Page 61 of WASP

At first, she thought it was simply her desire to impress, but it hadn’t faded. And that was new to her.

They crossed the threshold into the kitchen. White cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and spotless counters made the space feel expansive.

“I finished the audit work,” Annie said. “Figured it would be easier to go through it with you in person.” She gestured to the kitchen counter where neat stacks of paper were piled with coordinating sticky notes.

“Like you needed an excuse to see me,” Max retorted playfully, sliding onto the barstool Annie pulled out for her. Annie shot a playful glare over her shoulder as she grabbed two glasses from the cabinet next to the fridge, reaching for a pitcher of a light amber-colored liquid.

“I made some peach green iced tea for us,” she stated, carefully pouring the liquid into the glasses in front of her, garnishing them with fresh mint leaves, handing one to her. Max took the glass, taking a sip, touched by the thoughtfulness because of course Annie made them iced tea from scratch. That was such an Annie thing to do.

Max had seen her be thoughtful so many times by this point. It was in the way she was always bringing Max little surprises, like a tea she thought she would enjoy, or the way Annie had instantly seemed to memorize her preferences for nearly everything. She was constantly paying attention to the details.

Max took a long sip from the glass, the liquid fresh and cool against her tongue. “Okay, didn’t realize you were such a Martha Stewart in the making,” she teased.

Annie nudged her playfully, taking the stool next to her. “Count yourself lucky that you get to benefit from the spoils of my labor. I steeped that tea fresh this morning.”

Max took another refreshing sip, looking around at the papers surrounding them. “So on a scale of one to fucked, where am I?”

Annie giggled. “Well, I think that entirely depends on the context.” She placed a hand on Max’s bare thigh, the touch radiating heat through her, blushing as she understood the double entendre of Annie’s words. “And you know how important context is,” Annie added, her voice a low tease as she leaned over, brushing her lips against Max’s cheek, leaving fire in their wake.

“What am I going to do with you?” She groaned as Annie’s hand inched up her thigh, teasing the edge of her denim shorts. Max considered herself a flirty and tactile person, but it was nothing compared to how Annie was, and she absolutely adored it.

“We could go upstairs and find out?” A hint of suggestion slipped into Annie’s tone as Max glanced around the empty kitchen, remembering that they were in fact in Annie’s parents’ house.

“Tempting, but rain check until Wednesday night? I’m slammed the next two days with that big event I’m working at Norwich, and I think we should go through this stuff.” Max gestured to the paperwork in front of them, an uneasy feeling filling her as she shifted her mindset from pleasure to business.

Annie, however, only beamed brighter. “Great, works for me,” she said cheerfully, opening up her calendar on her laptop, adding a time block titled HOT DATE w/ M.

Max grinned. Where she considered herself an organized person, Annie, she had realized, was on a different level entirely.

“Okay, let’s dive in.” Annie clicked open a document and began walking Max through the steps of the audit and her findings.

Max got lost several times as she tried to digest the stats and numbers and legalese Annie was saying to her. She tried to ask questions, but where was she even supposed to start when all of this was so foreign to her? Overwhelm crept in, joined by the sensation of wanting to tuck this problem away to think about later, but she had already been doing that for years and was now, unfortunately, running out of time.

“Max.” Annie’s voice was gentle, retrieving her from her thoughts, their eyes meeting.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I was asking if what I said made sense…” Annie’s voice trailed off as her gaze raked over her, reacting no doubt to the panic Max was sure was written all over her face. Hiding her feelings had always been challenging for her.

“Oh, um, kind of?” She cringed at the questioning sound in her sentence that should have been a confident statement.

“It’s okay if you don’t. I’m the financial expert here. I don’t mind breaking things down.”

Max’s heart hammered in her chest. She was torn between asking Annie for more clarity and wanting to give up.

She groaned, running her hands over her face, peeking at Annie from between her fingers. “I’m sorry.” Her heart rate kept increasing the more she thought about trying to understand what all of this meant. “This isn’t—it’s not my thing. Like, I hear all the words you’re saying and the numbers you’re telling me, and individually I know what they are, but when I try to think of them all together I get really overwhelmed and feel like I want to vomit. And it’s not just with this.” She picked up the papers in front of her, shaking them in her hands. “It’s been my entire life with math and numbers and reading. I feel like I’m so dumb—and I know I’m not dumb. I’m more of a learn-by-doing, pick-it-up-along-the-way, context-clues kind of person…you know?” Her gaze met Annie’s as she waited nervously for a response to something she had never shared with anyone before.

But this was Annie—Annie who had done nothing but show her she was a safe place to rest her fears, Annie who had a knack for seeing right through the defense mechanisms she used to keep most people at an arm’s length.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Max said softly, trying to pivot the conversation, but Annie’s hand slipped into hers, pulling them into her lap as she squeezed.

“We all have the things we’re good and not so good at. I don’t expect you to be amazing at everything you ever do or try in the same way I’d hate if you expected that of me. And, while all this”—Annie tilted her head to the paperwork—“might not be your thing, it is mine. And I’m more than happy to help you understand.”

Max nodded, dark hair shifting with the movement. “Sorry, sometimes I get overwhelmed and then my default is to ignore it and pretend like it doesn’t exist and, well, I don’t really have the luxury of time⁠—”

A clattering from the room off the kitchen drew their attention as Colleen and Senior pushed their way through the door connecting the house to the garage.

“Shit, they weren’t supposed to be home for another hour,” Annie mumbled, dropping Max’s hand, shifting around the stack of papers on the counter to conceal their contents.