“Fiona told me she’d heard friendship was overrated,” Max drawled. “Right before she kissed me.”
Mateo laughed, shook his head. “I made a lot of money on that bet.”
Max elbowed him in the side. “Which I hope you used to buy us these coffees. Where’s Rafael, by the way?”
“At the bodega, picking up breakfast sandwiches.”
“I love your fiancé,” I said.
“Same,” Max and Mateo said in unison. Max continued, “Once we’ve eaten, Fiona has a color-coordinated flow chart of setup and prep. And I’m organizing the sound check for all the bands and working with Pop to get this place cleaned up.”
Mateo nodded. “We’ve got art installations coming today.” He glanced at Max. “And your mom is coming?”
His tone was measured, but I caught the slight clench of Mateo’s jaw. Max had told me all about his mother’s surprise return home, although their breakfast at the Westway Diner seemed to make him both happy and confused. I understood that gray area. And it sounded like his mother was the kind of person who operated solely in that kind of confusing space.
I watched Max brighten. “She is, yeah. And I reminded her a ton, so I know she’ll be here. She hasn’t seen The Red Room in ages, and, well…” He looked at me, hope on his face. “She wants to meet my friend here.”
I winked at Max. “I’m nervous.”
“She’ll adore you.”
“I can confirm that,” Mateo added.
“And you’ll know when she arrives. She’s got a presence,” Max said. He seemed excited, a little nervous, and I wasn’t used to seeing him like this. His earnest anticipation was too cute—but I didn’t miss Mateo’s mixed-signals body language.
The back door opened, and Rafael strolled in, arms full of food.
“I’ll go help him,” Max said, squeezing my fingers one last time. The second he was out of earshot, I caught Mateo’s eye. He grimaced, like he knew what was coming.
“I know you’ve got a slightly different opinion of his mom,” I said softly. Mateo crossed his arms over his chest and let out a long breath.
“Barbara is… a lot to handle,” he said. “She’s charming, big personality, magnetic. Max worshiped her when we were in school. It was easy to do. She was never around, so he only knew the fun parts of her, the wild adventure parts.” He lowered his voice, stepped close. “I might sound like an asshole here, but Barb doesn’t usually show up for things. She blew off his damn graduation ceremony.”
I winced, feeling a sharp pinch above my heart. I hated thinking about Max being left like that. “You don’t think she’s coming tonight?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve spent a lot of time watching that woman disappoint my best friend. He’s like a puppy with a shitty owner around her. I want to be wrong, for Max’s sake. But she’s never been that kind of mother, that kind of person.”
I thought about the night on the fire escape, Max’s firm declaration that he never stayed, never put down roots. Wasn’t the marrying kind. He’d modeled his entire life after his mother’s choices.
“What kind of person is that?” I asked. My stomach hollowed.
“The kind of person who shows up for her loved ones. Who cares,” Mateo said. “The kind of person who sticks around.”
I hid my own frown behind my coffee cup. We both watched Max and Rafael, laughing at some joke, as they set up a spread of delicious-smelling breakfast food. Seeing the way Max had opened himself up to his community again had been a magical thing. It had been one of the deciding factors for me, opening myself up to the chaos of this new relationship and all of its terrifying unknowns.
Max wasn’t his mom.
But I found myself hoping—for Max’s sake and my own—that she’d follow through on her commitments tonight.
That those itchy feet of hers would find reason to stay. Even for just a short while.
37
Fiona
Hours later, I watched as Max, Mateo, and Rafael pulled at once, raising a giant, red neon sign above the stage.
“A little bit higher,” I called. “Like an inch.”
They all grunted but complied. I stepped back, examined their handiwork.
Perfection.
“It’s fucking beautiful,” I yelled, clapping as I pictured what it would look like. As promised, Mateo backed up, almost to the ledge. Clicked a button.
Bold red lettering spelled out Save The Red Room! It was punk rock and new wave inspired, designed and donated by Mateo, and seeing it up there made my heart grow three sizes in the space of three minutes.
Three bands walked by, waving at me as they did so. I waved back, then checked them off my list. The morning and afternoon of setup had flown by. Doors were opening in less than an hour, and every band had rotated through a sound check and a warm-up. Max and Mateo had covered the walls in Mateo’s posters, and Rafael and I had strung red Christmas lights across the ceiling. The room thrummed with magic. And we were expecting all 350 ticketholders to show.
In a nod to my Quinn heritage, I’d changed out of my workout clothes and into my old Blondie shirt and best ripped jeans plus Roxy-inspired boots that I could use to kill a man if I wanted. The sister in question was with Edward and Pop, up in the office, putting the final touches on a draft revenue plan. It was early, early stages—and they’d be meeting consistently months from now—but my sister understood that the sooner these plans started to take shape, the better the long-term outcome could be.
Standing here, surrounded by energy and music and amps and instruments and electric, neon lights made me feel so goddamn invincible I wanted to cry. I felt this way the day I graduated from law school. I felt this way when I got the call from Cooper Peterson Stackhouse. I felt this way while dancing with my sister and singing along to good music and watching my parents tease each other while warming up in the back. I was trying hard these past five days not to overanalyze as much, so I made a real attempt not to read into the sensations rippling from my heart.
They were sensations that made me think of home. That made me think of identity and family and nostalgia.
And then Max walked up to me with that infamous grin, kissing me on the cheek, and my heart entered a whole other stage of intensity.
“You look stunning, princess,” he said.
I arched one brow. “Should have brought my tiara.”
His grin was wicked. “And I’m still available to sneak into that bed of yours.” There were a few shouts from the back. Max raised a hand, nodded, began walking backwards towards the stage. “I’m gonna circle up with the bands, check in with everyone. Doors open in thirty.”
And I hate to break it to ya, but I really don’t think we’re friends anymore.”
I gazed at his retreating back longingly, wondering where on earth his mom was. Because she hadn’t shown yet.
“I can’t believe you thought that guy wasn’t going to be the one to destroy your pledge of light celibacy.” Roxy appeared out of nowhere with a smug look.
I scowled at my sister. “Did you just come here to talk shit?”