Vince glanced over again, his expression hard to read. “Can we go upstairs for a bit?”
“I don’t think there’s any need to,” Dani said, and Max swore he heard the second, unarticulated part of her sentence. Because there’s a mime up there already. He pressed his lips together so as not to smile.
“You have the papers?” Dani asked.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“All right.” She was deploying the same tone she’d used to wish “Happy holidays” to that boy pleading for an extension last Christmas.
“Could we . . . do that alone?” Vince asked.
“I don’t think there’s any need to,” she said again. Max was fairly certain Vince was wondering whether he and Dani were an item. He was happy to let that question go unanswered. Or, hell, if it would move matters along, he was happy to fan the flames a little. He took a step toward her.
“Berkeley and I broke up,” Vince blurted. “Last night. After the party.”
There was a beat while Dani absorbed that bit of news before she said, “Oh, that’s too bad.”
Vince seemed to be waiting for her to ask for details. Instead, she merely gazed evenly at him.
“Mistakes have been made,” Vince said as he took a step toward Dani. Max took another one, too, from the other direction, though he was cognizant of not wanting to turn this into some kind of duel. “I’m willing to admit that mistakes have been made.”
“Vince, you remember when you taught freshman comp?” Dani said suddenly. “That first year I arrived, you were stuck with two sections of it?” She looked over her shoulder at Max, as if including him in the conversation, and added, “He hated it.”
She turned back to Vince. “Remember the thing about avoiding passive language where possible? ‘Mistakes have been made’ is some top-notch passive language. You want to talk? Let’s talk about those mistakes. Let’s do me first. What mistakes have I made?”
“You really don’t think we have anything worth saving here, Dani?” Vince said, sidestepping her question entirely. “All our time together, just down the toilet?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. As if it wasn’t Vince himself who had done the flushing. Max clenched his jaw and exhaled, but the air through his teeth came out as a sort of whistle-growl, which drew both Vince’s and Dani’s attention—Dani looked over her shoulder briefly at Max before turning back to Vince.
“You know what?” Dani said. “I’m sorry I said that. There’s no point in talking about it. Why don’t you give me the papers, and—”
“Oh, you’re fucking a duke now, so you’re too good for me?”
“Baron, actually,” Dani said, and Max chuckled as he waited for her to correct the actual substance of the allegation.
She did not.
Max found he enjoyed being thought of as the kind of man Dani would choose as . . . what? Someone to sleep with? Someone to be with? Well, either or both. He would take whatever fake status she was conferring. He puffed up his chest, aware that while he might have avoided a duel, he was now acting as if he were in a nature documentary. He wouldn’t be surprised to suddenly hear David Attenborough’s voice narrating. Notice how the European male stakes his claim by straightening his spine and throwing his shoulders back.
Dani, back to being preternaturally calm, was staring at Vince with her eyebrows raised. Vince looked at Max, who smiled and pulled Max Minimus’s leash in a little. Yeah, asshole, I got the girl and the dog.
Of course, he actually had neither, but again, he was enjoying the fiction a great deal.
Vince slumped forward with a sigh. It was subtle, but David Attenborough noticed. The American male is signaling defeat. The documents required for the dissolution of his union with the American female are in the satchel he carries. Will he hand them over? It is not uncommon for an American male in this position to retreat in the hopes he will live to fight another day. See how he pauses with his hand in the satchel? But . . . there are the papers. He hands them over. He tries to catch the American female’s hand as he does so, but she’s too quick for him. The papers in hand, she retreats, moving to stand near to the European male and the small canine.
“Thanks, Vince,” Dani said, and suddenly her voice had more emotion in it.
“So this is it?” Vince said, holding out his palms as if she were robbing him. She was, in a way, Max supposed. She was taking herself from him. Her presence, her attention. Her all-around amazingness. Max had been gloating earlier, reveling in Dani’s obvious preference for him over Vince, but this was it. The end of a marriage. The culmination of a lot of struggle. And even though Dani was getting her wish, it was bound to be caught up in some mixed emotions.
“This is it,” Dani said quietly. “Goodbye, Vince.”
Max had the momentary fear that Vince wasn’t going to leave. He and Dani had nowhere to retreat, what with the mime upstairs. But Vince gave a little nod, said, “I’ll see you at work,” and turned to go.
They watched him in silence for what felt like an eternity. When he disappeared around a corner, Max turned to Dani.
She burst into tears.
Oh, shit. He closed the space between them and took her in his arms. He thought about saying something meant to comfort but decided not to. He simply held her.
After a few seconds, she pulled back and started trying to apologize.
“None of that.” He led her back to the ledge she’d been sitting on before, settled them both on it, and slung one arm around her shoulder.
“But why am I crying? I’m glad.” She shook the papers she was still holding. “I’m relieved. This is what I want.”
“Well, it’s still the end of an era, isn’t it?”
She blew out a breath and swiped at her eyes. “I guess it is. I’m mostly still so mad at myself. I wasted so much time with him. What was the matter with me? Where was my judgment?”
“People don’t change overnight, I don’t think,” Max said, thinking about how he and his brother were finding their way back to each other. Or hell, how they had fallen away from each other to begin with. Neither had been a smooth, linear process. “I don’t think it’s that useful to look at who he is now and ask what you saw in him. He must have had his redeeming qualities. You must have had some fun, once?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Eventually, the bitterness will fade, and you’ll be able to look back with equanimity. He’ll be a colleague for whom you have some fondness, or at least a colleague for whom you hold no rancor. It will just take a little time.”
“Why are you so good at giving breakup advice? Have you ever actually had a girlfriend?”
“I have not.” He smirked. “I’m just smart.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“A handkerchief! How old-world of you.” She blew her nose. “In the movies, you always see the guy giving the girl the hankie, but you never see what happens to it after it’s all snotty.”
“What happens is the girl keeps it.” A car pulled up in front of the building. “Ah, that’s my ride.” The driver emerged, and Max held up a finger to indicate that he was coming.