“Oh man, that sucks,” he said. “But the machinery of the United States Senate has beaten you down before, and I haven’t seen you like this since … What else is wrong?” His eyes widened and he held up a finger. “The girl! I haven’t seen you since last week—what happened with the girl?”

Max shrugged and looked away. Damn Wes for knowing him so well.

“I told her how I felt, and that—fuck you for making me do this, by the way—that we couldn’t have sex, which … well, never mind. Anyway, she seemed taken aback, and said she’d ‘think about it.’ But that was Friday night, and I haven’t heard from her since then. I think I lost my chance with her. I never should have listened to you.”

Wes dropped his head in his hands.

“I didn’t tell you to tell her that; good God, Powell! I thought you were a better politician than that.”

Yes, well, so had he.

“I didn’t make a plan! I just blurted it all out! This is why I have people write my speeches and talking points for anything important; I’ve always been bad at shit like this when I don’t prepare! Anyway, that’s what happened with the girl.”

Wes closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Okay, well, there’s nothing we can do about that now. That was Friday night—have you texted her since then?”

Thanks for the reminder.

“I texted her on Sunday from the plane, just saying to have a good week. She said, ‘Thanks, you, too!’ and that was it.”

Wes pushed the container of salad over to him.

“Please eat some of this and come to your senses. That was Sunday, today is Wednesday. What are you waiting for? We’re too old for those games about when you should text a woman and when you shouldn’t. You like this woman, that’s obvious—don’t whine about it to me. Text her!”

As much as Max hated to admit it, Wes was probably right. Well, not about the salad.

“I was trying to give her space!” he said. “But you might be right. Plus, she’ll definitely tell me to go away if she doesn’t want to hear from me; she’s that type.”

Wes grinned.

“I like her even more now.”

Max rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone.

How’s your week going? Any more thoughts on Saturday? Maybe we could tick off some more of the items on your to-do in LA list?

There. That was friendly and breezy but still interested. He hoped.

He pressed send, and immediately realized exactly why he hadn’t done this earlier. Because now, it was going to be even worse waiting for her to text back.

“Satisfied?” he said to Wes.

Wes dished out some of the salad into a bowl and took a very pointed bite.