“Of course there are. I’ve been so laser focused on my bill that I haven’t considered anything else.” He took off his hat so he could see her better. “My staff has tried to get me to concentrate more on some of the other things I can do—education, job-training programs, housing—and I support all of that, but I threw my whole everything behind this bill. I guess . . . I don’t want to think this way, but putting my energy elsewhere seems like admitting defeat.” He sighed. “And I guess my politician ego couldn’t let go of what a major victory this would be. I told myself it would be a victory for the people, and it would. But it would be a big one for me, too.”

Olivia nodded.

“I completely understand that. But what if you frame it as throwing energy at additional options, but don’t give up on your bill yet? Keep fighting for your bill, but make this a new thing. Make this a new thing: about education, or health care, or housing, or some bullshit about ‘the American family’ or something. Talk to a bunch of teachers and parents and make sure you talk to the kids, too. Hell, go on a listening tour of town halls across California, focused on communities that don’t usually get heard, or youth, or whatever, to get ideas for how to help.”

He dropped his water bottle onto the blanket. Thank goodness he’d put the top on first.

“I love this idea! Town halls across California, in marginalized communities. It’s perfect. I’m going to text my chief of staff about this right now.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Olivia laughed.

“That poor woman, getting texts from you with random ideas on a Saturday.”

Max looked up from his phone and shrugged.

“Luckily she’s used to me by now. But also luckily, I don’t have any reception up here, so I can’t send it yet. Hold on: let me just note this down so I can send it later.”

He typed busily with his thumbs for a few minutes, then put his phone away.

“Sorry about that.” He touched her cheek, just for a second. “Thank you—for the idea, and for making me feel less discouraged about everything. And I’m sorry, we’ve been talking about me a lot, haven’t we? How are you? How is the firm going, still super busy?”

Olivia made herself smile big, like she always did when she got this question, and nodded.

“Oh yeah, really busy. I’m lucky I got away all afternoon today.” Suddenly, her lies felt like ashes on her tongue. She just couldn’t do it anymore. Not with Max. “No. Wait. I’m sorry, none of that is true. It’s not that busy at all, and I’m really worried about it.”

Max looked confused.

“Wait, what do you mean? I thought you’ve been wildly busy since you started?”

She shook her head.

“No,” she said again. “I know I told you that. I lied to you. I’m sorry. They say you’re supposed to fake it till you make it, and I’ve been faking it too much. We keep networking and reaching out to potential clients but we aren’t getting as much interest as I’d hoped. We have some clients, and we’ve done some pitches, but not enough, and I’m so stressed about it. I knew this would be hard, but I guess I didn’t realize how hard it would be on me.” She finally turned to look at him. “I didn’t mean to lie to you about this, but I’m just so anxious about it and scared that I made the biggest mistake of my life and that we’re not going to make this a success, and I’ll have to . . . anyway, I’m sorry.”

All her lies and anxieties came spilling out, until she forced herself to stop talking. What did Max think of her now?

She didn’t realize she cared so much about that—and about him—until this moment. In retrospect, she should have known when she agreed to go with him on a hike, of all things. And she really should have known when she went shopping for new athleisure for said hike—she, Olivia Monroe, who had said she’d never be one of those L.A. people who bought fancy yoga pants! She looked down at her brand-new $100 yoga pants and laughed at herself—these certainly did make her ass look great, at least.

How did Max manage to get her to spill her guts to him, just by sitting there next to her, with that open look on his face? He’d thought she was this successful lawyer; how would he feel now that he knew she wasn’t?

He nudged her.

“Hey,” he said softly. She turned to look at him. “It’s okay. I understand.”

The look in his eyes was so kind, it made her want to cry.

“You do?” she asked.

He nodded.

“I do. This all must be really hard on you.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She knew they shouldn’t be touching in public, but she was so grateful for his embrace that she ignored that.

“It is,” she said. “Especially since I know I’m good at this, I know Ellie is too, and I know we make a great team. And it was hard enough to get clients to have faith in me when I was in New York, and then I had the full backing of a big law firm.”

He patted her hair softly as he dropped his arm.

“Starting your own business is never easy, but I can only imagine how much harder it is when you’re a Black woman and have to deal with racism and sexism on top of everything else,” he said.

She took a long breath. What a relief for him to acknowledge that.

“I have full confidence in you that you’ll make it, by the way,” he said.

She squeezed his hand, then let go.

“Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.” She closed her eyes for a second, then looked back up at him. “Max, I have to know. You say you really like me, but is this the kind of thing you do a lot? Like, the cake, and all of that?”

He turned his whole body to face her, a very sweet smile on his face.

“No, I’ve never sent a cake before to try to get a woman to go out with me.”

That was a nice answer, but that wasn’t quite what she’d meant.

“Thank you for saying that, but I guess what I meant was . . .” Shit, how should she phrase this?

“If what you meant was, do I go around picking up women in bars on a regular basis, the answer is no,” he said. “And if what you meant was, do I go around going on dates with women and telling them I like them a lot, the answer is also no. I sent you that cake on an impulse, because you’d disappeared from my life after I saw you in that hotel bar, and when you reappeared, it felt like magic, and I refused to let you go again. And every moment I’ve been with you since then has told me that impulse was correct.”

“Oh,” she said. There he was again, making her feel wanted. More than anyone else ever had.

“I, um. I’m really glad you sent me that cake,” she said. “And I’m really glad to be here with you. I like you a lot, too.”

A wide, bright, joyful smile spread across Max’s face.

“You do?” he asked.

She’d tried so hard to fight it, but she couldn’t anymore.

“I do,” she said. Everything about Max was unexpected, and Olivia had never liked the unexpected. But somehow, she couldn’t get enough of Max.

He picked up the cheese and crackers and put them back into his backpack.

“Great. Then how about we go back to my house and take our clothes off?”