Maverick seemed to snap out of whatever thought he had been trapped in. The strange look in his eyes disappeared almost instantly.
A smile appeared on his face.
But it didn’t reach his eyes.
It looked practiced. Empty.
Amara noticed it immediately.
Maybe it was because she had spent years around Elias. When Elias smiled, she could always see the emotion behind it in his eyes—the warmth, the amusement, the happiness. His smiles had always felt real.
Maverick’s smile felt nothing like that.
Seeing that emptiness in his smile made something inside her chest feel hollow too.
Trying to ignore the strange feeling, she extended her hand toward him.
“How are you, Mr. Bishop?” she asked politely. “I’m Amara.”
Maverick tilted his head slightly as he looked at her hand, then at her face again. His gaze lingered a little too long, making her fingers slowly stiffen in the air.
“You’re Elias’s wife?” he asked finally, his tone calm but strangely sharp.
“Ex-wife now,” Amara corrected with a small laugh. “That’s why I’m on a blind date.”
Finally, he reached out and shook her hand.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I figured that much when I found out you were the one coming.”
His eyes stayed on her face for a second longer before he gestured toward the chair opposite him.
“Come. Sit.”
The table was small, meant for only two people, positioned beside a large glass window overlooking the city outside. Maverick settled into his seat, leaning back slightly as Amara took the seat across from him.
A waiter soon appeared to take their orders. Maverick ordered a hot Americano, while Amara asked for a latte.
Not long after, the waiter returned with their drinks, carefully placing the cups down on the table before quietly walking away.
Silence settled over the table again.
Maverick tapped his fingers lightly against the side of his coffee cup before looking at her.
“You know me?” he asked suddenly.
“Yes,” Amara admitted. “We were never officially introduced before, but I’d seen you around Elias a few times. I know you’re one of his close friends.”
A faint smile appeared on Maverick’s lips again, though this one looked more like a smirk.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “A very close friend.”
There was something strange in the way he said the wordfriend, almost like he was mocking it.
Amara wrapped both hands around her latte, enjoying the warmth against her fingers before taking a small sip.
Across from her, Maverick adjusted slightly in his chair before lifting his Americano. His eyes stayed on her even as he drank.
“Miss Hawk,” he said casually, adjusting slightly in his seat, “how do you feel after the divorce?”