny heard her father’s familiar shuffled footsteps as he joined them at the entrance. “Mona! Don’t just stand there, come on in.” He placed his hand on Ginny’s shoulder and gestured for Mona to join them.
Mona stepped inside the living room, bringing along a puff of snow from her coat. “I wanted to drop these off with you now, since you won’t be back at the community center before your surgery.” The look of concern on Mona’s face made Ginny weary. It was the expression of someone who was more concerned than a neighbor would be. There was a spark in those eyes, and judging from her father’s expression, he was enjoying the moment.
“So how did you two meet?” Ginny asked, taking the platter from Mona’s hands. It had to weigh at least five pounds. “Oof,” Ginny grunted as she carried it to the kitchen table.
Max had joined them, handing Mona a glass of wine. “Mona is the director of the community center. She’s also the head of the Christmas Jubilee planning committee this year.”
Mona flushed at Max’s praise. “I want to help. Max and CeCe are doing all the heavy lifting this year.”
There was that name again, CeCe. Ginny didn’t want to bristle, but she was feeling like an outsider in her own home. Well, in her father’s home. “You are?” she asked Max.
Max shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, it’s the least we can do. CeCe has a cookie party set up for next week, and we’re catering the Jubilee Ball.”
The Jubilee Ball. Just the name of the event flooded Ginny with memories of happier times. Well, mostly happier times. Max used to take Ginny every year, twirling her around the dance floor and kissing her under the mistletoe. The Jubilee Ball was the social event of the year in Buckeye Falls, and Ginny had been silly enough to forget about it. Of course the event was still happening. The world didn’t stop because she wasn’t here to witness it.
Ginny hadn’t been to the Jubilee in three years. The last one she was in town for was right before she left for New York. Max was distracted and she assumed they weren’t even going to make it, but now she wasn’t so sure. If he was involved now, did that mean he was always interested?
Then that red dress up in her closet flashed before Ginny’s eyes. Where had that come from? It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but Mona kept talking. “I hope you’ll be able to join us, Harold. I’m saving you a dance.”
Harold winked at Mona, and Ginny suddenly felt like she was totally clueless. “The doctor said I should be out of bed within a few days of surgery. The Jubilee Ball might have to go on without me, I hate to say. Maybe Max can throw me over his shoulder and carry me to the dance floor.”
Ginny opened her mouth to ask what was going on when Max took her elbow and guided her into the kitchen. “You two catch up. Ginny and I will clean up dinner.” Max didn’t let anyone argue, and her father seemed pleased with the change of company.
When they were in the kitchen, Ginny lowered her voice to a whisper. “Who is that woman, and what is going on? Is she ... is she my dad’s girlfriend?” Ginny didn’t know why the idea was so foreign. She knew her dad was a nice man. Any woman would be lucky to have him in her life—she just didn’t think anyone did besides her.
Max hoisted the soup pot to the counter, opening a cabinet for a bowl to store leftovers in. Ginny watched him for a moment, yet again caught off guard by how familiar Max was with the layout of the kitchen. “How often do you come over here to see Dad?” she asked.
Max shrugged. “Do you want to know about that, or Mona? I’m happy to tell you anything you want to know, but you seem all over the place right now.”
Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and jutted out her chin. “I am not. I’m fine.” She hated how petulant she sounded, especially with Max.
Reaching out, Max brushed his thumb over her chin. The trail of his touch curled her toes. Apparently her body needed to get the memo that his touch shouldn’t affect her that way.
“You’re in defense mode.”
“I am not,” she complained, even though he was reading her like a book. Damn him. “I’m confused as to what is going on here. Why are you teaching my dad how to cook Thai chicken soup? How do you know where the bowls are, yet I can’t seem to find anything? And who is this woman bringing food and making googly eyes at Dad?” Against her better judgment, she jutted her chin out even further. At this rate she was going to get a crick in her neck from all the pouting.
Max covered a bowl with plastic wrap and tried to school his features. Ginny could tell he wanted to laugh. “Mona is a sweet lady. Your dad could do a lot worse.” His tone was casual.
Ginny absolutely hated being this far out of the loop. Sure, she was living her life in New York, but she foolishly assumed her father was like Max, kept in a bubble where nothing changed without her. Frankly, she hated how it felt.
Filling the sink with soapy water, Max started scrubbing the soup pot. Without having to ask, Ginny took a dish towel and stood beside him. Within minutes, they were silently doing the dishes in their old, familiar rhythm. When Ginny faltered with where to put the can opener, Max reached out to the drawer by the fridge. “It goes over here,” he said.
“I knew that,” Ginny whined as she shoved the can opener into the wrong drawer. Max bit his lip but didn’t say anything, taking a moment to watch her. It was making her squirm, and not in a good way. “Why are you staring at me?” she asked, hanging the towel on the stove handle.
“Because you’re here,” Max said simply. “I haven’t seen you in years, and I’m getting my fill.” He drained the sink and wiped down the table before reaching for his coat on the back of his chair. “I should get going, but let me know if you need any help with Harold when you’re back from the hospital. I’ve got the diner covered, and I can help with anything at all.”
There were a few snide remarks Ginny could spew, but she kept quiet and merely nodded. She knew there would be things coming up in the next few days that she’d need help with. It never occurred to her to call Max, but it should have. She knew that even after all this time, Max would pick up the phone when she called. Truly, he was a good man.
Wait, what was all this? One quiet night at home with her ex-husband was driving Ginny crazy. “I’ll walk you out,” she offered. Perhaps the cold night air would clear her mind of these racing thoughts.
Max put on his coat and stepped back to the living room where Harold and Mona were animatedly discussing something in hushed tones. Her father seemed agitated, and Ginny asked, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Harold said, leaning forward while Mona fluffed the pillow at his back. He grimaced a little but didn’t complain. “We were just talking about the Jubilee.”
Mona patted Harold’s leg and beamed. “Your dad is one of the best planners we’ve ever had. He’s giving Santa’s elves a run for their money.”
Ginny knew her father liked to stay active in Buckeye Falls, but she had no idea he was into party planning. “You are?”
Harold shrugged. “It’s a fun group, and I always liked the Christmas Jubilee. I kind of fell into it when Mona took over the planning committee.”
Max motioned toward the couch and smirked. “Mona did more than take over the committee. She brought us into the twenty-first century. The Jubilee actually has a social media presence now.”
Whipping her gaze back and forth, Ginny felt like a defective bobblehead doll. “Wow. I had no idea the Jubilee was getting so big.”
Mona frowned. “It might be getting too big. Even with Max and Harold helping, it is a lot to take on. Plus, my grandson told me our last Instagram post was”—she held her hands up and did air quotes—“totally lame.”
Max covered his mouth to hide his smile. “It wasn’t bad.”
“It certainly wasn’t inspired,” Mona countered, waving off his praise.
Ginny pulled her cell phone from her pocket, scrolling through Instagram. “What’s the name of the account?”
“Buckeye Falls Christmas Jubilee,” Max said, so close she felt the warmth of him seeping through her sweater. It really was getting too hot in here.
Holding back judgment, Ginny scrolled through the event’s page. It wasn’t as bleak as she was expecting, but there was a lot of room for improvement. “Who else is helping on the committee?” she asked, not liking where her mind was going. Once a marketer, always a marketer.
Counting off on her fingers, Mona said, “Well, the three of us, Natalie, a few of the church ladies, and CeCe.”
“Who is in charge of social media and promotions?”
Mona glanced around, as if the answer were right in front of her.
Ginny had the sinking feeling it was. “Um, no one? We all sort of”—she trailed off and flapped her hand in the air—“chip in when we can.”
This wouldn’t do. Every professional bone in Ginny’s body vibrated with the need to fix this page—to fix this whole situation. While her mind spiraled with all the things wrong with the marketing, Mona reached into her purse and dug out a brochure. “These are the mock-ups for this year’s fliers.” She thrust it into Ginny’s hand, and Ginny fought against rolling her eyes. Clashing color schemes and ’90s clip art covered the mint green paper. They were possibly the ugliest brochures she’d ever seen.
“Wow,” was all she could say as she stared down at a brochure better suited for a time capsule. Reason and all common sense flew up the chimney like a puff of smoke as she looked around at three sets of curious eyes. “I’m not making any promises,” she said, knowing what she was about to do was a big deal. “But I can look at the social accounts. You know, see what I can do.”
Mona beamed. “Really? Harold said you’re a wonder with marketing, but I never thought you’d be able to help.”
Beside her, Ginny felt Max. He was warm, steady. A few hours ago, his closeness would have irked her, but now it felt comforting. “Are you sure you have the time for this?” he asked, his brow creased in concern. “I mean, you have your job and prepping for Harold’s surgery.”
Either not sensing her hesitation, or not caring, Mona plowed ahead. “I’ll tell the committee you’ll join us on Thursday night for the meeting. If you think you’ll have something to show us?” She held up her hands, every available finger was crossed, her expression that of a child on Christmas morning.
Suddenly fearing she’d overstepped, Ginny looked to her father. “And you’re sure I’m not stepping on any other elves’ toes? The last thing I want to do is make waves.”
“Nonsense,” he assured her. “It’s not every day a big city hotshot offers to do your marketing.” She couldn’t deny the pride on her father’s face made her feel ten feet tall. Her career had always been important to her, but Ginny didn’t worry about what others thought about it—even her family.
“Where is the meeting?”
“The community center,” Mona said as she shrugged her coat back on. “Maybe Max can pick you up so you know where to go?” Mona nodded at her own suggestion before hugging Harold and heading toward the door.
Max was hot on her heels and jogged to open the door. “Drive careful, Mona.” Turning back to Ginny he said, “Can I talk to you for a second?”
From his perch on the couch, Harold said, “You kids do what you need to. I’ve got ESPN for company.” Before either of them could take a step outside, the TV blared with a basketball game. Ginny had to ball her fists at her sides to keep from plugging her ears.
“What’s the matter?” she asked after Max steered her to the porch. Mona had already made her exit, the sound of her car’s tires crunching as she backed onto the road.
Max cupped the back of his neck and sighed. Suddenly he looked exhausted. “You don’t need to do this.”
“The marketing thing?”
“Any of it,” he surmised. “I know it’s a lot, and you’re going to be busy with Harold, and—” He stopped his rambling and made eye contact, his gaze searching. “We can handle it.”
Ginny knew he was right, that a local holiday event was hardly worth her energy, but she really wanted to help. “I don’t mind.” And since she was in the business of surprising people tonight, she added, “And if you don’t mind picking me up on Thursday, I’d appreciate it.”
Max swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. In the dim porchlight, Ginny observed the five o’clock shadow from earlier in the week was becoming a full beard. It suited him. And the fact that she noticed that annoyed the hell out of her.
“S-s-sure. I’ll pick you up at six.” With that, he turned and bounded down the porch steps to his car. She assumed he ran away before she could change her mind.
For a moment, Ginny stood in the quiet evening breathing in the clean country air. The only sounds were from the TV and a few dogs barking in the distance. Gone were the familiar horns and sirens of New York, and she was surprised to discover she didn’t miss it. Walking back inside, she curled up on the couch next to her father. When he wasn’t looking, she turned the volume down to a level that wouldn’t wake the dead. She dozed, her head listing to the side. As her eyes grew heavy, she thought about ideas for the Jubilee and found herself growing excited to create something new. Though she also couldn’t help but wonder what had she just gotten herself into?
*
The entire drive home, Max replayed the last two hours on a loop in his brain. Seeing Ginny, spending time with her and Harold had felt like a balm to his soul. When Mona suggested he drive Ginny to the committee meeting, he nearly kissed her—Harold’s reaction be damned.
Once things got hectic with the Jubilee planning, Max had seen the social media and marketing sliding. Granted he was no expert, but he knew enough to know it was bad. Like, a middle school group project bad. Max hoped there was a part of her, regardless of how small, that looked forward to spending time with him. No matter how long the ink was dry on their divorce papers, Max loved Ginny and wanted the best for her. Working herself to exhaustion would not do.
When you build a life with someone, around someone, it’s hard to flip a switch and pretend that everything is fine. The one saving grace for Max was the diner, which ironically had been the nail in the coffin of their marriage. Ginny had wanted bigger things from life, and Max wanted a small-town life with Ginny.
Early in their marriage, they’d discussed what they wanted to do after college, when their new degrees seemed to open the world at their feet. Max had always wanted to be a chef. From his childhood days of helping his parents in the kitchen, to hiding there with his late grandmother when things were rough, food was his happy place. He’d started working at the diner, the biggest restaurant in Buckeye Falls, just to get his feet wet in the restaurant world.
One day the owner approached him to say he was retiring and moving to Arizona to escape the Ohio winters. Max knew it was a great opportunity for him and Ginny to set up real roots in their hometown and make their way. But Ginny had been making her own plans.
Where Max always knew he wanted to cook, Ginny struggled to find her place in the professional world. Throughout college, she’d had half a dozen internships to find what would make her happy. She’d also bounced around jobs outside town, seeing if she could fit anywhere. She’d tried finance, hospitality, and even waited tables at the diner for a few months. Finally she’d taken a job in Columbus at a marketing firm. Her commute had been long, but Max thought it was worth it to see the look of satisfaction on her face every night when she came home.
Then it all fell apart. Ginny had impressed the bosses at their New York headquarters, and a job offer quickly followed. While Max was planning their small-town life, Ginny had decided she wanted to try big-city living—alone. To say he was completely blindsided would be a lie. Max had seen the tiny shifts in their relationship. But at the end of the day, he knew Ginny, and he knew what they had was special.
Now, standing in the diner’s kitchen at dawn, Max shook himself back to reality. He had a lot of things to prep before opening. Going down Memory Lane could wait. His win for the week was knowing Ginny would be spending time with him. Max practically radiated excitement from his head to his toes.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” CeCe greeted him from the back door. She had a bag of rice tossed over her shoulder, and she kicked the door closed behind her. “I was driving past the restaurant supply store last night and thought I’d get rice to make risotto for the weekend. What do you think?”
There were few things CeCe made that Max didn’t love, but risotto was not one of those. It was one of the best. “Um, I think you need to get cooking. Are you making the lemon parmesan or the mushroom and Swiss?”
CeCe tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and stared at the ten-pound bag of rice. “Honestly, I was thinking of trying that bacon and blue cheese recipe. Do you think that’s too much?”
“I think it’s just right,” Evan said, joining them and shrugging his coat off. “Is that for tonight?” His eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Max loved Evan, but he worried about the kid. At twenty-three, he was still figuring out what he wanted to do in life. There was an obvious attraction to CeCe, and Max worried he’d get his heart broken. CeCe was older, wiser, and had a strict no-dating-coworkers rule. Evan didn’t stand a chance.
CeCe shook her head. “Probably not until the weekend. Here, take the other end and help me carry this to the shelf.” Together they lugged the bag of rice off the counter. Max grabbed a towel and disinfected the counters. For some reason, the ritual of cleaning put him in the right frame of mind.
Evan returned and put on his apron, grabbing a box of sugar packets. “I’ll start my prep work,” he said, walking out to the dining room. CeCe returned and retrieved a box of flour and a bag of sugar.
Max watched her studying the ingredients. “What are you thinking today?” he asked.
CeCe rolled her shoulders and sighed. “I can’t decide. Should I do something chocolatey or something fruity?”
Max gestured to their whiteboard on the back wall, which displayed the day’s specials. “Pick something that goes with chicken pot pie and Greek lemon soup.”
“Fruity,” CeCe confirmed, getting herself into work mode. Max had noticed CeCe’s shifts from her first day at the diner. In a matter of seconds, she went from joking about something to expertly melting chocolate for a cake. When it was time to work, CeCe was there to work.
Their doors opened an hour later. Max had fallen into his familiar rhythm of cooking the diner’s popular brunch items when Evan came back to the grill with a goofy look on his face. “Hey, boss, you got a second?”
Using his wrist, Max pushed a lock of hair from his face. He had just placed eggs on the griddle and had to watch them. “Not really, what’s up?” Max asked, his eyes never leaving the eggs. He knew these were for the town’s poker club, and those guys would never let him hear the end of it if their eggs were dry.
Evan shuffled his feet back and forth and waited while Max buttered toast and slid thick slices of bacon onto waiting plates. “Well, there’s a lady out front.”
Max had to bite his tongue at Evan’s vague way of describing seemingly important situations. “We serve a lot of female customers, Evan. You’re going to have to throw me a bone here.”
“Well, she asked for you specifically. If that makes a difference.” Evan shrugged, as if that answered all of Max’s questions.
“Is she unhappy with her meal?” Max asked, filling the last of the poker club’s plates and sliding the tray across to Evan. “Bring this out to table five. I’ll come out in a second. What table has the unhappy customer?”
Evan looked confused. “She’s not at a table. She walked in and asked to see you.”
Max pulled his hand through his hair and stifled a groan. “Evan, I’m going to take a moment to brew a fresh pot of coffee. Get these meals to table five, find out what she wants and come back. Okay?”
Evan balanced the tray on his shoulder, careful to keep the plates from bumping into each other. “You got it, boss.” Evan walked out of the kitchen, giving Max a moment to collect himself before the next rush of orders.
CeCe burst through the doors with a grin on her face. “There’s a pretty hot woman asking for you out there. A bunch of people seem to recognize her, but she won’t take a seat. She’s standing by the door, as if she’ll burst into flames if she steps inside.” CeCe put down a bin of dirty dishes by the dishwasher.
Now Max really did groan. “I’m guessing it’s Ginny.”
CeCe chuckled. “Either your ex, or a vampire.” She smiled at her own joke before continuing, “Damn, Max. I can see why you still pine after her. She’s certainly a looker.” She craned her neck to look through the window in the door. Max took a moment to walk to his tiny office and run a comb through his hair. He’d hoped the next time they saw each other he’d be prepared. Now he was covered in food and smelled like a combination of sweat and bacon.
“CeCe, cover the grill for a second. I’ll be right back.”
Smirking, CeCe took her place and grabbed a spatula. “You realize you’re going to have to give me the dirt on this, right? I can’t be the only person living an interesting life in this town.”
Max was offended. “My life is interesting.”
Lifting a shoulder, CeCe focused on the stack of uncracked eggs in front of her. “Your life here is interesting. I can’t say what it looks like when you’re not inside these walls.” There was no time to unpack that statement, so Max threw his arms in the air and walked into the dining room.
It took all of two seconds for Max to find Ginny standing ramrod straight by the door, her purse clutched against her chest. She was talking to the hostess, Helen. “It’s no trouble at all, dear,” Helen assured Ginny. “We have spots at the counter, and I could get you a cup of coffee while you wait.”
Ginny shook her head and smiled. When she saw Max approach, she managed to look both more relaxed and terrified. “Hi.” Her voice came out in a squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Erm, good morning.”
Max patted Helen’s arm. “We’ve got this covered. Thank you for your help, Helen.” Helen grabbed a stack of menus and walked around them toward the customers entering the diner. Without thinking, Max reached out and took Ginny’s elbow, steering her toward the kitchen.
“Where are we going?” Ginny asked, looking like she wanted to bolt for the door.
Max kicked open the door to the kitchen and gestured toward the office in the back corner. He knew Ginny knew where his office was, but still, he directed her. “Let’s go to my office.” Max felt Evan and CeCe’s eyes on them as he guided Ginny and closed the door behind them.
The space was small, barely holding a desk and two chairs. Max moved a stack of invoices off the spare chair and tilted it toward Ginny in invitation. “Thanks,” she muttered, lowering herself onto the edge of the seat. It was like she was trying to be as uncomfortable as possible in his presence, and Max wasn’t too proud to admit that it stung.
“So, what’s up?” Max asked, leaning back in his chair and surveying his ex-wife in his own space. Like the night before, she was dressed for the city. Her jeans were tight and her boots were better suited for a runway than an icy rural sidewalk. Not that he was complaining about how Ginny looked. He’d seen her at her best and worst, and he’d never not been attracted to her.
Ginny had a confidence Max always admired. No matter the situation, she was poised and in her element. He assumed it was what made her so good at her job. Now she didn’t seem as confident as she stared down at her purse, still clutched in her hands. “I wanted to talk about the Christmas committee.”
Max figured that was why she was here. He didn’t blame her, especially after Mona pulled a fast one on her. Bless her heart, when Mona sensed Ginny’s willingness she’d pounced. “You want to get out of it,” he surmised. To say he was disappointed would be the understatement of the century. “I understand. I can see if CeCe can help me out with the marketing.” Max couldn’t be sure, but the mention of CeCe seemed to bring a small flinch from Ginny. He didn’t know what to think about that.
Ginny swallowed, still not looking up from her lap. “I don’t know how I can do a new project while I’m taking care of Dad.”
Max leaned closer, keeping his tone even. “You know that Mona and I would never suggest anything that would take you away from Harold during his recovery. If you can’t make the meetings, I could follow up with what the committee needs from you. Plus, you know I can help with anything for Harold. I want to be there for him, and for you.”
His last words hung in the air between them as the silence stretched out. Back in the day, the air hadn’t been so heavy in this tiny office. When he’d first reopened the diner, he and Ginny spent a lot of good times in this space. From getting the menus printed and folded to a few stolen kisses, Max loved the memories Ginny brought back.
“I want to help because I can tell it’s important to Dad,” she rushed to add. “But I will take you up on your offer.” Finally she looked up and met his gaze. “About tomorrow night, before the meeting,” she said, glancing down to watch her fingers toy with the hem of her sweater. “Dad’s invited you to dinner, if you’re free.”
Max was the opposite of free on Thursday night before the meeting, but he knew he could make it work with his team. “Yes, is five o’clock all right?” He’d shut down the diner if it came to that because nothing would stop him from another meal with two of his favorite people.
Ginny nodded, looking as if she were about to stand. Suddenly she stopped, falling back against her seat. Her face was drawn, and she looked exhausted. “Thanks, Max. I knew I could count on you.”
Before he could stop himself, Max closed the distance between them, kneeling to meet Ginny eye to eye. “Yes, you can. And you can tell me what else you need for Harold. I’m here, okay?” Without asking permission, he reached out and took her hands in his. They were smooth yet cold from the winter chill. He squeezed them and waited for her to pull back, but she returned the squeeze and sighed.
“I’m really scared,” she whispered. “I know it’s a routine surgery, but what if he ...” Her words were lost on a sob. Ginny pulled her hands free and covered her face. Her shoulders shook from the effort of holding back her tears.
Max sprang into action, cradling her close and rubbing her back while she cried. “Shhh, let it out, Gin.” He knew she was hurting, but Max savored this moment of closeness. Ginny hadn’t been vulnerable in front of him in years, and it did funny things inside his rib cage. He liked, no loved, being the person she turned to.
Finally Ginny pulled back far enough to catch Max’s eye. “Thanks, I didn’t mean to come here and cry in your office when you’re busy.”
“You’re welcome to cry in my office anytime,” Max said, instantly grimacing. “Damn, that came out all wrong.”
Ginny giggled, her smile lighting up her face and sending Max’s pulse skyrocketing. “I know what you mean, and I appreciate it.” Ginny pulled a tissue from her coat pocket and dabbed at her eyes.
A lump formed in his throat, and he felt his words falter on his tongue. “S-s-sure. Happy to help.”
Ginny reached out and rested her hand on his cheek. Despite his beard, he felt the heat of her touch on his skin. “Max.” The name came out in a breath that tickled his nose. She leaned closer until he could count the freckles on her cheeks. Max knew every freckle—twenty-seven on her right cheek alone—every pore on her face. His favorite Ginny constellation looked like Orion’s Belt.
Knowing he wouldn’t get the chance again, he put his hand on her shoulder, drawing her even closer. The crisp scent of her mint shampoo washed over him in invitation. When their lips were nearly touching, fate intervened in the name of Evan.
“Hey, boss, there’s a line out the door. Can you help with—oh crap!” he exclaimed, stepping back and letting the door slam shut. Through the door Max heard hurried footfalls as Evan ran away.
Max cursed under his breath as Ginny shot to her feet. They both knew the moment was gone. He only hoped it wasn’t gone forever.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, tossing her purse over her shoulder and stumbling to the door.
Before Max could follow her, he heard the kitchen door close and realized the chance to catch her was over. But at least he would see her tomorrow, and Max was holding on to hope. Fate had brought Ginny back to Buckeye Falls for more than Harold. In his heart, Max knew this was their second chance.