He wanted to marry her.
"Hey, bro. Nervous?" Simon walked across the stage and eyed the cloth-covered contraption. "Can I see it?"
"No."
Simon shoved his hands into his pockets. "Everyone’s about finished with dinner. You ready?"
"Yep." Alex withdrew two thick envelopes from inside his tuxedo. "Give one to Maggie and one to Victoria after I reveal ShelveMaster, okay?"
Simon took the envelopes, but shook his head. "I hope you know what you’re doing, Alex."
"Me, too."
***
"Chicken’s dry."
"Gran." Maggie tapped her spoon against the plate, unaccountably nervous, and somewhat annoyed with Gran’s commentary about the food.
"Might as well have served us sawdust. Least I’d get some fiber that way."
Maggie rolled her eyes. "It’s a company dinner for more than 200 employees. What did you expect? Steak?"
"Red meat gives me gas."
"Gran!"
Gran crossed her arms. "You brought it up."
"I did not--oh, never mind." Maggie sighed. She missed Alex and wished he’d been able to come. At least she wouldn’t be so bored. Alex made the mundane fun. The only interesting thing about the whole affair was the opportunity to finally meet the president of the company. Her mysterious boss of a whole two weeks had never come into the office. She was just slightly curious about him, though. She’d been too preoccupied with Alex’s weird behavior to worry about much else.
"Hello, Ms. Conrad." Simon McCormick’s dimpled smile reminded her of Alex’s. Maggie shook away the ache in her gut. Everything reminded her of Alex. She was behaving worse than a lovesick teenager enduring her first crush.
"Could I impose on you for a moment?"
"Of course."
He sat down next to her and they made small talk until the blare of music halted all conversations. Maggie settled into her seat and looked at the front of the room.
The music lowered and deep voice said, "Welcome Convenience Unlimited employees to the introduction of the latest product in kitchen convenience."
Slowly, the curtains parted.
A table with a large, cloth-covered object dominated the stage. Next to it, stood a man in a tuxedo. Maggie blinked. Wow. That guy looked like–he flashed a dimpled smile in her direction and she almost fainted. Alex!
"What the heck is Alex doing on stage?" muttered Gran.
"Good question," said Maggie.
Mr. McCormick cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. His hand went to top of his jacket, then fluttered down to the table. Maggie returned her attention to Alex.
He looked gorgeous in a tuxedo. She longed to see him in jeans and a T-shirt, though. That was the Alex she knew.
Maybe he had a twin.
"And please welcome," boomed the narrator’s voice, "Alex Ross McCormick, founder and president of Convenience Unlimited."
Maggie’s breath hitched. Maybe Alex had a twin with the same first name. Because if he didn’t, then that meant he’d been lying to her. But why?
"Thank you ladies and gentleman for giving up a Saturday night." Alex’s gaze sought hers. He seemed to be asking for her to wait, to understand. She clutched the table, suddenly feeling dizzy.
"So, without further ado, I’d like to introduce our newest product... ShelveMaster!" Alex whipped off the cloth. The gleaming white shelves nearly blinded her; she blinked and realized tears had crowded into her eyes. As Alex’s strong voice outlined the shelves’ possibilities, the conversation they’d had in his apartment echoed in her mind. He demonstrated the shelves. They moved forward and back. Up and down.
And they followed voice commands.
Images flashed in her mind.
The pond.
The limo.
The machine parts scattered on the scarred desk.
The restaurant.
The pond.
The jet plane.
The luxury suite.
The damned pond.
"How stupid can I be?" she whispered.
"Here, Maggie." Simon thrust a napkin into her hand and she blotted her eyes. "He meant well."
"He lied."
"He loves you."
She shook her head, unable to respond.
"I’m supposed to give you these," Simon said.
He gave her a thick white envelope and gave one to Gran, too. "It’s a repayment of the salary you gave him, Ms. Simms. And both you get paid for the research and the ideas generated from my brother’s stay at your home."
"Keep it," said Gran. "He did the work and earned the money. Don’t need payment for ideas. Ideas are free."
Maggie shoved her envelope toward Simon. "I don’t want anything from Mr. McCormick. Least of all money."
She and Gran stood up. Maggie couldn’t even look at the stage. She wanted to throw up.
"Maggie, wait. Alex didn’t want to hurt you. He thought this was the best way to tell you the truth." Simon’s apologetic tone did nothing to assuage the lead butterflies in her stomach.
She dropped the napkin on the table. "He was wrong."
Maggie turned and followed Gran out of the ballroom and away from Alex--the man she thought she loved.
* * *
Chapter Thirteen
Alex couldn’t see much from the stage, the lights were too bright to see the faces of his employees. His heart thumped in his chest as he turned to where he thought Maggie had been sitting.
"And finally, ladies and gentleman, the ShelveMaster would not have been created without the help of Maggie Conrad. Please give her a round of applause."
He squinted and saw Simon alone at Maggie’s table. A vise squeezed his chest. Maybe she’d only gone to the bathroom. Yes. That was it. She had to powder her nose. Or something.
She wouldn’t have left.
Music blared, signaling the end to the presentation and the curtains closed. Alex wiped the sweat from his brow as he hurried off the stage. Getting through the crowd of people was an exercise in frustration, but he finally reached Simon. "She went to the restroom, right? She’ll be back in just a minute."
Simon stood and handed Alex the envelopes of money. "She’s gone, bro. She turned pale as a ghost after you unveiled the ShelveMaster. Then she and her grandmother left."
Alex stared at the envelopes. "Okay, she’s mad. No big deal. I’ll make it up to her."
Simon clapped him on the shoulder. "Sure, Alex. Whatever you say."
***
"Hi, you’ve reached Maggie Conrad and Victoria Simms. Leave a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible."
Alex’s tired voice filled the kitchen. At the table, Gran kept eating her eggs, but Maggie clutched her cup of coffee. "Maggie, it’s been four days, six hours, and fifty-three minutes. This is my thirty-sixth message. Why won’t you let me explain? What do I have to do? Please, please call me."
The machine clicked off.
"Gotta answer the phone some time," said Gran.
"No, I don’t." Maggie got up from the table and walked to the answering machine. She clicked the Record Message button. "You’ve reached Maggie Conrad and Victoria Simms. Please leave a message–unless you’re Alex Ross McCormick. I never want to speak to you again."
She turned it off, then burst into tears.
Gran put down her fork, wiped her mouth, then scooted away from the table. She folded her arms across her chest. "Maggie Lynn Conrad, plant your butt in the chair. It’s time for some plain talk."
Sniffling, Maggie dutifully pulled out a chair and sat down. She played with the sleeve of her nightgown and refused to look at her grandmother. She didn’t really want to hear Gran tell her what she already knew. She was behaving like a child. But Alex had lied to her. And worse than taking her trust, he’d taken her heart.
And kept it.
"Alex is a good man."
Maggie opened her mouth to protest, but Gran put out her hands in a stop motion. "I’ve heard my fill about what a liar
he is. And how he’s no better than Harrison. And how you’d rather eat broken glass than ever say his name again. And how pissed you are that he gave you a job."
"I quit."
"I know. That’s always been your problem." Gran stood up. "And aside from that, you’re too stubborn for your own good."
"I wonder where I get that from," muttered Maggie.
Gran snorted. "When Harrison left you at the altar, you cried--a little. You never went through this kind of angst, not since you lost your parents. The eleven-year-old girl that came to live with Gramps and me did everything she could to protect herself from pain. Then Alex came along and reached that little girl who walled up her emotions. He made you feel again. And that’s why you hate him."
"I don’t hate him. Much."
Gran brushed Maggie’s cheek, her gaze both stern and loving. "That’s all I’m saying on the matter. Now you can go back to sitting on your duff and feeling sorry for yourself." She turned and left the kitchen.
Maggie sniffled. Scratched her nose. Coughed. Hiccupped. Drew faces in her runny eggs. Maggie shifted in her chair. She was deeply annoyed with her grandmother for calling a spade a spade–or rather a scared Maggie a scared Maggie.
It was time to take some action. Some serious action.
She went for ice cream.
And ended up at the grocery store nearly getting bowled over by the last person she ever wanted to see–-second only to Alex McCormick.
"Harrison?"
He looked at the ice cream carton in her hand with a forlorn gaze she recognized. She’d seen it on her face this morning when she’d looked into the mirror.
"I like Funky Chunky with almonds," he said. "But the Brownie Blues is a good choice."
He looked pitiful somehow. Different from the dapper, slick businessman she had dated.
"What the heck’s wrong with you?"
"Sheila left me for the plumber." He sighed--a long, billowing sound she suspected could only be made by someone miserable from a broken heart. Such as herself.
"So you really loved her, huh?"
He stopped staring the Brownie Blues in her hand, then blinked as if he’d just become aware he was speaking to the woman he’d left at the altar.
"Oh hi, Maggie." Harrison found the sign announcing a sale on frozen vegetables suddenly very interesting. "How are you?"
"Very glad I didn’t marry you," she said.
He had the decency to flinch. "I’m sorry about that. I really thought you and I would make a good match. But Sheila...well, you understand, don’t you?"
Pity overwhelmed her anger. Hadn’t Harrison done her a big favor by being a selfish jerk? And better that they’d had no marriage at all than a quick divorce. It was clear, now, how wrong they’d been for each other.
And it sharpened the knowledge that she and Alex fit exactly right.
She handed Harrison the carton of ice cream. "I’m billing you for the ads you took from me."
"The company owned those," he said without much force.
"Not after you fired me. And it’s the least you can do for making me wear that ugly engagement ring."
"Okay, Maggie. And thanks for the ice cream."
She smiled. "Thanks for the wake-up call."
As she drove home, Maggie faced the facts. She hadn’t waited after the banquet to hear Alex’s explanation. Actually, she hadn’t wanted to hear his excuses. It was easier to be hurt and make him the bad guy than it was to face her own faults. She didn’t trust easily. And even though Harrison had hurt her by leaving her at the altar, she’d seen enough signs before she stuffed herself into that ridiculous wedding gown and waddled down the aisle. She’d used her failed attempt at a mediocre relationship as an excuse to not open herself up to real love.
And she was ashamed.
Maggie gripped the steering wheel. But would Alex give her a chance? Or would her treat her the way she’d been treating him? There was only one way to find out.
* * *
Chapter Fourteen
Afternoon sunlight filtered across Alex’s office. He grabbed his coffee, took a sip, and grimaced. Cold. He glanced at the phone, then buzzed his secretary. "Do I have any messages, Melissa?"
"No, sir. Oh wait. The line’s buzzing." Alex gripped the receiver. Then Melissa came back on the line. "It’s her, sir. It’s Maggie Conrad."
Alex almost swallowed his tongue. Apprehension bloomed in his stomach. He’d wanted to talk to her, to hear her voice, but now he was afraid of what she might say.
"Sir?"
"I’ll take the call. Thank you." He punched the blinking button on his phone. "Maggie?"
"I liked the shelves. You did a lot of work in just a week."
"Who needs sleep." He gave a half-hearted laugh. "I wanted to get them on-line so you could see how your idea worked."
"It was your idea."
"Maggie...I’m sorry. About everything. I wish I hadn’t lied. I wish...just let me explain, okay?"
"You’ll have to do it in person, Alex."
"Okay. I’ll leave right now."
"Good-bye, Alex."
God he hated those words. "Maggie?"
The line went dead. Alex rose from his desk, straightening his tie and combing through his hair with trembling fingers. He opened the door, glancing at his secretary’s desk. The back of her big black leather chair faced him. He saw the top of her head. "Melissa? I’ll be gone for the rest of the day."
The chair whirled and Alex found himself staring at Maggie. "She took a break."
Alex refrained from throwing himself on his knees and begging for another chance. But he loved this woman more than...than..."I’ll sell Convenience Unlimited. I’ll become a handyman. I’ll live in a shack. Anything you want. Anywhere you want. Anything for you, Maggie."
She blinked. Shifted in her chair. Pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I should’ve trusted you. I shouldn’t have assumed you used me."
Alex’s heart hammered in his chest as Maggie rose from the chair, walked around the desk, and stood in front of him. "Can you forgive me?"
He touched her cheek. "I asked first."
"I love you, Alex."
The ache in his heart melted away and joy filled him as her arms crept around his neck. He embraced her and inhaled her fragrance. Maggie. In his arms.
"I want to make babies with you."
"Okay."
"Want to get married?"
"Yes."
"We can honeymoon in Tahiti."
"Mmmmm."
"How about we--"
Maggie pulled his head down and looked into his eyes. His breath hitched at the love he saw in her gaze. "Alex, shut up and kiss me."
And he did.
* * *
Epilogue
Eighteen months later.
"Give Howard back his toupee, Alexandria," admonished Gran, taking the black hair away from the toddler and handing it to Betty Lee’s husband. He curled his lower lip. "Why, thank ya, thank ya very much."
Maggie exchanged a grin with Alex. It was dusk on the Fourth of July and everyone was picnicking on the banks of the pond. The lights of their home blazed just beyond the slight rise of the road, reminding Maggie of the light and love she’d found with Alex.
Sitting under the willow tree, Maggie snuggled against Alex as well as she could with a watermelon-shaped stomach.
Simon and Danielle happily chased their daughter around a grassy area, their laughter echoing that of Gran’s as she told Alex’s great-uncle Morris dirty jokes. Betty Lee and Howard sat at the edge of the pond, dipping their toes in the water and holding hands.
Moments like this made life worth living.
Alex rubbed her tummy and received a kick for his efforts. "Football player, definitely."
"Ballerina," Maggie countered. A warm gush of water soaked her legs. She struggled to sit up.
Alex helped her, alarm flickered in his eyes. "What’s wrong, honey? Is it a cramp?"
"I think we’re abou
t to find out if the baby’s a football player or a ballerina."
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