Tatum
The San Diego Zoo was huge. And really amazing. Even though Raaah-jjjer came with Mom and me on our outing. (I can't figure out why I cannot manage to say his name normally. This is how it sounds in my head, and I'm working not to address him by name in person because this is how it comes out of my mouth, too. Raaah-jjjer.)
I don't know why it bothered me that she invited him out with us.
Okay, that's a lie. I know why. First of all, she told me she really wanted to see the zoo with me, and made me feel like if I didn't drop everything and go with her to peer at giraffes and hippos, her day would be ruined. Secondly, I need to talk to someone. And while Mom hasn't always been my first choice of confidant, she's what I've got. I had girlfriends before I married Austin, but in that marriage and the years of hard work that had come after, I hadn’t managed to maintain those relationships.
I tried talking to Charlie, but he just stared at me with those enormous understanding eyes and then kind of groaned and dropped to the floor, rolling over like he thought if I was going to just sit there and talk, I might as well rub his belly while I was at it.
He didn't have any helpful advice about my entangled feelings for Max.
Mom seemed annoyed with me all day, probably because I was annoyed about having to share her with Raaah-jjjer (who was perfectly nice by the way. He insisted on buying our tickets and paid for lunch, he acted as tour guide and shepherded us around.)
Peter, our landlord, had agreed to take Charlie out for a walk while we were at the zoo, and I sensed he might be a little annoyed too. It seemed he had begun to develop an affection for my mother. They'd been going for walks with Charlie almost every day while I was out endangering the career I'd built by considering what one of my clients might be like in bed. Today, when Peter had come over to say hello and assure us that he and Charlie would be fine, he'd been introduced to Raaah-jjjer, and I caught a definite competitive vibe. Mom was practically starring in her own version of The Bachelorette.
Mom had two perfectly single and available guys vying for her attention, both of which she seemed to like.
Me? I managed to fall in lust with the one man I really shouldn't even be thinking about touching with a ten-foot pole. Or touching with other things. Like my hands. Or my tongue. And thinking about his pole was strictly off limits.
That's what I kept telling myself.
Max had kissed me. Or I had kissed him.
And it had pretty much rocked my world. Not that I'd been wildly experienced before Austin, and definitely not since, but Max had clearly known what he was doing. I shivered, just at the memory of his tongue sliding against mine, his hand buried in my hair, that smell of leather and cologne that surrounded him invading my senses.
"Are you cold, Tatum?" Raaah-jjjer asked, watching me as we stood in front of the polar bear tank, watching the huge bears swim and play like puppies.
I was not cold. The opposite, actually. Between the warm sunshine and the memory of Max's hands on me, I was potentially overheating. "I'm okay, thanks."
We saw every animal known to man, and I tried to feel happy for my mother when Raaah-jjjer put his arm around her shoulders as we walked the thirty-seven miles back to the front of the zoo to leave. She seemed content, and I was glad. Maybe it should have bothered me to see someone next to her who wasn't my father, and in a tiny way it did, but it was less about the man and more about me. Why was it so easy for Mom to find someone to stand next to her? To hold her hand? Why was it so hard for me?
It honestly wasn't something I thought about a lot. Work usually kept me too busy for that kind of deep introspection, and that was maybe by design. But this week, in the time and space I'd been given to set up a temporary change of residency and get established in my new role, I'd had a little time to think. Kissing Max hadn't helped. It had only illustrated for me how impossible my own dating life really was. Maybe I needed Mr. Match. Maybe I should fill out the intake form for real.
But as soon as I had that idea, I pushed it away. My stomach actually turned when I considered what it would be like to kiss someone else, someone who wasn't Max.
This was not good.
As Raaah-jjjer drove us home, he and my mother chatting happily about flamingos and koala bears, I stared at the passing landscape of my new home, feeling a bit like an aimless and confused teenager in the backseat of the adults' car.
I had to see Max for dinner in a couple hours. I needed to assure us both that my behavior from this point forward would be strictly professional. Beyond the success of this particular engagement, my entire career could be on the line. Women who made a habit of becoming involved with clients didn't go far in the world in which I worked. There had been another woman at my firm when I started, Lana Holmes. Within a year of working there, I'd been told she would never be a partner because she was unable to keep her personal and private lives separate. Evidently she'd slept with a client—maybe two or three, it was hard to tell by the variable rumors swirling around about her—and it had permanently marred her record. I hated it, but women had to be especially careful in male-dominated fields. We were held to a higher standard sometimes, and while it might not have been fair, it was true. And I had known it for years and promised myself I'd never be that woman, never ruin my reputation and career in the eyes of my manager.
Foster and I got along well. He knew a lot about me, had met my mother and even Charlie. We were friends, in a way, but I managed to keep a professional distance there, too.
I'd spent years building my reputation at the firm. And kill my shot at Foster’s position.
This attraction I felt to Max Winchell could ruin it all. I told myself I could not let that happen.
And yet, I couldn't seem to completely tamp down the odd tingles I felt run through me when I pictured his serious face, thought about his low careful voice. Imagined his mouth on me again.
I was potentially screwed.
"I hope you ladies had a nice time," Raaah-jjjer said as he opened the back door to let me out.
"I did, thank you. The zoo here is incredible."
"World famous," he agreed. "Thanks for letting me crash your day with your mom, Tatum. It's really nice to see her again." He gave me a genuine smile and something in his voice made me soften toward him a bit. Raaahj seemed like a nice guy.
"It was nice seeing you together, Roger. It's nice seeing Mom smile again." I meant it, and I smiled at my mom as I went inside to give them a few minutes to say goodbye.
Charlie heard my key in the door and I could hear him galloping to meet me as I stepped in. He skidded to a halt, sliding across the hardwood, and crashed into my legs, nearly sending me to the floor. As soon as he got his feet back under him, he was up, paws on my shoulders and head pushed up close to mine in a huge-dog hug.
"Hey buddy," I said, laughing. He was out of control, but his love was tangible. Why couldn't all relationships be so simple?
I put my arms around the big guy who never asked too much or complicated my life and buried my face in the scruff of his neck.
When we were finished greeting each other, Charlie and I went to get him a snack, and then he came to watch me fret about what to wear to my casual professional fish taco meeting with Max.
"It's just business," I told Charlie, who settled himself in a heap in the doorway of my room. "So there's no need for like, a dress or anything."
Charlie cocked his head, looking unsure about this, as I pulled on black slacks and a white button-down shirt. He made a grumbling noise and dropped his head on his paws.
"You're right. I look like a waiter." I tried again, swapping the shirt for a faux-wrap tank in a shade of pink and a light cardigan. "Better?"
"Oooh, you look nice," Mom cooed from behind Charlie. "Date?"
Immediately, I stripped off the pink shirt. "No, dinner with Max. Business."
"Date business," Mom said knowingly.
I pulled on a black three-quarter sleeve shirt. "No, just business." I had
a sudden thought that maybe Mom could sense that I’d kissed Max somehow. “Business business,” I assured us all.
Charlie groaned again.
"You look like you're in mourning," Mom said, shaking her head at the black shirt. "How about this?" She stepped over the big dog and came to stand beside me at the open closet, pulling out a swingy red skirt that was part of my aspirational wardrobe. I never wore it, but it was gorgeous. I had it just in case I ever had the perfect opportunity, and I was pretty sure fish tacos with a man I was definitely, completely, totally not trying to lure in any kind of sexually related way was not it. "This is perfect," she said, holding it up to me.
I sighed and put on the skirt.
Mom bent down and pulled a pair of black espadrille wedges from the closet floor. "And these."
I put the shoes on and looked into the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door. It was kind of datey, but she had a good eye. It was a little bit casual, fitted only enough to be flattering but not suggestive, and the little bit of leg that showed acknowledged the casual nature of the place Max had chosen, while the black shirt still said I was serious. "Yeah?"
Charlie made a noise that I swear sounded like agreement, and it was settled.
An hour later, I was sitting at a high table next to a window, drinking water and eating from a basket of tortilla chips, waiting for Max while my stomach leapt and shimmied. It wasn't butterflies. I wasn't a butterfly kind of girl. It was more like elves. At a rave. Or a bunch of those gnome gifs dancing around—the ones with the weird little v-shaped bathing suit thing on? At any rate, it turned out an entire basket of chips couldn't stifle the elves, and when Max strode confidently across the space, his eyes on mine and his lips pulled into a perfect smile, the stupid elf-gnomes exploded into an energetic line dance inside me.
"Hi Tate," Max said, sliding into the stool across from me. "You found the place all right."
"I found the place, and then I found an entire basket of chips going in my mouth. I guess I was hungry." I laughed. There. This was definitely not a date of any kind. I would never have admitted to scarfing an entire basket of chips on a date.
Max lifted a couple fingers and another basket of chips appeared, and he ordered a tequila with lime juice. "Tate?" He lifted an eyebrow, signaling the waiter to take my drink order.
"I'm good," I told them. Water would do. Water would keep me from giving in to the stupid elves who I swear were chanting, "kiss, kiss, kiss!"
"It's good that you wanted to meet," Max said. "How is the move going?"
I nodded. Good. Yes. Business talk. That would distract me from way his long fingers looked as he leaned on the tabletop on his elbows, his hands folded together, those long sexy fingers absently moving against one another. "It's coming along," I said. "Mom has a couple friends who are moving her personal items over to my place and she's got the place listed as an Airbnb. I'm going to keep my place for now, just see how things go."
Max tilted his head to the side. "Smart. So the move is really just an extension of your current situation?"
"Yes, Peter—that's the landlord—said we could switch to a monthly lease, and he's pretty accommodating about the dog, so ... I think he has a thing for my mother, actually."
"Oh really?"
"She's turned out to have quite the active social life here in San Diego," I told him, happy to have the conversation in a safe place for now. "The guy she bumped into that night at the bar has taken her out a couple times now, and I think Peter is working up the nerve to approach."
"Good for her."
"Yeah, good for her." I pushed down the little spring of jealousy I felt.
"You sound less than enthused," he said, his eyes narrowing.
I laughed, but the sound wasn’t convincing. "No, I am. It's just ..." And now we were veering into less safe conversational space. "I guess I feel like it's a little backward, right? Mom's been married, had her family. She did all that."
"So it should be you," Max said, understanding exactly what I'd been thinking without me even finishing the thought. "Your turn."
I let out a sigh that was half embarrassment, half agreement. "I guess so. Yeah." I straightened my shoulders, took a breath. "But look. We can't talk about stuff like this. That was part of why I texted you this morning. We need to hammer out some kind of agreement. To prevent things like, uh ..."
"Kissing?" Max said, his face remaining expressionless.
Heat rolled through me and parked in my cheeks at the reminder of the kiss. I took a steadying breath. "Yes. We can't do that."
"Agreed."
Why did that one word feel like a punch directly to elf-land?
The waiter arrived with Max's drink and took our order after Max informed me that ordering anything besides the fish tacos would be sacrilege.
"I hope I like fish tacos," I told him. I’d been to the other fish taco place with Charlie, but neither of us had ordered fish tacos there. I didn’t mention this to Max.
"You really shouldn't think about moving here if you don't," he said, his face serious.
"I'm sure there are people who live in San Diego who don't enjoy a fish taco."
He shook his head. "There are not."
I rolled my eyes. "Exaggerate much?"
Max took a sip of his drink, and his eyes landed on my face, held there.
"What?" I asked, feeling self-conscious suddenly as he examined me with that focused gaze and the elves moved into a conga line.
"It's just ..." a low chuckle fell from his lips and he shook his head. "You make me question things I was pretty sure I knew."
"Such as?" I was hoping for an answer that was so far from professional I should have just gotten up and left right then. The elves shushed each other, waiting for his answer with bated breath.
"How to keep a dinner professional, for one," he said, and the elves broke apart, cartwheeling and spinning. "But other things too. Like Mr. Match in general."
Good. Yes. Back to business. "What questions do you have about the company?" I asked, putting my business tone back on. "Because I've already discussed the best means of expansion with my manager and I think I've got a solid plan. It's partly what we talked about, but also—"
Max stopped me, held up a chip. "I didn't mean that. I'm fine with all that. I mean, you make me question the validity of the entire venture a little bit."
"Hundreds of happy couples would argue its validity," I pointed out, wanting to assure Max that what he’d spent years working on was completely worthwhile.
"Of course, right," he said. "Yeah. I've spent years proving that impulsive attraction isn't the right way to find your soul mate."
"Right." Some impulsive attraction was simmering in the space between us and I was doing my best to ignore it. Impulsive attraction had led me to a horrible marriage before.
"But knowing that doesn't make impulsive attraction any less powerful when you feel it," he said.
God, I knew exactly what he meant. I needed to fix this. Now. "But attraction, impulsive or otherwise, doesn't mean two people are right for each other. You know it's most likely nothing, that in the long run it would be nothing. Most likely." Like with Austin.
"Right."
"And," I said, going out on a limb that I hoped would hold me. "If you might potentially be talking about anyone we know, and a silly kiss that shouldn't have happened—"
"Should definitely not have happened," he agreed. "No matter how amazing it might have been."
I sucked in a breath, tried to keep myself grounded. He thought it was amazing too.
Sit down, you ridiculous elf savages!
Our food had arrived, and I hadn't even noticed the waiter setting it down. Max's eyes glittered across the table as he leaned in a bit, waiting for my next words. I made my voice steady. "I was just going to point out that kisses, amazing or otherwise, can't be part of a business relationship. Not when a company and someone's whole career are on the line."
He sighed and sat
back in his chair. "Right. Of course. I would never want to jeopardize either of those things. Especially your position at work."
I dropped my gaze to the fish tacos in the basket before me. Flour tortilla, some kind of white sauce, cabbage and a piece of fried fish. Really, it didn't look like anything so divisive as to determine whether someone could move to a particular city. I lifted a taco and took a bite.
And then I understood.
"Oh my God," I said through the mouthful. The white sauce was the key. There was definitely some kind of secret crack-like herbs and spices in it. "What is this sauce?" I felt a little of the sauce dribble down my chin, and I wiped it with a finger, not even thinking twice about shoving the finger into my mouth. I was not going to waste a drop of the stuff.
Max watched me, the dark eyes trained on my finger, my lips, and then finding my eyes again. "Yogurt," he said.
"No. Something else." My stomach flipped as he watched me.
"Yogurt with cilantro or something in it."
I shook my head. "There's something else. Like truffles or gold, or maybe dragon scales. Something really rare and amazing."
"You're right. I'm sure it's dragon scales." A smile lifted one side of his mouth and yogurt sauce with dragon scales became the second most-wanted thing on my list.
I focused on my tacos, and while we both ate and exchanged loaded glances, we said things like, "purely professional." "Don't need to act on it." "Rational adults."
Somewhere during the meal, I'd ordered a margarita, thinking it would take the edge off the sexual tension that had wound itself around our table the way Charlie tended to wind me up in his leash if I stood still too long. Now the damned elves were staggering around in a yogurt-laden drunken stupor, and my skin felt itchy and hot, eager to be touched.
"On the company," I told Max as he reached for his wallet. "It's a business dinner, after all."
"Right," he said, and his gaze held mine steadily, giving me flashbacks to the way he'd stared down the opposing team when I'd watched him play with Dad on TV. The intensity and focus in his gaze was overwhelming. "Business."
Mr. Match: The Boxed Set Page 71