“Who’s this?” She passed me a cocktail and nodded toward Scott.
“Scott’s one of the artists being featured tonight.”
“Nice to meet you, Scott.” Maggie tilted her head and smiled wolfishly. “The helpful bartender actually just pointed you out and warned me to keep away. She said you come in all the time pretending to be one of the artists who lives out of town, but you’re actually a barista over at Café Europa on Sixty-Eighth Street.”
The guy scowled and turned on his heel to walk away.
My mouth hung open. “Seriously? What the heck?”
Maggie shook her head. “Creep. I don’t get some men. Haven’t they ever heard of Tinder? There are women looking for nothing more than a hookup. So why do they need to play games like that?”
I shook my head. “I’m never dating again. I wasn’t even slightly interested in that guy, yet I totally believed he was the artist and lived in LA. Am I that gullible?”
“No, he’s just that big of a jerk.”
I sighed and sipped my drink. “I miss Max.”
“I know you do, honey.”
“Maybe I made a mistake telling him I needed to stop seeing him before he left at the end of the summer. I should get loaded and booty-call him.”
Maggie grimaced. “He’s actually gone. I’m pretty sure he left this morning.”
My brows drew together. “How do you know?”
She chewed her bottom lip. “I wasn’t going to say anything, because you seemed to be doing a little better each day, but I saw him yesterday.”
“Saw him? Where?”
“Across the street from our office.”
“What was he doing across the street?”
Maggie sipped her drink. “Staring at our building.”
“What are you talking about?”
She heaved a loud sigh. “I left to go to the printer at eleven, remember?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, when I walked out, I noticed a guy across the street. He was wearing a baseball hat and sunglasses, but I thought it looked like Max. I figured it was my imagination. I came back a half hour later, and when I turned the corner, I looked over and the guy was still standing there, just sort of watching our building. So I crossed over before he saw me and went to take a closer look. Sure enough, it was Max.”
“I don’t understand. He was just standing there?”
She nodded. “I said hello and asked him what he was doing. I think he considered lying, but then he said he was waiting for you to come out for lunch. I said he should go in and see you, because we’d ordered in. But he said he didn’t want to bother you, that he hadn’t planned on saying anything to you when you eventually came out. He just wanted to see you again before he left.”
“So he was just going to stand there and what? Look at me silently like a stalker?”
Maggie nodded.
The story made no sense. “That’s all he said?”
“I asked him why he wouldn’t just go in and say goodbye in person, and he said it would just make it harder for you. Honestly, I thought he was right, so I didn’t say anything because you’d just started to come to work without puffy eyes the last few days.”
I shook my head. “This is exactly what I don’t understand. If he cares about me enough to stand outside our building for hours just to see me from a distance, how could he not want to at least try to make things work?”
“I don’t know. I wish I had that answer for you.”
“Was that it? He didn’t say anything else?”
“I asked him when he was leaving, and he said today. He’d pushed up his moving date and mumbled something about some charity game he’d agreed to play in that was in a few weeks—as if that was the reason he was leaving.” She shook her head. “So I told him he was a coward with his head up his ass, and I left.”
I smiled sadly. That sounded about right.
“Are you mad I didn’t say anything?”
“No. I get why you didn’t. I know you always have my back.”
She slung her arm around my shoulder. “Good. Then drink up. Because tonight we are getting sloshed and blowing off any man who tries to come near us.”
Three hours later, it was mission accomplished. It was barely midnight—most young people were only starting to go out now—yet I was slurring and ready for bed. Maggie came home with me to make sure I got in okay, and she decided to crash on my couch rather than go across town to her apartment. She pulled my favorite sweats and T-shirt from my drawer, and after I changed, she tucked me into bed like a child.
“You good? You’re not going to puke on me, are you? Do you need a bucket or anything?”
“Only for my tears.”
She grinned. “Do you think your tears would be extra salty from all the margaritas?”