They walked through the first level, up the stairs, and to the box seats, where Max waved her in front of him into their seats. As soon as she sat down, she let herself relax. No one would probably take a picture of them up there, right?

“So is this what it’s going to be like, then, going out in public with you?” Max asked under his breath. “Complete silence except for periodic sighs of relief?”

She realized she hadn’t said a word to him since they got out of the car, which was at least ten minutes ago.

“Give it some time, okay? I’m just trying to figure out how to do this.”

He touched her elbow with his.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I was just teasing you.” He stood up. “I think we both need a drink. Wine?”

She looked around for the first time—really looked, instead of surveying the crowd.

“Oh wow, we’re in the fancy seats, aren’t we?” She let herself grin. She found it sort of hilarious that her first time at the Hollywood Bowl was with a damn millionaire senator. “God yes, a glass of wine is exactly what I need. Rosé if they have it, whatever white they have if not. Normally I’d be a lot more picky than that, but tonight isn’t a night to be picky about the wine selection.”

While Max was gone, Olivia forced herself to relax. She just had to pretend that this was simply a fun outdoor concert on a beautiful night with her boyfriend, which, technically, it was. None of the rest of that stuff mattered.

“Glass of rosé for the lady, beer for me, and I couldn’t resist a cone of french fries. One for each of us.”

See, this is why she’d fallen in love with him. He not only got her french fries without her asking for them but had gotten one for each of them.

Damn it. Even french fries made her all gooey.

She took the fries in one hand and the rosé in the other as he sat down.

“Thanks. I needed this.” She smelled the hot, salty, greasy goodness of the fries and smiled.

He sat down next to her and took a sip of his beer. She took a sip of her wine. They each slowly ate their fries. She looked around the amphitheater, careful not to look right at Max.

He leaned in close to her.

“I’m so happy to be here with you right now, I hope you know that.” He looked straight at her. “I really hope you know that.”

Warmth spread through her body. She couldn’t quite trust herself to talk, so she just nodded.

“Good,” he said.

The lights onstage went up, and it seemed like every single one of the thousands of people there cheered wildly. Including both her and Max. And thank God for that—she was delighted Max was the kind of guy who would yell at a Dolly Parton concert before Dolly even came out onstage.

As soon as the opening act started, Olivia felt her whole body relax. She didn’t know if it was the music itself, or the way the whole crowd swayed back and forth as they listened, or the energy in the crowd, or Max’s hand in hers, but she felt calm and happy, and like she could—and would—conquer the world. And when Dolly finally came out onstage, there was an explosion of noise like Olivia wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced. Pure, loud, joyful screams and yells and cheers rang out and kept on ringing until Dolly started singing, and then they all shut up so they could hear her.

In the middle of “9 to 5,” Max took her hand. She turned to him and smiled so hard her face hurt.

“I love you,” he said in a low voice, but she could hear him as clear as if he’d shouted it from the stage.

“I love you, too,” she said.

Max was relieved as they walked back to the car. Olivia walked with the bounce back in her step, and didn’t seem as skittish or closed off as she had on their way in. Maybe they’d be able to have fun like this all summer—especially in August when Congress was in recess and he’d be back in California for five fantastic weeks.

“Olivia! Hey, Olivia!”

Max shook himself out of his daydreams when Olivia stopped. They both turned toward the direction of the shouts.

“Jamila! Hi!” Olivia greeted the woman walking toward them, but her whole body was tense again.

“Hey, I thought that was you!” the other woman said. “You look great, I love this dress.”

“Were you just at the concert?” Olivia asked. She shook her head in answer to her own question. “Of course you were just at the concert—did you have fun? Wasn’t it great?”

He’d never seen Olivia babble like this before. Was this how she got when she was nervous? She’d said she was fine, but he knew she wasn’t—at first she’d been stiff and silent, and now she couldn’t stop talking.

“Yeah, it was so fun, right? We got tickets last minute, otherwise I would have texted you to see if you wanted to come with us.” Jamila looked back and forth from Olivia to him and back again, and smirked slightly at Olivia. “Glad you made it anyway.”

Olivia glanced at him, and he could tell she was gearing herself up to introduce him. After a few too many seconds of silence, she turned back to Jamila.

“Oh, I’m sorry—Jamila, this is Max, Max, Jamila.”

First names only; that was a nice compromise.

He reached out to shake Jamila’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jamila,” he said.

She shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, too . . .” She looked up at him, and recognition dawned over her face. He winked at her as her mouth gaped open.

“Um. Max. Nice to meet you, Max,” she said.

Jamila turned back to Olivia, her eyes still wide. He couldn’t see the look on Olivia’s face, but after a few seconds, Jamila smiled at her.

“We should probably get out of here; it’ll take forever to get home,” Jamila said. “And I have to find my friend, she was supposed to meet me out here, but . . .” She looked down at the phone gripped in her hand. “Oh, she says she’s already at the car, what the hell? Okay, I should run. See you on Wednesday, Olivia?”

Olivia nodded.

“I’ll be there,” Olivia said. “Maybe we can get dinner after?”

Jamila glanced back and forth from her to Max. Max tried to pretend he didn’t know exactly what was going on.

“Mmmm, definitely,” Jamila said.

Jamila dashed off into the crowd, and Olivia and Max walked off toward the car.

They didn’t say anything to each other until they were in the car and a block away from the stadium.

“So,” Max started.

Olivia burst out laughing, and then he did, and they laughed so hard he almost pulled over.

“No offense,” she said through gasps, “but that was one of the weirdest dates I’ve ever been on. The middle part was good, the part with Dolly Parton and holding hands and all of that. But the beginning and the end were very stressful! I thought dating a famous person was supposed to be glamorous!”

He poked her in the arm.

“Oh, you think you were stressed? You didn’t have to stand there and take it while your friend Jamila looked me over like I was a piece of meat and she was measuring me up to see if I was good enough for you. Or try not to react when she was looking straight at me and made that face when she suddenly realized who I was!”