Max snorted. “We’ll have Rioja too, please,” he told the woman, naming a brand. “Two glasses.”
As she nodded and walked off to fill the order, I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t drink.”
“A glass will calm you down.”
“Who says I need calming down?”
He smirked. “Me? I can see your pulse beating in your throat, Jessica. I think we need to calm you down before you have a heart attack.
“I mean, I know Giorgio’s pizza isn’t health food… so, really, you should have the heart attack after the pizza. It’s bad form to have it before.”
“Bad for his rep, you mean?” I asked, nodding sagely, even as my fingers fluttered to cover my throat, wanting to hide the visual proof of his effect on me.
His grin flashed. “Exactly. We don’t want to harm Giorgio; this neighborhood’s bad enough for business as it is.”
That had me snorting, but the server returned, eying us brightly as she awaited our orders.
Max waited patiently for me to place mine, and when it was his turn, he asked, “Just make it large for both of us to share.” When the server retreated, he told me, “I knew it was love at first sight. You’re a pepperoni girl.”
Amused, and flustered at his words, I replied, “None of that salami crap.”
His grin told me he agreed. “Pepperoni, FTW.”
Considering he sounded like some overgrown college grad, I had to snort. “FTW?”
“People still say that,” he argued.
“Yeah, when they’re twenty.” I winked at him. “I won’t hold it against you.”
“You’re all heart.”
I could tell he wasn’t offended though. In fact, I wasn’t sure exactly what would offend him.
In the face of that, it was easy to take a deep breath and come to the realization I could enjoy the night. There was no pressure here, I knew. Max was open and witty, caring and smart—well, the last was a no brainer. A man with his reputation? I knew his IQ preceded him. But it went deeper than that. He was intelligent enough to see I was fragile, and he reacted and treated me accordingly.
I appreciated that, and it helped me relax even more.
When the pizza arrived, they were joking about the Dolphins’ performan
ce that year, and Max started sobbing into his glass of red.
Despite myself, I had to burst out laughing. “You’re so melodramatic.”
His head popped up instantly and there was a twinkle in his eye as he declared, “I should have been a thespian.”
“Not a regular old actor for you, huh?” I teased.
“Nope. Only the bard’s work would be good enough for me.”
I cocked a brow. “Shakespeare? I’d never have put you down as a fan of Will.”
“Why not?”
“You have math geek written all over you,” I retorted, amused as I waved a hand in his direction while waiting for the deep dish to cool down some.
“I’ll have you know I have many strings to my bow.”
“You do?”