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Max took another cookie then leaned back and put his feet up.
“Thank you. I always wrote. I scribbled horribly bad stories in beat-up notebooks when I was younger. I had some great teachers in high school and college that encouraged me. But I still knew I needed a degree in something that could pay the bills. That led to the mutual fund job, which was a disaster.”
Sophie laughed. “I would have died if I’d made a mistake like that.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t fun. I deserved to be fired. My mother was not thrilled when I went to bartending, though. She thought I was wasting my degree. But I liked it and the hours were great and freed up my days to write. Still, it was a few years before I got serious about it and really buckled down and tried to learn how to structure a decent story. I think I wrote three books before I felt like I had something worthy of being shown to an agent or publisher.”
“And that was published right away?”
Max laughed. “Not even close. I landed an agent, a well-regarded one. She recognized the good stuff in the book, but also wanted a lot of changes made. I resisted at first, but then realized the goal was to make the book better, and more marketable. And they were good suggestions. Once I made them, she sent it out and two publishers wanted it, which was pretty crazy.”
“And you were off and running,” Sophie said.
“Sort of. My books didn’t take off right away. I didn’t hitThe New York Timeslist until book four and that was the book that changed everything.”
“That wasNot My Family?” It was the first book of Max’s that she’d read.
He nodded. “Yeah, it was a bigger book, and everything seemed to come together for it. Film rights were sold, and the movie actually got made. That alone made things go crazy. It’s been a wild ride ever since. But enough about me. What about you? Did you always know you wanted to do real estate sales one day?”
Sophie laughed hard at that. “It had never crossed my mind. I guess I’m a late bloomer. I never had a career that I was passionate about. I worked in the legal field after graduating, but I never loved it. That’s why I temped when I came here. I knew I wanted to be in the city. The first day on the job at Fulton, when I typed up the morning meeting notes and browsed the office listings, I felt a thrill. Like that was where I was supposed to be, and the industry I was waiting on.”
“It’s your passion,” Max said.
Sophie hadn’t looked at it that way before. “I think it is, actually. When we get a new listing, I get excited and start trying to picture who would want to live there. Who would it be a match for? I feel like what I do is matchmaking in a sense. It’s finding out what someone wants and giving them the perfect new home that satisfies those wants. I don’t want to jinx myself, but at the open house, that guy who said he wanted to bring his wife back on Monday—I can see him living in that unit. It fits. Hopefully it will be a match for his wife, too. It might not be.”
“Well, if it’s not, you can find them something else. He does seem ready to buy,” Max said.
“He does. I don’t want to get my hopes up though. I’ve already seen how things can fall apart unexpectedly.” Sophie realized that sounded kind of wishy-washy and it didn’t reflect how she truly felt. She tried again. “I really want this to work out, really badly. Not just this deal but real estate as a career. I am determined to figure it out and be successful.”
Max held her gaze for a moment, then smiled slowly. “I think you’re going to do just fine. You seem driven and I think that’s the key to success with anything….putting in the effort needed to get to where you want to go. Because nothing is easy, and most people give up.”
Sophie realized he was right. Most people did give up when things got hard. She’d thought of giving up herself more than once, but each time she pushed through and didn’t give into her doubts.
“Is it harder for you to write now? Or are you able to channel the heartache and laser focus on your writing?” Sophie asked.
Max grinned. “I think my lack of writing today would say there is no laser focus going on here. It’s a day-by-day thing. I’m trying to get better about not letting the breakup slow me down too much. And sometimes I can use it if I’m writing an emotional scene. While my books are never based on real people, there are bits and pieces of me and my life in all the books.”
“Do you think you’ll want to start dating soon? Is it better to get right back out there?” Sophie asked.
Max looked surprised by the question and Sophie immediately regretting asking it.
“I’m sorry. If that’s too personal, never mind. I was just curious how it affects your writing,” she tried to explain.
“No, it’s fine. Honestly, I can’t imagine dating anyone right now. I seem to need to wallow a bit and feel sorry for myself when I have a breakup. And I tend to lose myself in work for a while, weeks even a month or two, until suddenly I’m just ready. I’m nowhere near that point now.”
“That’s understandable. I’d probably take a long break too.”
“Do you want to watch something else?” Max asked. It was still early, just a little past eight.”
“Sure, I can stay for one more.”
They found a new detective series that looked promising on Netflix and watched the first episode. When it finished, Sophie had to fight back a yawn. She stood. “I should head home. I have a big day tomorrow.”
Max walked her to the door. “Good luck, hope the wife loves it.”
“Thanks, Max. Hope tomorrow is a good writing day for you, too.”
He hugged her goodbye. She loved the way his arms felt wrapped around her. The contact was brief though. Max pulled back and smiled down at her. “Sleep well, Sophie.”
