Page 74 of Smooth Sailing
“We are on our way but will probably be late,” she told her mom. “We’re stuck in hellish traffic. And I’ll be even later because after I drop off Felix and Abigail, I need to drop off Max at his house and pick up my car.”
“He’s that man you’re working on the big project with, right?”
“That ain’t all they’re doing,” Felix muttered.
Max made a choking sound and twisted around, his eyes wide. Paloma’s pulse jumped, and she reached into the back seat and pinched her brother; at the same time, Abigail swatted him on the shoulder.
“What was that, Felix?” their mom asked.
“I said they’re having a ball,” Felix replied. “They make a great team.”
“Ah, okay. Well, bring him along. There’s plenty of food, and I’d love to meet him properly.”
A slight tremor rippled through her fingertips, spreading like wildfire up her arms. The idea of Max meeting her parents—especially her father with his razor-sharp judgments—amplified the jitters until she hummed with nervous energy. She glanced at him. He raised an eyebrow in question. His easy demeanor only intensified her worry; this might be a casual invite for him, but not her. She didn’t bring men to meet her family. The only other man had been her ex-fiancé.
“I don’t know, Mom,” Paloma hedged. “It’s kind of last minute, and I’m sure Max has other plans.” She didn’t want him to feel obligated, but a small part hoped he’d want to come, even if her father would be there.
“Nonsense!” her mother declared. “Max? Hi, are you there?”
“I am,” he replied.
“Do you have plans this evening?”
“Um, no.”
“Perfect. Would you please join us for dinner?”
He looked at Paloma, but she couldn’t read his expression. She shrugged and mouthed, “Up to you.”
In a neutral tone that gave away nothing, he said, “I’d love to. Thank you, Mrs. Wagner.”
She continued to search his face but couldn’t decipher if his acceptance was mere politeness or genuine interest. His gaze met hers, and all he offered was a slight smile.
“Wonderful. I’ll let Clifton know. He’ll be thrilled to meet you.”
Paloma barely suppressed a snort. Her father, thrilled? It’s more like he’d be sharpening his verbal knives, ready to grill Max about his business, plans, and life story. Then, her dad would move on to her.
After hanging up, Max asked, “Is Clifton your dad?”
She nodded.
“I thought he was designing a beachfront resort in California?”
“He is, but it’s mid-project, so he’s visiting before things pick up closer to the opening.” After a pause, she said, “You don’t have to come. It’s short notice, and my family can be . . . a lot.”
“No, shit,” Max laughed, twisting around, giving Felix the stink eye.
“What?” her brother said, all false innocence.
“I’m going so I can poison your potatoes,” he told Felix.
Paloma narrowed her eyes at the rearview mirror. “Don’t worry. I was already planning on it.”
“What! Hey, I’m just spicing up the family dinner! We don’t want things as bland as Dad’s desserts.”
Max laughed, but she caught a glimmer of apprehension in his eyes. He was probably second-guessing his decision to join this family chaos.
“Well, next time serve a dish from your life, Flea,” Paloma shot back, trying to sound mad but failing. It was difficult when Max was pushing his seat back, squishing Felix. Their laughter and Abigail’s giggles filled the car, momentarily drowning out the frustration of being stuck in traffic.
