“OK,” Max said, glancing at her to make sure she was still following him, “we can do this. Tell me about your grandmother.”
“Don’t you have to do any shopping?” Josie was aware that there was a faint whine in her voice, but she couldn’t quite stop it. He’d come out all guns blazing, lighter today than the last two days, like he had decided from the get-go to be his most charming self for whatever reason. As such, he had powered her through the day so that she was nearly done with the shopping. She’d gotten her grandad some nice gardening gloves and a sign saying “My Garden, My Rules” and she’d settled on a Space NK voucher for Helen, figuring she was bound to get it wrong if she tried to buy her aunt something specific. So that left only Memo to go, which was always the most difficult present even though she knew her so well.
“Nope,” Max said easily, stopping to look at the scarves and giving Josie a questioning look. She shook her head. She’d gotten a scarf for her two years ago. “I did all mine ages ago.”
Josie huffed, feeling like he was taunting her. “Well, aren’t you organized?”
He grinned at her, seeming to find her annoyance incredibly amusing—indeed, the more reluctant she’d been throughout the day, the more fun he’d seemed to be having, like he was determined not to let her mood affect him. Or maybe, because she wasn’t being forcibly cheery like the last two times she’d met him, he’d decided that role needed to be taken up by him. “Not usually,” he admitted. “I just knew what I wanted to get everyone this year.”
Josie sidestepped a woman with a buggy, who’d stopped to pick up something her toddler had thrown onto the floor. The Christmas music got louder as they neared the other side of the shop—they must be near a speaker. “This year? What’s so special about this year?”
“Huh?” He frowned over her shoulder, clearly distracted by something, but when she turned to look she couldn’t figure out what it was. “Oh, no, nothing special,” he said breezily. “I had specific ideas, that’s all.”
“Are all your family in New York this year?” Josie put the bags containing her other presents down and brushed a hand through her hair. She was too hot, but couldn’t seem to motivate herself to take her coat off, knowing she’d only have to put it back on as soon as they stepped back outside.
Max picked up the nearest photo frame, examined it, then put it back down again. She wondered if he genuinely enjoyed the shopping or if it was all put on, like her enthusiasm for Winter Wonderland yesterday. If it was faked, she thought he was better at hiding it than she’d been. “My parents and my sister, yeah.”
“Sister?”
He looked at her, smiled, and his eyes crinkled in that way that made him seem warm. “Yep. My baby sister,” he said, chuckling a little. He noticed her slight smile as she tried to figure out the joke, and elaborated. “She hates being called the baby, which I suppose makes sense given she’s twenty-seven. She’s four years younger than me, but has forever been the one taking care of me.” His voice softened as he spoke of her, and his eyes turned a little sad. She cringed internally—no doubt she was only reminding him that he was stuck on this side of the Atlantic, away from his family. “And you,” he said, his voice firmer now, “are clearly trying to distract us from the task at hand. Your grandmother. Go.”
“I don’t know,” she complained. “She’s…” Josie waved a hand in the air. “Classy, I guess. Likes to bake, though she’s actually terrible at it—she never manages to follow the recipe right, but she doesn’t give up.” Josie smiled at the teenage memories of coming home after school to be greeted with overly chewy biscuits, or cake that tasted just a bit too strongly of egg.
Max frowned for a minute, then headed off with a new determination, so that Josie had to grab her bags in a fluster, and really did knock off the nearest photo frame this time, muttering an apology even though there was no shop assistant in sight. She caught up with Max next to the homeware section, and scowled at him for the unnecessary sprint—wasn’t shopping supposed to be relaxing? Though maybe not, considering the frantic way everyone else was sorting through the shelves. This was precisely why she usually did hers online, in plenty of time to return things if they weren’t right.
Her phone beeped from somewhere in the depths of her handbag, and she fished it out, expecting to see a message from Bia, who still hadn’t told her she was there safe, despite having landed several hours ago. Her heart gave an extra-large thump when she saw Oliver’s name pop up instead.