Page 59 of Going All In

That is not something. That is a pest control problem, not a pet. Would the cockroach I saw scuttling across the lobby the other day besomethingin the way of a pet as well?

I decide it’s better not to bring it up. Based on his expression, I think he’d be personally offended and call PETA if I admitted that I sprayed Raid in all the corners of our place after I saw the roach. Better not bring that up. I need his cooperation here.

I try to change tactics. “I’m more into movies, TV, that sort of thing. Books, too. My favorite is CSI, or maybe Law and Order.”

“Oh! I love those shows. Anything crime related. And books on serial killers. Do you know much about Ted Bundy?” Zachary displays the same rabid enthusiasm toward serial killers as he does toward pets, which is mildly concerning.

Should I tell him serial killers usually start out as sociopaths who torture and kill animals before turning to humans?

“I can’t say that I do.”

Zachary launches into a soliloquy about Ted Bundy, which comes across as suspiciously admiring of the serial killer. I’m ready to give up on this guy, but I need his help.

Wedding date.

Fifty grand.

For Julio.

Focus, Holly.

“Here you are. One chicken piccata, one burger with fries. Would you like me to grab you some ketchup or other sauces for that?” The waitress sets my plate—chicken piccata—down with a flourish, then practically tosses Zachary’s well-done burger in front of him.

“No thanks. I prefer my burger and fries plain.” He gives her a beaming smile.

Plain?

I get that not everyone is as into my hot-sauce-and-mayo concoction. But most people would putsomethingon their burger, or at least the fries. I smile to myself. Maddox would be drowning that sucker in ketchup.

Maddox.

I watch Zachary take another bite of his charred burger, seeing things even more clearly.

Zachary’s not the one I want to sit here with. He’s not the one I want to tell about my day and play board games with and cuddle in bed.

And as the realization dawns, I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Hard. JJ’s right. She usually is, but typically not in a way that hits home so hard. Every minute I sit here is hurting Maddox. I owe him more than this.

My hangups about this whole wedding date thing came from a place of pain that’s lingered for the last three years. I’m not going to solve it by hurting someone else.

I put my fork down. “I’m so sorry, Zachary. I enjoyed meeting you. But I need to leave.” I stand up so suddenly that the napkin on my lap falls to the floor.

Zachary looks a bit stunned but not heartbroken, which is a relief, but only slightly.

I put some money on the table to cover my dinner as I slide my coat on. “I’m sorry,” I say again.

* * *

How did it take five minutes to get here and it’s taking five hours to get home? I need to get back to my place so I can call Maddox. I know he’s at a tournament, so maybe he can’t even talk, but I need to tell him everything. I need him to hear the whole story about my mom’s funeral, no matter how much it hurts to talk about. I want to tell him about how I went out with Zachary tonight, and why, and hope like hell he can forgive me. I just hope it’s not too late.

I practically run across the lobby when the rideshare drops me off at our building. The elevator takes longer than usual, too. I drum my fingers against my side impatiently.

My phone is in my hand when I put the key in the lock and push the apartment door open, but as soon as I do, I gape at the scene in front of me.

What’s Maddox doing here?

20

MADDOX

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