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Dave frowned because the point had quickly gotten away from him. “I’m not dating her. I just don’t think you’re being fair.”
“I know that, you damn apologist,” Max grumbled. “Can’t you just let me be suspicious?”
Dave struggled with how to respond. He wasn’t trying to drive anyone crazy. He just really hated misunderstandings.
Before he had settled on what to say next, Sabine returned with Max’s drink.
“Here you go.” She handed him the bottle. “This one is my best friend’s favorite. She’s also celiac.”
Max took the bottle but kept that suspicious expression firmly affixed to his face. “Thank you. Not many people take me seriously.”
Sabine rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. She can hardly go anywhere. No one cares enough to be careful.”
Max regarded her carefully.
“You know who he is?” Max asked point blank, nodding his head at Dave.
“Yes?” Sabine replied, confused.
Max leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “What do you know?”
“Oh my God, Max. You have got to chill. Just let the woman do her job.” Leslie was nearing an end in his patience.
Sabine slid her hands into the front pocket of her apron and smiled at Max. “I get it. He’s your friend. You’re just being protective.” Her eyes bounced to Dave’s for a second before returning to Max with a playful gleam. “He’s Sunshine Capone, the voice of a generation.”
Dave groaned out loud.
Max grinned. All bitchiness dissolved in his brilliant, gleaming smile.
“Please don’t call me that,” Dave protested. “I’m just Dave. And I just want to eat wings, pizza, and watch some basketball with my friends.” He glared at Max
“But that’s what he is,” Max agreed with earnest glee. “I came up with that.”
“I like your shirt, by the way,” Leslie changed the subject.
Sabine glanced down at her threadbare ringer tee with the Star Wars logo emblazoned across her chest. It was a faded cream color and the rings around the sleeve and collar were maroon. She was also wearing jeans that hugged her backside in a way Dave shouldn’t be noticing.
Except he had noticed.
“Thanks. It’s a favorite.”
“Are you a fan of the movies or just of the shirt?” Leslie continued conversationally.
Dave knew where he was headed with this. LeslielovedStar Wars. Not the way other people loved Star Wars. But like the way people loved their children.
It was as uncomfortable as it sounded.
He would talk about Star Wars to anyone he could, anywhere he could. He barely needed a reason.
One time Dave had had to force him to leave a certain important White Party thrown by a certain important person because he got into a heated debate about whether Jar Jar was actually supposed to be the Phantom Menace.
“Huge fan of the movies,” Sabine replied. “And the shirt is vintage. I found it in a bin in…” She trailed off like she’d decided in the middle of her sentence that she didn’t want to reveal where she’d gotten the shirt.
“It’s not the official uniform?” Leslie asked.
They hadn’t explored the rest of the bar. They’d come through the back entrance with his security escort. Dave wanted to explore but he’d agreed with Leslie and Max’s suggestion to let one of them get the vibe first.
Sometimes being famous was more of a pain than it was worth.
