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He smiled as she walked to the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Pausing at the door, she said, “And lately, that means just about anything. See ya Monday, Max.”
Once alone, his mind turned back to his problem. Jeanine was right. He was happier…more free. Max didn’t ever want to return to the person he was a month ago. Before Anna, before this part of their relationship, she’d always been the bright part of his life. The one person who could always make him laugh no matter what. Losing her, he didn’t even want to think about it. There had to be some way, some plan he could come up with, to get Anna to admit that she loved him.
* * *
Anna satat a table in the back ofThe Last Drop, filling ketchup bottles. They’d had some heavy traffic the past few days, and she hadn’t had time to do the little things that needed to be done. The stress of the job was getting to her. Just today, she’d snapped at Myra for getting someone’s order wrong. And that wasn’t like Anna at all.
Anna sighed. She knew what the problem was—her relationship with Max. Keeping it at the level it was, not giving herself completely to him, was taking its toll on her nerves. Each day, she woke with the determination to keep herself aloof, to hold back. Max refused to even acknowledge her demeanor. He moved over her like some freaking steamroller. But at night, every fiber of her being wanted to shout out her love for him. His gentle passion, his aggressive play, all of it was driving her over the edge, pushing her past rational thinking.
“Anna, I was wondering if I could take off early.”
She glanced up from her task to find Myra eyeing her with trepidation. “No problem, Myra. And I am really sorry for losing my temper with you today.”
“Oh, no, I understand.” But even as she said it, Anna watched the tension drain from her posture. “With work and your relationship with Mr. Chandler—”
“What do you mean, my relationship with Max?” she asked sharply.
Myra tensed again, and Anna regretted her outburst. The poor girl looked as if she were ready to run.
Myra cleared her throat. “Well, I guess I assumed, like everyone else, that you two were an item.”
Oh, Lord. She’d tried her best to keep it under wraps because she was sure she wouldn’t be able to handle the pitying looks when Max and she broke up. She could take name-calling and dirty looks but pity…that would be the death of her. Anna looked down, staring blindly at the ketchup bottle in her hand. Everyone in town knew what a catch he was, and if they split, they’d speculate it was something she’d done.
“It’s just…”
When Myra didn’t finish, Anna looked up. “It’s just what?”
“Y’all aren’t seen out anywhere really any more than you were before. But he’s been here more than usual. And well, Anna, you all park in front of each other’s houses. You know how this town is.”
She nodded, not sure if she could find her voice. It wasn’t that bad. So everyone knew they were having an affair. Big deal. There might be a few bumps in the road when they split, but really, why was that so bad? Anna never cared about fitting in with people in her hometown. She loved it here, but that was it. From her teens on, she’d known she wasn’t a conformist.
And when they split up, she would move on, push ahead, find someone else. What would be the big deal if they pitied her? She knew that when it came down to it, both of them would decide that splitting was for the best. She’d been through the pity and embarrassment before—not to mention the nasty whispers. It wasn’t anything new.
“It’s okay, Myra. I completely understand. Go study for your finals.”
Relief filled Myra’s face.
Anna stood and started to gather the empty ketchup bottles when the bell on the door jingled. Without taking her attention away from her task, she said, “We’re closed for the day.”
When the person said nothing and didn’t leave, she looked up to find Cynthia shooting daggers at her.
“Oh, I think you may want to have a chat with me. It seems you’ve been fucking my fiancé.”
sixteen
For a moment,Anna couldn’t think. Who the hell was Cynthia talking about? Then, like a fifty-pound bag of coffee beans, it hit her.Max.She was claiming that he was still her fiancé.
“What do you mean?” Anna asked.
Cynthia walked down the aisle, avoiding the chairs that had been left out by customers. She was dressed in a pale green linen suit, not a hair out of place, her makeup perfectly applied. Damn, Anna hated cheerleaders. And Cynthia had been head cheerleader their senior year in high school.
“I think you know what I mean, Anna.”
At first, she couldn’t answer because she was a little taken aback by Cynthia’s gumption. She’d never really shown any when it came to confrontations. It was one of the reasons Anna had told Max that Cynthia was the wrong woman for him. He needed someone to stand up to him. Cynthia would have never said what she wanted with Max, even if she hated every moment of her life.
It was then that she realized Cynthia was waiting for an answer.
