Page 74 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
Doug was shaking as the caterers broke down the little cocktail tables to haul away. “Why would they buy all of them?” he asked, still in disbelief. In between the cleanup, he’d walk one direction and then the other, still in shock and unsure what to do with himself. It had been a tumultuous period in his life, and he was clearly working through the bad and now the good.
“Because this town loves you and the store,” Stevie said, hands on hips. “There wasn’t a single chance they’d let you go down because of a ridiculous power surge.” She studied the Weepers, who’d all stayed back to help. “And now that you’ve covered the gap in your funding, we can get started on cleanup. I’ll be there on Monday.”
“I’ll be by after work,” Morgan said. “There’s a faculty meeting, but I plan to steal the agenda and sneak away. Don’t turn me in.”
“I know a lawyer if you need one,” Max said with a wink.
The others chimed in, having all made arrangements to pitch in, and the whole thing just brought a big ole lump to Ella’s throat, because this was what real life was all about, coming together when a neighbor needed help. She knew they wouldn’t rest until Doug was back behind the counter, passive-aggressively judging every book placed on his checkout counterand mumbling to himself, while loving every minute of his time with his customers.
Tonight had been the first truly good night in a long time, and it wasn’t even over yet. “Get in here, Weepers,” Ella said, placing her flat hand in the center of their circle. “You too, Doug. You’re an honorary Weeper tonight.”
“Oh, good,” he said, wandering over.
Each member of the group tossed their hand on top, including Doug, and Ella beamed. “We came. We mingled. We sold every damn book in this place. There’s nothing we can’t do. Weepers on three. One, two, three.”
“Weepers,” shouted the group.
And that brought the night to a close.
Ariana and Morgan began to dance to the club music that one of the caterers played from her phone. Stevie, Olive, and Doug were carpooling and gathered their belongings, along with an extra tray of brownies that the catering company had gifted them.
That left her and Max.
TWENTY
The Great Martini Swap
Noticing the charged glances passing between Max and Ella, the rest of the group got the message. With a flurry of friendly goodbyes and quick packing, they filtered out one by one, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet hum of the nearly empty room. Only the custodial staff remained, their movements methodical as they tidied the last traces of the event.
Max stood there for a beat, heart ticking faster than she let on. “So …” she said, a soft smile playing on her lips as she let out a breath. “There’s a bar two blocks from here that stays open late during the week. Totally walkable.” Max tilted her head slightly, the corner of her mouth lifting in invitation. “I’m buying, if you’re up for it. What do you think?” She held her breath, unsure if she’d been too forward. It felt like a moment balanced on the edge of something hopeful and terrifying all at once.
Ella’s eyes lit up, and the visual was an anchor in the storm. She relaxed and smiled without trying. “I skipped all the champagne opportunities tonight simply because I didn’t have a spare second to enjoy a glass, so I would love a drink, actually, and am refusing to pay a cent.”
“Sounds like a match to me.”
Downtown was in that late-night lull, the space between the late dinner crowd and last call. Some places had gone dark already—boutique windows empty, chairs flipped onto tables —but others still glowed soft and inviting. The coffee shop on the corner was open late, and a couple of college kids hunched over laptops in the window. Somewhere farther down the block, music spilled out of the cracked door of a dive bar, laughter trailing after it.
Max didn’t let herself reach for Ella. Not yet. But every step they took together down Main Street felt like easing pressure off a bruise she’d been pretending didn’t hurt.
She’d missed this. Not just Ella, though, yeah, that was a constant ache—but thiswithher. Walking side by side like it was easy. Like it was allowed.
Dirty Little Secret was a popular martini bar in town, and it was still bustling when they walked through the main room, which housed the bar. The plastic high-top tables were all occupied, and they waited at the host stand for directions.
“Hey there, Max. Please feel free to seat yourself,” Peter said. She’d gone to high school with Peter (Go Huskies!) and had handled his sister’s divorce two years prior.
“Thanks, Peter. Busy tonight.”
“Everyone knows Peter,” Ella murmured.
“Oh, you’ve been here before?”
She nodded. “With Rachel. Many a cucumber martini. Mild headache the next day.”
“Well, Marco makes the best. Want to see if there’s space in the back? It’s likely quieter. We can … talk.”
“I’ll follow you.”
The sentence was innocuous but sent a shiver down Max’s spine, signaling that her body was ready to catch up to what her heart was already reaching for. Hope was a tricky thing. She wasn’t sure whether to tamp it down or release it more fully.
