Chapter 5: Unexpected Visitors

Elena texted me on Monday morning, saying, "Trivia night is still going on. 7 p.m. Excuses are not accepted.

Debating how to react, Grace gazed at her phone. For months, she had managed to stay away from Elena's trivia nights by making up work deadlines that weren't really made up. But now that Max was probably going to be there, her justifications seemed weaker.

She tried to seem casual as she asked Max over breakfast, "Are you going to trivia tonight?"

Looking up from his coffee, he looked. “I was invited by Elena.” said that because I "know useless things about food," I could join her team. He smiled. "Are you coming?"

"I haven't decided."

“You ought to.” I've heard that you're invincible when it comes to literary questions.

The compliment made Grace's heart skip a beat. "Elena has a big mouth."

Max added, "She cares about you," as he got up to wash his cup. "Talk about you like a sister."

The analogy wasn't too far off. Since they had first met in college, Elena had been Grace's closest relative in the city; she had pushed her limits, annoyed her, and always been there for her when she needed her.

"I'll think about it," Grace finally said.

Max picked up his keys and nodded. “Don't put any strain on yourself.” If you choose to go, I'll be back by six o'clock, but I'm working lunch service.

Grace tried to concentrate on her job after he departed, but she kept becoming distracted.

When did Max's absence make her apartment feel empty? When had she stopped tolerating his presence and started to look forward to it?

Grace surprised herself by changing into a blue dress she hardly ever wore at five thirty. It was fancier than her typical work clothes but still casual enough for a bar. She heard the flat door open while she was putting on a little mascara.

"Max?" she called as she came out of the restroom.

Max wasn't the one.

A tall widowed woman with blonde hair and cheekbones strong enough to break a glass table in her living room. She had a huge bag slung over one of her shoulders and was dressed simply in a wine dress with a leather jacket.

"Oh," the woman said, evidently just as surprised as Grace. "I apologize. I had the thought….."

"Who are you?" Grace insisted. "And how did you get in?"

A key was held up by the woman. “I got this from Max.” My name is Emma. His spouse.

Grace's thoughts quickly corrected, "ex-wife," but she was too astonished to say anything.

"Former wife," Emma clarified after observing Grace's face. "Is he here?"

"No," Grace said. "He's at work."

With undisguised curiosity, Emma looked around the apartment and nodded. Her eyes lingered on the ceramic birds, on the magnetic knife strip that now contained Max's treasured collection, on the tidy row of books stacked by color on the shelves.

She turned back to face Grace and remarked, "So you're the roommate," "He mentioned you when I called last week."

He hadn't told Grace about the call.

Stiffly, "I'm Grace," she said. "And I wasn't expecting visitors."

"Neither was Max, I imagine." Emma had a disarming smile. "I was in the area for a pop-up supper event, but I should have contacted first. I hoped to surprise him.

Grace couldn't tell if the woman was genuinely unaware or intentionally provocative. "He should be home around six."

“Excellent.” Do you mind if I wait?

The apartment door opened again, and Max came in before Grace could respond. His entire attention was fixed on Emma as he stopped at the entrance.

His tone was very calm as he said, "What are you doing here?"

With simple familiarity, Emma placed her suitcase on the couch and stepped forward. 

“That Michelin event is why I'm in town.” The one at Ardent? I wanted to check up to see how you were faring.

Max's mouth squeezed. "You could have called."

"Would you have answered?"

You could feel the tension between them. In her own apartment, Grace felt like an intruder.

She said, "I must go," and took her purse. "Let me give you two some privacy."

"No," Max replied rapidly. "You're not required to go. Emma won't be around for long.

Emma's brows went up a little. "To be honest, I wanted to speak with you. Regarding the offer from Montrose.

Max's expression flickered with something like surprise, then caution. "You heard about that?"

"The world of chefs is small. Word gets around. Grace became immediately aware of her own stiff stance as Emma, in an unintentional gesture of elegance, tucked her hair behind one ear. "Is it possible for us to speak? In private?"

Max paused and looked at Grace. "Twenty minutes," was his final response. "We can get coffee downstairs."

Grace sat glumly on the couch after they went, forgetting her intentions for trivia night. She made an effort to avoid speculating on what "the Montrose offer" might be or why Emma had made the trip across town to speak with Emma about it when a phone call would have been more appropriate.

She has nothing to do with it. Like his personal life, Max's work life was his own.

Forty minutes later, Max came back by himself, his face unreadable.

He said, "I'm really sorry about what happened," and clicked the door shut gently. "I didn't know she was coming."

"It's fine," Grace said, speaking too hastily. "Did you sort out whatever you needed to discuss?"

Max's chuckle was not amusing. "Emma doesn't sort out' problems. She makes them more difficult. He combed his hair, a motion Grace now understood to be an indication of tension. “She learned that I had been offered a job.” Montrose's executive chef post.

"That sounds impressive."

"It would be. if I desired it. He sat down right next to her on the couch. "It's in Chicago."

"Oh." It was a smaller term than Grace had meant.

"Yes. "Oh." Max put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. Emma believes that I ought to accept it. claims that this type of chance doesn't come around too often.

"Is she... right?"

"Probably." His eyes were worried as he turned to face her. However, I am not certain if I want to leave New York. Not at this time.

There was something between them that they didn't say. Grace felt her heart pound against her ribs like a fast tattoo.

"You shouldn't make career decisions based on... temporary living situations," she said with care.

"Is that what this is?" Max said in a quiet voice. "Temporary?"

A persistent buzzing sound came from Grace's phone before she could respond. Elena.

"Where are the two of you? In ten minutes, trivia will begin! 😡"

"Elena," Grace clarified, displaying the note to Max. "Trivia night."

"Right." The moment was broken when he straightened. "We should probably go before she sends a search party."

"We don't have to……."

Max added, "I could use a drink after that conversation with Emma," as he stood up. "And I bet you could too."

He was not mistaken.

When they arrived, Firefly was crowded, with teams clustered around tables, discussing answers in low tones. Already packed with friends, Elena waved from a booth in the corner.

"You're late," she reprimanded, moving aside to give space. "And, Grace, you appear to have seen a ghost. What took place?

Grace and Max both said, "Nothing," at the same time.

Elena squinted her eyes. “All right.” We are now in the second round. Get caught up.

Despite the strain from Emma's visit, Grace found herself unwinding as the evening wore on. Max entered the competition with surprising vigor, as if he was determined to get past it as well.

His understanding of food history proved important, while Grace's literary acumen gained their team crucial points in the classics category.

During a pause between rounds, Max said, "We make a good team," his shoulder warm against hers in the packed booth.

"Apparently," Grace concurred, keenly conscious of all their interactions.

Their squad was tied for first place by the end of the round. "Name the Shakespeare play in which a character famously exits, pursued by a bear." was the decisive question.

Mac looked hopefully at Grace.

She said, "The Winter's Tale," without hesitation.

She said, "The Winter's Tale," without hesitation.

When they emerged as the winners, their team celebrated. Amidst the joyous commotion, Max's arm was wrapped around Grace's waist and drew her close to him. For a little while, she allowed herself to lean into him.

Elena said, "To the literary genius," as she raised her glass. "And her chef in shining armor."

Max appeared preoccupied as he made his way home across streets that were still wet after an evening shower.

"Everything okay?" Grace took a chance.

"Just thinking about what Emma said." He slowed. "About opportunities that don't come twice."

Grace felt a knot in her stomach. "Are you considering the Chicago offer?"

"I'd be an idiot not to." He completely stopped moving and turned to look at her. However, I recently came to a realization. Opportunities for a career may not present themselves every day, but so do other things.

"What other things?" Though she assumed she knew, Grace inquired.

Max did not respond; instead, he reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, a move that Emma had made previously but that had a completely different effect. He kept his fingertips on her cheek.

His words were quiet. "Things I'm not ready to walk away from," he added. "Things that matter more than another line on my resume."

Grace gasped in surprise. "Max….."

"You don't have to say anything," he said gently while interrupting. "I am aware of how difficult this is. I share a room with you.

I just got divorced. An unexpected visit from my ex-wife. I'm a complete wreck.

"We're all messes," Grace said, a statement that surprised her. "Some of us just hide it better than others."

His expression changed as he slowly smiled. It's true. However, certain messes are worth getting involved with. Between them, he gestured. "This could be one of them."

Standing under a streetlight with the city bustling all around them, Grace was at a crossroads she hadn't expected when she had decided to live with someone. The safe route, upholding her boundaries and safeguarding her well planned existence, extended in a single direction. The alternative route, unsure but all of a sudden alluring, led to Max.

Forewarning, "I don't mix well with complications,"

He said, "I've noticed," his smile growing. "But maybe that's exactly what you need."