That felt like the biggest compliment he’d ever received.

“I like you so much,” he said. He didn’t mean to say it, it had just come out.

She turned to look at him, surprise and . . . was that pleasure on her face?

“Why, because I grudgingly admitted that nature can be okay sometimes?”

He laughed out loud as he dropped his backpack under the tree.

“That, and for other reasons, too.” He looked down. He really should tie his shoe. “You know. I don’t think I ever thanked you for last week. I needed a quiet night—and to be able to talk to someone—more than I realized.”

Olivia sat down, and he sat down next to her.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “I was glad I could help.” She smirked at him. “Though . . . you did say thank you, in your own way.”

He blushed. That move of his might have violated some part of his pledge to Wes, but he hadn’t been able to resist.

“I did, didn’t I?” he said.

She unscrewed her water bottle and took a sip.

“How was this week?” she asked. “I saw you on TV the other night talking criminal justice reform.” She grinned. “I should say, I saw you changing the subject to talk about it when you were actually on to talk about the scandal of the day.”

She’d watched him on TV? He smiled, then sighed.

“Thanks for watching. And yes, I’m good at turning the topic and making it look like it was the host’s idea—it’s one of my real strengths.” He took the cheese out of his backpack and handed it to her. “I’m going to fight for my bill no matter what, even if leadership wants me to shut up about it. I’m still so pissed that they aren’t moving it forward. Maybe if I keep bringing it up, reporters will ask my colleagues questions about it. Maybe that’s all I can hope for.”

He hadn’t realized how bitter he still was about this until he’d started talking.

Olivia shook her head.

“No, there must be something else you can do.” She held up a hand to stop him from interrupting her. “Not about the bill, you know more than I do on that. But there must be something else you can do to help the kids and their families. If the goal is to help them, I’m sure there are other ways to do that. What are they?”

He sat up straight. God, she was right. That was the question he needed to ask.

“Of course there are. I’ve been so laser focused on my bill that I haven’t considered anything else.” He took off his hat so he could see her better. “My staff has tried to get me to concentrate more on some of the other things I can do—education, job-training programs, housing—and I support all of that, but I threw my whole everything behind this bill. I guess . . . I don’t want to think this way, but putting my energy elsewhere seems like admitting defeat.” He sighed. “And I guess my politician ego couldn’t let go of what a major victory this would be. I told myself it would be a victory for the people, and it would. But it would be a big one for me, too.”

Olivia nodded.

“I completely understand that. But what if you frame it as throwing energy at additional options, but don’t give up on your bill yet? Keep fighting for your bill, but make this a new thing. Make this a new thing: about education, or health care, or housing, or some bullshit about ‘the American family’ or something. Talk to a bunch of teachers and parents and make sure you talk to the kids, too. Hell, go on a listening tour of town halls across California, focused on communities that don’t usually get heard, or youth, or whatever, to get ideas for how to help.”

He dropped his water bottle onto the blanket. Thank goodness he’d put the top on first.

“I love this idea! Town halls across California, in marginalized communities. It’s perfect. I’m going to text my chief of staff about this right now.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Olivia laughed.

“That poor woman, getting texts from you with random ideas on a Saturday.”

Max looked up from his phone and shrugged.

“Luckily she’s used to me by now. But also luckily, I don’t have any reception up here, so I can’t send it yet. Hold on: let me just note this down so I can send it later.”

He typed busily with his thumbs for a few minutes, then put his phone away.

“Sorry about that.” He touched her cheek, just for a second. “Thank you—for the idea, and for making me feel less discouraged about everything. And I’m sorry, we’ve been talking about me a lot, haven’t we? How are you? How is the firm going, still super busy?”

Olivia made herself smile big, like she always did when she got this question, and nodded.

“Oh yeah, really busy. I’m lucky I got away all afternoon today.” Suddenly, her lies felt like ashes on her tongue. She just couldn’t do it anymore. Not with Max. “No. Wait. I’m sorry, none of that is true. It’s not that busy at all, and I’m really worried about it.”

Max looked confused.

“Wait, what do you mean? I thought you’ve been wildly busy since you started?”

She shook her head.

“No,” she said again. “I know I told you that. I lied to you. I’m sorry. They say you’re supposed to fake it till you make it, and I’ve been faking it too much. We keep networking and reaching out to potential clients but we aren’t getting as much interest as I’d hoped. We have some clients, and we’ve done some pitches, but not enough, and I’m so stressed about it. I knew this would be hard, but I guess I didn’t realize how hard it would be on me.” She finally turned to look at him. “I didn’t mean to lie to you about this, but I’m just so anxious about it and scared that I made the biggest mistake of my life and that we’re not going to make this a success, and I’ll have to . . . anyway, I’m sorry.”