Page 75 of The New Couple in 5B

Outside, an ambulance wails up the avenue, someone issues a shout, followed by the bleating of a car horn.

“What else?” I ask.

Amy’s words are knocking around my head. And he just looks wrecked. Getting fired is tough, but I can feel the heaviness, the darkness of his energy, that there’s something he wants to say.

“There was an assistant,” he says. “A couple of months ago, she claimed that I made unwelcome advances at a book party.”

I sit up in the chair, stare at him. He takes off his glasses and cleans them on his shirt, a thing he does when he’s embarrassed or buying time to think.

“No,” I say quickly. “You wouldn’t do that.”

Most men, yeah, okay. But Max is a gentleman, kind, chivalrous—a door opener, a coat holder. No. He’s not one of those handsy, oblivious men who thinks his needs and desires are the only thing to consider in a sexual encounter. He doesn’t use his power position to subtly seduce, to imply his favor might make a difference in a woman’s career.

He pushes out a laugh and runs a hand through his hair, puts his glasses back on.

“I don’t know,” he says, surprising me. “Iwasreally drunk that night. I thought she wasintome. She clearly wasn’t.”

He puts his coffee cup down next to the pizza box, looks up at the ceiling. “Anyway, she told some people about it. And it got back to my boss. There was a conversation with human resources.”

I’m not sure what to say.

“So that, combined with profits being down and—yeah. Here we are.”

I realize that I’m leaning toward him, my shoulders hiked with stress for him.

“There’s a stain on my reputation now,” he goes on. “I don’t think I’m going to get another job in publishing.”

“What can I do?” I ask.

He shakes his head, lifts a palm. “I talked to Olivia about it. She says to do nothing, learn what I can from the encounter. And check my instincts moving forward.”

Olivia. So they do talk independently of us. I feel a little rush of something unpleasant—that feeling you have when your friend is spending time with another friend. Jealousy? Possessiveness?

“When did you talk to Olivia?”

“I called her when this first went down, to ask her advice. And she’s been helping me, free of charge.”

I nod, not knowing what to say. I take a long swallow of my coffee. I’m glad she was there for him when he obviously didn’t want me to be.

He leans back on the sofa, looks off toward the window. Outside, the sky is going gray, threatening rain again.

“Rosie,” he says softly, still not looking at me. “Just work on your book, take care of your husband and live your life.”

There’s something so sad about it. When he turns to look at me, we lock eyes. “Be the excellent friend that you have been since the day I met you in the break room. That’s what you can do.”

I don’t want to tell him about Chad’s new role, my pregnancy. Ido, but I wouldn’t. No one struggling needs to hear how great everything is going for someone else. It will be a while before Chad can post about the series on social media, or it will be announced. Maybe Max will be on his feet again by the time I start to show.

“I can do that,” I say. “Of course. But are you okay? Liketrulyokay?”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Like—are you going to find me hanging from a ceiling fan?”

“Jesus, Max.” The image of Dana hits hard, and I dip my head into my palm as if I can block the vision that’s inside my head.

“Sorry,” he says, wincing. “Really. I’m sorry.”

I gaze at him through my fingers. “Max.”

“I’m okay,” he says, sitting up from his slouch. “I have savings, a couple of author friends who need a freelance editor. So I’m good for money. Maybe I’ll take this time to regroup, take a long, hard look at myself, you know? Make amends. Figure out the nextchapter.”