Page 11 of Set to Love

“I . . . I hope you’ll come back to Lina’s for dinner again. Or lunch,” I add quickly. “Our tortellini is my favorite thing on the menu.” I lower my voice. “Maybe just don’t bring Miller.”

Max chuckles, leaning a bit closer to the rail. He winks. “No, I won’t. I promise when I come back, it’ll just be me.”

Another beat of silence passes, thick and awkward. I’m breathless and can’t get any words out.

Lina sighs, throwing her hands up. “You girls need to stop being so subtle. Just ask the man already.”

“I was sending her a signal!” Zoe mutters defensively.

“Lina,” I groan.

Max tilts his head, watching the three of us with pure amusement. “Ask me what?”

“For your number,” Lina says, significantly louder than I’d like. “You’re her type, and you two should spend some time together before you leave town.”

I think my face was already the shade of a sunburnt tomato, but it’s turning fire-engine red. Lina has no filter, and right now, I want to banish her to the kitchen pantry. Or to the basement of the Paris Opera House.

“That’d be brilliant, actually,” Max says, reaching into his pocket. He doesn’t look weirded out. He looks as if he’s been waiting for an opening. “I’d like to hang out too. Here. If you text yourself with my mobile, you’ll have my number.”

He places the phone in my hand. It’s warm from his pocket. I just stare at the screen.

“Katie,” Zoe urges, snapping me out of my daze.

“Right. Sorry.” I type in my number as Max watches. His attention is steady enough to make my fingers fumble. But a second later, I feel my own phone buzz in my clutch. So I haven’t totally screwed this up. Yet.

“Here.” I hand the phone back to him, our fingers brushing for a split second. A small jolt of electricity shoots through my body.

He tucks the phone back into his hoodie pocket, his thumb brushing over the screen. “I should get on the bus before they leave me,” he says, offering a final, lingering look that makes my stomach do a slow somersault. “I’ll text you once I get my schedule.”

“Sounds good,” I manage.

We watch him jog toward the bus, his bag swinging against his hip. He stops at the door to give one last wave before disappearing inside. The second he’s out of sight, I deflate against the metal barricade and let out a deep breath. Then I groan, burying my burning face in my hands.

Lina shrugs. “You were taking too long, cara. Someone had to provide the spark. You can thank me later. Perhaps after the first kiss.”

“You said it, Lina.” Zoe gives me a look. “If we’d left it up to you, Katie, you would have thanked him for his performance and shaken his hand like a business associate. Now you have a date with him.”

“Not a date,” I argue, though the buzzing in my clutch says otherwise.

Zoe and Lina look at one another, then back at me. Thankfully, they remain silent.

“Come on, let’s head back to the car. I enjoyed tonight, but my bedtime was about an hour ago. Some of us have to be up at four,” I tell them.

Lina laughs. “Katie, take tomorrow off. I’ll have Randy come in early. The boy is always asking for more hours, anyway.”

I stop in my tracks, blinking at her. “But tomorrow is Friday. That’s one of our busiest days of the week.”

“We’ll be fine. I’ll see you Saturday,” Lina says, ending the discussion.

“What am I supposed to do with myself?” I sputter.

It’s a genuine question. Every day and every hour of my life, except for Thursdays, is carefully blocked and accounted for. If I want to do something fun like meet Zoe for dinner outside my one day off, it means rearranging my entire week.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Lina quips.

“And if you can’t,” Zoe adds, clicking her key fob as we reach the car, “I’m sure Max can help you brainstorm.”

“There you go.” Lina winks.