Page 32 of Maxwell

“In my profession, you don’t really get to take the weekends off.”

The lie slid easily from his tongue, because how could he tell her he was checking for a phone call from a woman who would never call him? That he had given her the number to his personal phone—not the spare phone which he kept for women and acquaintances—the personal phone for close friends and family. A woman who had made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with him outside of teasing remarks and playful banter at work.

He tossed an apologetic smile Jenny’s way. “What were you saying now?”

The smile worked, and she started talking to him again, updating him on the difficulty she was having with leaving her daughter at daycare so that she could go to work now that she was a single mother.

Five minutes later, she drifted off toward a group of women, but Maxwell didn’t follow. He checked his phone again.

Nothing. His mother and one of his nieces had sent him Valentine’s Day messages, which he had already responded to. But there were no missed calls or voicemails from an unknown number.

He tucked away his phone and went in search of Jayson and found his friend near the food table with a plate in his hand, holding court with a group of women who were laughing at something he had said.

Jayson excused himself and approached Maxwell. “You okay, man? Before you say you’re fine, remember that I’ve known you since high school, and you can save the bullshit answer for somebody who doesn’t know you as well.”

Maxwell acknowledged the truth of his words with a faint smile and leaned against the wall. “I’m good, but I…” He didn’t know what to say, which was unusual. “I’m off tonight for some reason.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely off. You still have your jacket on, bro.”

Maxwell looked down at his leather jacket. He hadn’t paid attention to this detail, and he was a detail person. He was wearing the jacket as if he was passing through and had no desire to stay. He was physically at the party, but mentally elsewhere.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Jayson asked with genuine concern.

“Nah,” Maxwell said, brushing off his concern with the wave of his hand. “But whatever is wrong, it’s not the party. As usual, you’ve outdone yourself.”

Jayson grinned with pride. “I already know the problem isn’t my party. Can’t nobody throw a party like I do.”

Maxwell’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the screen.

Hey are you still at ur friend’s party? This is Jasmine.

He looked up at Jayson, excitement thrumming in his veins. “I need to go.”

“Go? Something wrong?”

“Nah, something’s right.”

A wide grin spread across Jayson’s face. “It’s a chick, ain’t it? Go on then, Casanova. That’s the only reason I’m allowing you to bail on my party. I want all the deets tomorrow.”

Maxwell was already moving through the crowded room, heading for the door with concentrated focus. The night air was cold and sharp, less cloying than the heat of the party. Standing a few feet away from the townhouse, he dialed the number. Jasmine answered on the second ring.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just that you said⁠—”

“You didn’t bother me.” He wanted to allay the uncertainty he heard in her voice. “Matter of fact, you caught me at a good time. I just left the party.”

“You left already? It’s kind of early. You must not have been having a good time.”

“Jayson always throws a good party, but I wasn’t in the right headspace tonight.”

“I understand. Well, since you’re not at the party⁠—”

“You want to get together and do something?”

“Oh. I... well, sure. I guess.”

“Where are you?”

“At home. I was going to go over to my parents’ house, but they went out for Valentine’s Day. They don’t usually celebrate, but Dad surprised Mom with tickets to a play and they’re going for drinks afterward. As for me, well... I need to get out of this apartment. It’s too quiet.”