Ethan swallowed his laughter. “You would have done that, that’s true. And I would have deserved it. Even now, I’m less than professional.” He recalled how they’d gotten on this subject in the first place. “I don’t think I can get away with treating Theo Smith like a toddler, even if he’s bratty.”
“Is he that difficult to work with?”
“No. Not really. If I’m honest, I think part of what bugs me is that I can tell he’s lashing out because someone hurt him. Maybe it’s Loren, or maybe it’s the general public. I want to feel sorry for him, or just sympathize with him, but he’s snarky and insulting and that puts me off and then I feel bad for being uncharitable when I know he’s going through something—” Ethan sighed. “Listening to myself right now, I realize I need to let it go. This guy’s problems aren’t mine. Once the assignment is done, he’s gone.”
“What has he said to insult you?”
Leave it to Max to pick up the detail Ethan should have kept to himself.
“It’s nothing. Really it wasn’t.” Ethan quickly drank the rest of his port and set the glass aside. He shifted to sit on Max’s lap and drape his arms over his shoulders. “I don’t want to bring work home. You’re home, and that’s the only thing that matters to me.”
“Don’t hide your problems from me, Ethan.” Max rested his hands on Ethan’s back and stroked soothingly. “I can easily switch you to another assignment.”
“He said he and his agent chose me specifically.”
“That means little to me if he’s making you uncomfortable.”
Ethan considered it, but shook his head. “I want to stay with him. I’m curious about why he wanted me. There’s something deeper happening here. I want to know what it is.”
“Famous last words.”
“Don’t I know it.”
~~~~~
Ethan poured himself a glass of watermelon juice before sliding the carafe to Max while yawning.
“You didn’t sleep well?” Max asked him.
“Off and on. I already feel like I need a nap.” Ethan cut into his white egg omelet and quickly speared a piece. “Didn’t affect my appetite, though.”
“Your schedule with Theo Smith has you downtown, at the grand opening of the Shades for Life pop-up store. After the photo-op, you’ll take him to a brief signing, lunch, and then a photoshoot at the Henderson airport.”
“Yes, it shouldn’t be bad. A signing is better than a fan photo event.” Ethan sent Max a look. “I’ll be fine, since you appear to be doubtful.”
“I’m not doubtful. If I were, another agent would be taking your place. I’m merely reminding you of your schedule and pointing out that you’ll be free for dinner if you’d care to join me.”
Ethan looked at him with interest. “That sounds like you have somewhere specific in mind.”
While they dined out frequently for work-related reasons, they usually preferred to stay in and enjoy each other’s company in the privacy of their home. With Max being relatively strict at work and Ethan out on assignments, their time together was limited to the occasional free lunch hour and what was left of their evenings.
Max stirred his yogurt. “I thought we might try out the Icelandic restaurant that opened near the office.”
“You mean the hottest new restaurant in the city? I heard that place is already booked out a month.”
Max clucked his tongue. “I wouldn’t suggest it as an option if I didn’t have a reservation.”
“Of course, you have a reservation,” Ethan said with a grin, impressed. “Well, I admit I don’t know anything about Icelandic food so I’d love to try it.”
“Excellent. Our reservation is at seven-thirty.”
“Couldn’t get seven, huh?” Ethan teased. Max had powerful connections throughout the city. If he truly wanted something, he could get it.
Max arched a brow. “I wanted to allow time for you to relax before we headed out.”
“Hmm. Either you mean that or you’re hoping for a quickie before we leave. I’m okay with, either.”
Max just shook his head and began eating. Only a couple of minutes later, his cellphone buzzed.
“Excuse me.” He checked the phone, his eyebrows rising, slightly. “It’s my mother.”
“Go ahead and take it here,” Ethan told him around a mouthful. “I don’t mind. Unless—”
“Nothing is private from you.” Max raised the phone to his ear. “Good evening, Mother. How are you?”
He listened for a moment. “Yes. He’s eating breakfast with me.” He glanced at Ethan, who paused, curious. “As I said, Mother. He’s eating.”
Ethan wiped his mouth with his napkin. “It’s okay. What does she want?”
After listening for a bit longer, Max sighed quietly. “Alright. Please hold on. I’ll place you on speakerphone.”
Ethan looked to him, mildly worried, but Max shook his head to assure him nothing was wrong. He placed the phone on the glass table between them and pressed for speaker.
“Hello, Mom,” Ethan said cheerfully, mostly just to mess with Max, who couldn’t quite contain his flinch at the familiar address.
Marcela Poole also needed time to get used to the moniker, for her voice stuttered. “G-Good morning, Ethan. Ah, Maxmillian tells me you’re enjoying breakfast? Please, am I interrupting you?”
“I just finished up. How are you?”
“I’m doing very well, thank you. I enjoyed a rather glorious day of picking out samples for the tablecloths for the reception. I’ve narrowed our selections down to thirteen beautiful options.”
Ethan shot Max a bewildered look.
“Mother,” Max said, his voice flat, “the venue will provide the linen.”
“Nonsense. Used linen? That’s not appropriate for a wedding.”
“Pretty sure they clean it,” Ethan offered.
“This wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime event. Your guests will not be eating off of linen used by children’s parties and Bingo, I assure you.”
Max shook his head, silently advising him to let it go when Ethan mouthed ‘Bingo?’
“Mother, you’re well familiar with the logistics of event planning. It’s impractical to purchase new tablecloths for the wedding.”
“I disagree, Maxmillian. We shall donate them to a needy organization afterwards.”
Ethan didn’t particular care about the tablecloths, but he did worry about something. “Have you, um, discussed this with my mom?” he asked as delicately as he could. “I’m pretty sure she’s already included the linen in her discussions with the venue.”
“In Indiana, yes, you are correct. However, I have been thinking...”
“No,” Maxmillian cut in, beginning to frown. “You are not moving the location of the wedding. It must be held in Indiana to allow Ethan’s parents to attend. I explained to you that they are uncomfortable traveling long distances.”
“I understand. Maxmillian, dear, you’re jumping to conclusions. I have no intention of moving the event. My suggestion merely is to expand its scope. You have so many friends and acquaintances who would love to attend, but a trip to the U.S. is so troublesome. Why not hold a second ceremony here at home? It wouldn’t be much trouble at all. This has been your home, after all, for most of your life, Maxmillian.”