Page 50 of Until Now
Dominique
“Tell me more about this, Maxen. It sounds like a once in a lifetime opportunity for you.”
“It’s something I’ve had in my sights for a long time.”
Keeping his eyes on the road, we approach the parking lot of Jack Rye’s Steakhouse. Hopefully, July and Wes will be there already and have a table for us. I’m looking forward to a proper dinner and a few cocktails.
Maxen told me about this new development earlier today, but I’ve had time to think of more questions. There’s so much to consider if we are going to have a long-distance relationship. As much as I hate the idea, I haven’t been able to develop a better plan. Every way I’ve looked at it, one of us is making a sacrifice that would cost us dearly.
“I’ve been seriously working on getting their business for about five years now. Before that, I was too small a fish in a big pond. But after becoming the general contractor for a luxury development that eventually won awards, they started to pay attention.”
“What kind of numbers are we talking about? I mean, I don’t know the building business, but is this something that you might be working on for years?”
I hold my breath for the answer. But before I hear it, Maxen’s face says it all. He looks at me, and his eyebrows knit together.
“Yes. It could go on for decades. They have been in business in California since the nineties. The men and women who work for them have job security. That’s hard to find in this business. The company is solvent and steady. They’ve survived recessions and all the economic downturns that have happened.”
I just sit still for a few beats.
“Well, that’s great,” I say without meaning a word of it.
We pull up to the valet, and he opens my door. Stepping out, I straighten my skirt and take Maxen’s hand as he comes around the car.
“I can smell the steaks cooking,” he says, letting me enter the restaurant first.
It’s obvious both of us are somewhere else in our minds. I can’t get away from the thought we are going to be living apart. It hurts.
We walk to the podium, and Maxen speaks to the hostess. “Ripley. Reservations for eight.”
“Your party is already at the table. Follow me, please.”
We snake through the tables of diners, enjoying their evenings. Low light casts a pinkish glow over the room. It makes everyone look like they’re behind a filter.
“Evening, you two,” I say, approaching July and Wes.
She and I exchange cheek kisses, even though we just left each other three hours ago.
“We started without you,” Wes says, holding up his whiskey.
Maxen holds out my chair, and I slide in. He sits beside me.
“I need a drink,” I say, half laughing.
Maxen looks at me and nods.
“Me too,” he says.
Their faces reflect our moods—no need to explain. July knows because I told her at work today. I’m sure she told Wes if Maxen hadn’t already. The server comes to the table.
“Can I offer you a cocktail?” she says to me first.
“I’ll have a Grey Goose Martini, two olives, please.”
She turns to Maxen.
“Tequila. Do you have El Tesoro?”
“Yes, sir.”
