“He’s…” Max hadn’t meant for his voice to rise and crack and coughed to cover it. “He’s cool,” he said, remembering Reid’s advice to keep his answers vague and simple.

“He’s cool?”

“Yes?” Max countered because he thought that was an accurate way to describe Reid. He was as cool as ice and had a will as unyielding as steel.

“Oh, my God! You really like him!” she accused, excitably, as she came around the island to deposit her bowl in the sink.

Max reared back. “What?”

“You’re blushing and you just made a weird sighing sound.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“What’s his name?”

“Reid,” Max replied, squeezing his eyes shut when his face got warmer. “He’s fine.”

“Ha! He must be. How did you meet?”

“Agnes. You know Agnes and Walker. Agnes introduced us,” he rambled and Mia brightened.

“I love Agnes! She’s the best.”

“She is,” he agreed easily, earning a soft chuckle from Mia.

“You know, I used to wonder why you couldn’t have married her instead.”

Max was taken aback again, but he humphed thoughtfully and nodded, carefully planning his response. This was the most they had talked in weeks and he hadn’t managed to piss her off or stick a foot in his mouth yet. “I think my parents might have approved, but Agnes would never have agreed. And she’s rather happy with her wife,” he noted, offering Mia an apologetic smile. “We could invite them too, some time, and I know Agnes would be over the moon if we showed up on her doorstep.” She had moved onto their street a little more than two years ago and it was a shame that they went so long without seeing Agnes with her family.

“Maybe. I need to get going or I’ll be late for school,” Mia said and Max could feel her withdrawing and putting the conversation behind her.

“I could give you a ride. I already called for a limo and I…don’t know what to wear tomorrow.” That wasn’t a lie either and he planned to ask Agnes, but Mia’s first concern before going anywhere was what the dress code was. So, it seemed like a safe topic and a way to keep her engaged.

“Right…” She chewed on her lip, glancing up from her phone. “You definitely need help because you can’t wear that.” She wrinkled her nose at Max’s plaid pewter suit.

“What’s wrong with this?” He looked down at himself, suddenly self-conscious.

Mia pulled a face as she grabbed his wrist and headed for the door. He followed, mostly pleased but a little disappointed that she hadn’t taken his hand. She hadn’t done that since she was a little girl. “Nothing, if you’re on your way to a merger.”

“I am, in theory. Liberty Social’s people still think they can change my mind,” he murmured and Mia halted them, her face twisting as if she smelled something rotten.

“Ew! Not Liberty. It’s a right-wing dumpster. Nobody cool uses it.”

“I have no intentions of acquiring Liberty,” he promised her. In fact, he’d tell his team that Mia had forbidden it. Anyone who knew Max, knew his daughters were extremely liberal, and that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to indulge them.

They said goodbye to their housekeeper, Mary, on the way out and Max confirmed he’d be home for dinner as he put on his overcoat and took his briefcase.

“You’re not completely irredeemable, I guess.” Mia waved at one of their neighbors and thanked the driver as she got into the back of the limo.

“Shouldn’t you have a backpack?” Max asked as he ducked inside and sat next to her.

“For what?” she asked while swiping at her phone’s screen. “Everything’s in here and I stopped taking my lunch years ago.”

“I miss packing your lunch,” he sighed, earning another hard eye roll.

“Lucy packed my lunches.”

“I know, but I used to watch and make suggestions. It was my idea to include two juice boxes,” he informed her and she smiled.