Max pointed. “There’s a folder called dogs somewhere. My oldest niece made it. There’re more pictures than you could ever want to see in it. My nieces make me text them photos. I made the mistake of deleting them once, and the little one cried. Now I keep them all.”
I leaned over Maggie’s shoulder as she opened the folder and started to swipe through. Most of the photos were just the dogs, but Max was in a few, too. I noticed her swipe lingered when we came to one of a shirtless Max wearing a backwards baseball hat. The man had an eight-pack carved into golden skin. She caught my eye and smirked.
“Do you have Georgia’s number in here?” Maggie asked.
“I do.”
She hit a few buttons, and my phone vibrated inside my purse. She winked. “I thought you might like to use that one for his contact photo. Just in case you forget what he looks like.”
When we were done looking through pictures of the dogs, Maggie slid the phone to the other side of the table. “Back to my questions. I think you were trying to distract me by showing those adorable photos.”
“You’re the one who brought up dogs,” Max said.
“Still.” Maggie shrugged. “Okay, next question. What’s the longest you’ve ever let food sit on the floor before you picked it up and ate it?”
Max raised a brow. “Are we talking sober or drunk?”
“Either.”
He hung his head. “I ate an Oreo that was on the floor for about five minutes. Actually, I wound up eating it out of the sink. It was the last one, and my brother and I were fighting over it. I’d scooped it off the floor and almost had it to my mouth when he knocked it from my hand and sent it flying across the room. It landed in a pot full of greasy water my mother had been soaking from dinner. It was probably floating in there for thirty seconds or so while we wrestled over who could get to it first.”
Maggie wrinkled her nose. “That’s kinda gross. But I won’t hold it against you since you were a kid.”
Max grinned. “It was six months ago. We were at my brother’s for dinner.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re lucky you got extra points for taking in your nieces’ Pomeranian and adopting from the pound,” Maggie said. “Because that just lost you one. Gross.”
Max waved her on. “Hit me with another one. I can win this. I know I can.”
“Alright.” Maggie stared off for a few seconds while drumming her fingers against the table. She then raised her pointer in the air, and I all but pictured a giant light bulb in a cartoon bubble above her head. “I got one. Food you eat frequently.”
“Easy. Cheerios.”
“Really? That’s weird. Not bread, or chicken, or even pasta or rice. Cheerios?”
“Yep. I freaking love ’em.”
Maggie shrugged. “If you say so. What about your favorite book?”
“Probably The Boys of Winter.”
“I don’t know it.”
“It’s about the nineteen-eighty Olympic hockey team.”
Maggie’s nose wrinkled, and she pointed to me. “Sounds as boring as the crap she reads. A few years ago I caught her re-reading The Great Gatsby. Who reads F. Scott Fitzgerald unless it’s assigned to you in high school? And even then, you skim and read the CliffsNotes version.” She shook her head. “Okay, next question. This one’s double or nothing, so you better answer it right. Do you or do you not have any plans to live in London anytime soon?”
Max flashed a dimple and looked at me. “Definitely not. I’m no dumbass.”
“Good answer.” Maggie grinned. “What’s something you like but are embarrassed to admit?”
Max hung his head again. “I sometimes watch Jersey Shore reruns.”
“Interesting. Would you rather hang out with Snooki or JWoww?”
“Snooki. No contest.”
Maggie took a deep breath and shook her head. “I was afraid of this.”
“What? Was JWoww the right answer?”
“No…not at all. You’re perfect for her. That’s why she won’t go out with you.”
“What do I need to do? Forget to hold the door and check out other women while she’s talking?”
“I’m not sure that will do it.”
“Umm…” I looked back and forth between Max and Maggie and pointed to myself. “You know I’m sitting right here, right?”
Maggie winked at me. She then proceeded to pick up her wine and chug the entire thing in one impressive gulp. She slapped the empty glass down on the table with a large aahh before abruptly standing.