He wondered what Wes would say about Olivia. Probably make fun of him for sending her the cake, but it had worked, hadn’t it? As had the flowers—she’d texted him just after he landed in DC the day before. He’d been so relieved she didn’t hold it against him that he’d had to rush away at the end of their date because of breaking news. Times like that he definitely wasn’t as big a fan of his job.

Speaking of Olivia, he should text her. He scrolled back through their texts from the past few days.

Thank you for the flowers! Sorry I missed you—was out scouting for a good bakery in my neighborhood, and I think I found one. Haven’t tried their cake or pie yet, but the pastries were delicious. A rain check sounds good—next weekend works for me.

You’re very welcome, and I’m sorry again I had to run off. I had to just guess on your favorite flowers, I hope there were some you liked in there. I want details about this bakery—maybe you can tell me on Friday night?

Let me check my work schedule, but Friday night should be fine—excited to see what your “normal person” disguise is this time. Different glasses? Different hat? A wig???

He laughed out loud again at the thought of himself in a wig.

I wouldn’t know the first thing about where to find a wig, but then I do live in LA, don’t I? There must be realistic wigs everywhere. So far I’ve just relied on glasses/hat/no gel in my hair, but maybe I’ll do something wild next time. Stay tuned!

He turned on the TV as he waited for her to text back, and was flipping channels when he heard a key in the door.

“Hi, honey, I’m home!” Max shouted as the door opened. Wes walked in, suit and tie on, natty briefcase over his shoulder, and—bless him—a pizza box in his hand.

“Oh, thank God, I was starving,” Max said.

Wes dropped the box on the coffee table and disappeared into his bedroom to change.

“Didn’t occur to you to pick up dinner on the way home, did it?” Wes shouted through the crack in his bedroom door.

“I was going to order something!” Max shouted back. Okay, at least he’d been thinking about it.

Max stood up and got plates and napkins (Wes always insisted on this) and brought them to the coffee table. They had a kitchen table, too, but they almost never ate at it.

“Sure you were,” Wes said. He came out of his bedroom in sweats and a T-shirt and grabbed two beers out of their fridge.

Wes sat down on the couch and picked up the remote control.