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?