Only Yours (Fool's Gold #5)(66)

“Enjoying your lunch?” Mayor Marsha asked as she walked up to their table.

“Yes,” Montana said. “How are you?”

“Very well.” The mayor turned to Simon. “I see you’re enjoying yourself in our lovely town.”

“Yes, I am.”

Marsha laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to start on all the reasons why you should stay. But I was pleased to hear you’re coming to the hospital fundraiser.” She glanced back at Montana. “I can’t wait to see what you’ll be wearing, my dear. Remember, it’s cocktail-dressy, rather than formal.” She smiled at them both. “You’ll be a very handsome couple. Have a nice lunch.”

“Thank you,” Montana murmured, staring intently at her plate.

Fundraiser? Now that she thought about it, she remembered seeing posters about it around town. It was to raise money to support the work Simon was doing. Obviously it was something Simon had to attend—he would probably be the guest of honor. Usually people brought a date to an event like that. The mayor had assumed Simon’s date would be Montana.

But he hadn’t asked her.

Simon wasn’t the kind of man who forgot things. Even when he was busy, he knew exactly what was going on around him. Which meant he hadn’t planned on asking her.

She wasn’t sure why. Whether it was the public nature of the evening, or him not wanting to lead her on about their relationship. All of which was logical. She supposed she should be able to understand and accept.

But the truth was a voice was screaming in her head. A voice that demanded he explain how she could be good enough to sleep with, but not good enough to take to a stupid fundraiser.

“I didn’t ask you because…” His voice trailed off.

She raised her head and looked at him. He seemed more uncomfortable than embarrassed. And then she got it.

For all her claims that she knew he was leaving, that all this was temporary, she’d assumed what they had together was still some kind of relationship. That they were together. A couple.

That wasn’t the way it was for Simon. She was a convenience, someone he wanted and maybe liked a little, but no one significant. She’d been worried about whether or not he would miss her when he left. That was the least of it. What she should be more worried about was whether or not he gave a damn about being with her while he was here.

Her chest tightened and her throat began to close. She recognized the symptoms and knew she didn’t have much time.

She looked up and gave him what she hoped was a startled expression. “Oh, no. I just realized I’m supposed to be meeting Max. I can’t believe it. I need to hurry or I’ll be late.”

She fumbled in her purse and threw a twenty on the table. “Sorry.”

“Montana.” He rose when she did.

She waved him back in place. “No. Please. Eat your lunch. This is my fault. I’m so scattered.”

She offered a frantic little wave, then dashed out of the restaurant.

Terrified he would follow her and demand to talk, she ducked into the closest store, then out the back, so she was standing alone in the alley. It was only then that she allowed herself to begin to cry.

“I KNOW IT’S NOT MUCH,” Nevada was saying as she paced back and forth in Montana’s living room, a puppy in each arm, dodging the other two as she walked. “But I swear it was a moment.”

Montana was still dealing with her luncheon revelation, so she was having a little trouble following Nevada’s story.

“You saw Mom at the tasting room place outside of town, and she ran off when she saw Max? Are you sure those two events are linked? Maybe she was late for something or the date had been really bad.”

“I thought of that.” Nevada sank into the chair opposite the sofa. “But there was that second when they saw each other. Mom went completely white. I was afraid she would pass out or something. And Max froze. I’m telling you, he’s the Max. Your Max is her Max.”

Her mother and Max Thurman? “No. I can’t believe that. I’ve worked for Max for a year and she’s never said a word about him. It’s not like I don’t talk about my job or my boss.”

“Hasn’t Max lived here before?”

“Sure, but not for years. He left before we were born.”

Nevada gave her a “See!” look.

“You’re inventing drama where it doesn’t exist,” Montana told her.

“I don’t think so. Look at the facts. Mom has the name Max tattooed on her hip. We don’t know much about him, except he used to live in the area, but not in town. He left before Mom and Dad got married. Max Thurman moves back to Fool’s Gold after being gone over thirty years. He’s mysterious.”

“He’s not mysterious,” Montana said, interrupting. “He’s a nice guy.”

“Where does he get his money? Doesn’t he finance all the work the therapy dogs do?”

“We get some donations, but yes, Max pays for most of it. So, he’s rich.”

“From what? Did he inherit? Rob a bank? Make great investments?”

“We don’t talk about that.”

“But he did live here before. Seriously, Montana, how many guys around Mom’s age who once lived in town are named Max? I’m telling you, he’s the one.”