A few other headlines have “billionaire” after his name.
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. My brain stutters as it tries to answer the why’s of Max Bauer.
I research Aiden Pearson and find he’s part of the ownership of a few social media platforms.
Why would they be trying to hide their identities in a place where most people wouldn’t even know who they are? Then again, maybe they get bombarded by people often.
Am I turned off now that I know Max is a gazillionaire? A little.
The omission of details is what’s hard to swallow. What was real and what wasn’t? Has he been hanging out with me as a community-service project?
Maybe it would be better for him to go back to New York and just let us live our lives here. He can hire an actual inspector and let us, me more specifically, move on. Jaded, but stronger.
I shut the computer and hurry downstairs, knowing I’ve been at least ten minutes and don’t want to put the burden on my employees for too long, especially on this first big day.
There’s a long line, and I’m grateful for everyone coming to support our business, but my brain keeps going back to everything I know about Max and struggling to put him together with the guy I read about online.
We close shop around noon, and Lila is already off bikingwith her friends along the beach at one of the activities. It’s either that or surfing, and I don’t really feel like doing either right now, but I guess biking would be the easiest, so I don’t get wet or seriously injured on a wave. Sure, I’ve been surfing a few times, but I’ve never quite mastered the art of catching the wave at the right time. I guess you could say that I was swimming with a surfboard rather than actually surfing.
The temptation to stay in my apartment and let the world move on without me is high. My chest is tight, and I’m doing my best to keep from crying.
Because in what world would Avery Parker attract the attention of a billionaire?
34
AVERY
Apparently, the man fixing sinks in rolled-up sleeves and okay with eating takeout on a chair that could double as a pincushion makes more money than I’ll see in five lifetimes.
Instead of wallowing, I walk over to the bike shop at the other end of town and wait in the line. I feel like I’ve been in a lot of lines lately, and while I appreciated the ones at my shop, I’m extra tired today and not sure if my social battery is functioning.
Or maybe my brain is just muddled and still bugged over the Max debacle. The man is a mystery. He was okay with an air mattress, yet he has a lot of zeroes in his net worth. He could probably just create his own house with no problem, as if he has a magic genie in a bottle and unlimited wishes.
I try to smile at the people around me and am grateful no one is attempting to talk to me right now.
Except there is.
“Hey, I thought you were going to text me when you got done,” Max says from behind me.
I turn around slowly. “Oh, I just needed to get out after my shift.”
He frowns. “Are you okay?”
I want to lie and say I’m totally fine, but I did that for so many years with Curt, and it never really did me any good. And if I bottle up my feelings now, it’ll be worse later.
“I’m a little frustrated, Max, to be honest.”
He takes a step closer and reaches out for me, touching my elbow as if I’m about to faint. Maybe that’s just a gentlemanly way to be a good guy. Or a way to persuade people because they’re distracted by manners.
I take a slow step back and look at him. “Why didn’t you just tell us you’re Max Bauer?”
His jaw goes slack, and he looks like I’ve just hit him. He glances down and it takes so long before he looks back up at me.
“I wanted to tell you, and I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to explain it to you. I needed anonymity when I came here. A break from life to regroup and figure out a clear path forward.”
“A break, huh? That’s good to know.” I turn forward, breathing in deeply before I say anything I might regret.
Max reaches out for my shoulder and turns me slowly. “It was a break at first, a needed vacation after years of work first and only. But being here has made me realize that I’ve been alive without really living. I’ve been blinded to things, good things, that didn’t relate to a grocery store empire. Penrose Beach has shown me just how much I’m lacking.”
