She wound her fingers through his. “Let’s go to the Mirage. I want a fruity drink.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Eden and Stefan wandered over, arms draped loosely around each other’s waists in the comfortable manner of ex-lovers and friends. They’d had some kind of encounter last year, Jack remembered, but to their credit, both had taken the breakup in stride.
At the bar a few minutes later, the four friends raised their glasses.
“To graduation,” announced Jack.
“And friendship,” Eden added, with a sideways glance at Stefan. She leaned over and planted a kiss on Maggie’s cheek.
“And love,” Maggie chimed in. With one hand on Jack’s knee, she clinked her daiquiri glass against the others.
Yeah, to love, thought Jack, downing his beer. And everything that follows after.
*
“I think I’m a little drunk.” Maggie leaned against Jack, her eyes slits against the bright bar lights.
He rubbed the top of her head and glanced at his watch. Almost two in the morning. Damn, but time went fast, especially when you didn’t want it to.
“Where are Eden and Stef?” she whispered into his shoulder.
“Stef’s playing craps, and Eden’s playing a guy over by the roulette table.”
Maggie giggled. “I’m glad we came.”
He kissed her ear. “Me too.” God, he felt so filled up by her, as if every part of his life had been gray and dull before Maggie. He dreaded their goodbye at the airport next month. Even though he’d spent his entire college career working toward a Rhodes Scholarship, the thought of actually going to London and leaving his girlfriend behind made his chest split in two. We’ll have holidays, he tried to reassure himself, and maybe when she’s done with school she’ll come over for the last year and stay with me. Jack hadn’t told anyone his true plan yet: he meant to ask Maggie to marry him, this Christmas, maybe, or on her birthday in the spring. Then it wouldn’t matter how far apart they lived. He could stand any amount of miles, any amount of time, knowing that Mags waited at the end of it.
He slid off his barstool and helped her down.
“You know what would be funny?” She looked up at him.
He recognized the glint in her eye that meant her mind was spinning an adventure. “What?”
“If we got married out here.”
His mouth dried up. “What did you say?”
They neared the casino’s wide glass doors, and Maggie gestured outside. “There’s, like, fifteen wedding chapels in one square mile. Wouldn’t it be funny if we went back to New York and told everyone we’d gotten married out in Vegas?”
He didn’t answer for a minute. Stone sober, he looked down at her, then back at Eden and Stefan, then out at the small white building down the street. The sign outside it read “Elvis Weddings Available Here.”
“Yeah,” he said after a long minute. “That would be funny.”
*
Morning sunlight streamed through the cheap motel blinds, and Jack winced. Flipping over, he buried his face in the pillow and tried to go back to sleep. He heard a toilet flush and a door open and close.
“Jack?”
He rolled over again. “Yeah?”
Maggie sat down on the bed beside him, eyes red and cheeks white. “What is this?”
For a minute he wasn’t sure what she was pointing at. With her hands spread on the sheet, she stared at her fingers. He frowned. “The bed?”
She didn’t even break a smile. “No. What is this?” With a shaky right hand, she traced the silver band around her left third finger.
Truth slammed into his brain, and Jack sat straight up. He’d forgotten. For a few sleepy hours, he’d forgotten all about it. He glanced down at his own left hand. A matching band, slightly wider, circled his own finger.
“Did we—” She stopped as panic broke up her voice. “Tell me we didn’t.” Her gaze darted around the room, taking in the half-empty bottle of champagne on the bureau, the wilting white roses, the videotape labeled “Maggie and Jack.” She stared again at her finger, then at his. “Oh, no.”
Oh, no? That wasn’t the reaction he’d hoped for. Jack took a deep breath. Maybe they had been hasty. Maybe they should have waited. But they could still have a ceremony back East, couldn’t they? Mags could wear a white dress and have a regular line of bridesmaids. She could pick out whatever cake and flowers and music she wanted. He’d do anything for her; God knows his family had enough damn money to throw her whatever wedding she dreamed of. All he cared about was that she belonged to him. That they belonged to each other. Jack and Maggie Major. He smiled at the thought of it.
“This was a mistake.” She began to pace around the tiny room, moving from bathroom to window in five or six steps. She bit her bottom lip as tears streaked her face.
A mistake? Fear striped his insides. “Mags, wait a minute.”
It was your idea in the first place, he wanted to say, but he knew that wasn’t fair. She’d had too much to drink and been swept away by the excitement of the city. Had he taken advantage of her? Of the situation? Jack refused to believe it. She’d stood next to him at the little altar and looked up into his eyes. She’d said the words and kissed him with such ardor that he’d believed she knew exactly what she was doing.
Now doubt began to set in.
Before he could say anything else, Maggie had pulled on a t-shirt and shorts and disappeared from the room. Jack leapt out of bed, searching for clothes. Rifling through his bag, he pulled out a pair of jeans, stuffed his feet into old sneakers, and followed her. At the edge of the parking lot, he caught up to her. She stood staring out across a line of hedges behind the motel.
“It was a mistake,” she said again. She didn’t meet his gaze, just continued to look into empty space.
Jack’s heart thudded down around his knees. He thought she loved him. He thought she felt the same way about the future that he did. Had he gotten it wrong? He didn’t speak. He had no idea what to say.
After a long minute, she turned to face him. Her mouth turned down at the corners, and when he tried to read her eyes, he saw emotions he couldn’t decipher. “We shouldn’t have. It’s just—I’m not ready. You’re going halfway around the world in a few weeks.”
“I want you to come with me.”
“Jack, I have two years of school left. I can’t follow you to England.”
“You could transfer. You could study there with me. Or we could just wait until you graduate. Two years is a hell of a long time, but it isn’t forever.”
She shook her head. “We’re too young.”
His frustration grew. What was she saying? “Don’t you love me?”
When she looked up at him again, he thought the pain in her eyes might shatter him. “That isn’t the issue. Of course I love you. More than you’ll ever know.”
“Then it wasn’t a mistake.”
She straightened, shaking off the hand he put on her wrist, and in the next second she changed to a Maggie he had never seen before. Her face closed. Her eyes darkened. Her shoulders squared. “We were drunk. It was a mistake. And we need to get it annulled as soon as possible.”
Annulled…
Her words cut into him, deep and final. He followed her gaze across the desert, watching as the sun warped the sand into liquid gold in the distance. Maybe that’s the way life really is, he thought. Maybe it always looks better from far away. It’s when you get up close that you get burned by the truth. He closed his eyes.
“If that’s what you want.” He couldn’t bear to look at her.
“It’s best for both of us.”
Jack didn’t agree, not with any of it, but he let her go. He let Maggie walk across the parking lot. He let her find an attorney who could process the paperwork that day. He let her sleep on the flight home, and he let her have the space she said she needed when they arrived.
It was the biggest mistake he’d ever made.
11:00 p.m.
<
br /> Maggie stood in the enormous foyer of the Hotel Victoria. She clenched her elbows in her palms, hugging herself, and tried to burn away the sensation of Jack’s hands in her hair. She tried to ignore the tingling in her lips and the memory of his tongue exploring places it shouldn’t have. She couldn’t. She could barely draw a full breath. Her legs wobbled beneath her, those precious new shoes doing nothing to keep her steady. She felt as though she’d been set on fire, with emotions of every shape and color rippling under her skin. Dammit, Jack. Why now? Why tonight? Why after all this time?
Outside, the rain collected in puddles and splashed against waiting taxis. Lightning scorched the sky every few minutes, and weak thunder continued to bounce off the buildings. Car lights shone through the wet glass as Maggie stared into Boston’s darkness. A police car streaked by, followed by an ambulance. A more morose night in June she couldn’t remember.
“Dillon’s not coming,” she said after a minute. “He would’ve been here by now.”
“Maybe he’s caught in traffic,” Neve said.
Maggie shook her head as a stone settled on her heart. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew he wouldn’t be here. All she wanted to do now was give up and go home. She’d played her last card, done her best to think of a way to get the money, and it hadn’t worked out. Worse, she’d run headlong into a shadow from the past, someone who reminded her of all the things she still didn’t have in her life. Passion. Stability. A second half to match up with. Damn.
Well, forget it. Maggie squeezed her eyes shut for a second. Nothing she could do about it now, except move forward. In the morning, she’d call that software company and see what kind of offer they would make her for the house. At least that way, she could keep her business. Maybe. If she had any clients left. I wonder if I can work out of my car. I wonder if I can live in my car. The thought depressed her beyond belief.
“There you are.” Eden strode into the foyer, a glass of wine in each hand. “Hiding out?” She offered Maggie a glass. “Here. Thought you might need this.”
“I‘m not hiding out. Just getting ready to go.”
“Why? Because of Jack?”
“No, because I’m tired. And because this whole idea was a mistake. Dillon isn’t here, and it’s stupid to stay and wait for him.” And because if I see Jack again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep my hands off him. I can’t go down that road again. I just can’t.
Eden clicked her tongue. “Forget about Dillon. Didn’t I tell you I could get the money? I talked to Kurt. He’s making a couple of calls.” She looked at the slender gold watch on her wrist. “Speaking of which, I should find him and see what’s taking so long.”
Maggie’s hopes yo-yoed up again. “Really?” She wondered for a moment just who this Kurt guy was, and what Eden had promised him in exchange for the fifteen thousand dollars. The foyer door opened, and a small group of guests hurried in out of the rain. Maggie glanced at the car she’d already asked the valet to pull around. Her five-year old Honda with the dent in one door sat just beyond the hotel’s canopy, sandwiched between a BMW and a Lexus SUV. It doesn’t belong here. Neither do I. But she supposed she should tell the valet to wait a few minutes longer, just in case Kurt Whoever-He-Was did come through with the money.
“I’ll be right back,” she told Neve.
Maggie stepped into the rain. Maybe I really can keep the house. Maybe I can borrow the money and work out some kind of payment plan with the bank. And if I do get everything squared away, I’ll make changes. I’ll do things differently. I promise. She wondered exactly who she was making promises to—herself? Neve? A vague future? Or the big guy upstairs? She decided she couldn’t worry about the details.
She’d get an accountant and straighten out all her finances, so she didn’t ever end up in this situation again. She’d move Mom into the house with her, hire a nurse or something. That had to be cheaper than a full-time home, right? And Jack…well, if she could get through the next few minutes without seeing him again, she could leave and pretend tonight had never happened at all. She could relegate the dance, the kiss, and the memories stirring inside her to the dark corner of her heart where secrets stayed safely tucked away. Maybe she’d give Bradley Torrance another try. Or ask Andrew to set her up with one of his buddies.
With possibilities whirling in her mind, Maggie didn’t see the taxi come whipping around the hotel’s circular drive. She didn’t hear Neve’s cry of warning behind her. She only focused on the smudge of streetlights down the block as she walked toward the valet stand. She didn’t realize she’d stepped off the curb. She didn’t hear the horn. She didn’t feel the rush of air.
She would have walked directly into the path of the errant vehicle if Jack hadn’t wrapped his arms around Maggie, if he hadn’t pulled her out of the way and caught her when her legs gave out beneath her.
“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was rough, almost angry. Jack yanked Maggie back onto the sidewalk so hard that her heels dragged across the wet cement. A horn blared past them. One elbow twisted awkwardly behind her back. Rain dotted her dress and she felt Jack’s breath on her neck.
“I’m okay. Take it easy.” She struggled to stand on her own and found that her legs were shaking. “What happened?” She couldn’t put it together for a minute. Her heart jack hammered inside her chest, and she put one hand on her breastbone to try and calm it.
“You almost stepped in front of that cab is what happened.” Jack pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his forehead. “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me.”
Maggie looked around. The valet attendant stared at her. A few faces peered through the glass of the hotel doors. Ten feet away, a dark-skinned man climbed from behind the wheel of his cab and glared in her direction. God, what a mess I make. Everywhere I go.
She turned back to Jack. “What are you doing out here?”
“Looking for you.”
“Stop.” She tried to move away, even as he reached gentle fingers toward her face and pushed wet strands of hair from her eyes.
“What, you thought jumping in front of a cab was easier than talking to me about what happened in there?”
Nothing happened in there, she wanted to say. Just a mistake. She opened her mouth but couldn’t seem to get the words in the right order.
“Mags, are you trying to scare us all to death?” Eden squirmed past Jack and took her friend by the arm.
Maggie blew out a long breath. “I guess. Just wasn’t paying attention.” Gooseflesh broke out on her bare arms and she shivered.
“Come on. You need a drink.” Eden wrapped an arm around Maggie’s waist.
“No, really, I’m—”
“Well, I do, anyway, and at the very least, you’re going to sit there and watch me drink it.” Eden steered her back toward the hotel, rattling off sentences Maggie barely heard. A pale-faced Neve waited for her inside the foyer. Jack lagged behind, and she thought she heard him apologizing to the cab driver.
Back in the hotel, Maggie sank into the first chair she saw. Eden dashed to the bar. Neve tapped a single fingertip against her bottom lip, and worry creased her face. Maggie tried to rub away the hot spears of pain jabbing through both temples. She let herself relax against the chair, let the smooth velvet melt against her bare back. Then Jack stepped into the foyer with a funny, tender expression on his face, and she lost her breath all over again.
I can’t talk to him about this. I can’t. That near miss? That was a sign if ever I saw one. I might as well get struck by lightning, or have a plane write the words Go Back Home across the sky. I’m not supposed to be here. The universe worked in mysterious ways, she always told Neve. It let you know which direction you were supposed to take, in case you ever got stuck. You just had to pay attention to the signs.
Jack walked over to Maggie and put a hand on her shoulder. She felt herself bend under the weight of it, felt the pulse that jumped from his skin to hers. I didn’t mean it, she was about to say.
I didn’t know what I was doing. But before she could utter a word, a tall blonde walked into the foyer, mouth set and blue eyes icy. She looked as though she belonged on a magazine cover, Maggie thought at first, with all that hair and a designer dress and a body to match. But when the woman got a little closer, Maggie changed her mind. Unlike the models on the newsstands, this woman looked irritated. Cold. Empty-eyed. As though she might tell the photographer what he was doing wrong just before she ripped the camera from his hands and took the pictures herself.
Maggie waited for the woman to push open the door, to step out into the night and disappear. A few guests had already begun to trickle out. But she didn’t. Instead, she approached Jack.
“Paige, this isn’t the time.” He pulled his hands away from Maggie as if he’d been burned. His voice was low and impatient.
Paige? He knows her? Maggie re-crossed her legs and tried to shrink into the fabric of the chair. What the hell was going on here?
“We aren’t finished talking.” The blonde’s nostrils flared as she spoke.
“I am. I don’t want to do this now. Not here.”
Maggie tried to decipher the tone in his voice, the looks flashing between them. A business partner? Doubtful. His date? A barb of jealousy dug into her soul.
Jack cleared his throat, and Paige turned. She looked at Maggie and Neve. “I’m sorry. Have we met?” Her voice turned a fraction less icy. “Are they clients of yours?”
“Ah, no.” But he didn’t introduce them.
“Well, hello there.” She didn’t wait for Jack to say anything else. “I’m Paige Webster.” She raised two fingers in a sort of hello, a half-greeting as if they weren’t important enough to warrant anything more. “Nice dress, by the way,” she added, indicating Maggie’s gown, but Maggie thought she caught in her voice that tone of pretend that women use when they’re lying. “You’re the one who jumped in front of a car?”
Jumped? She makes it sound as if I did it on purpose. Maggie’s jaw twitched. “That’s not exactly what happened.”
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