by Staci Hart
Maggie
My fingers flew on my keyboard that night, my brain tripping. I read over my response again to make sure I didn’t sound like an idiot. Yes, I would be available for an interview tomorrow. No, the notice wasn’t too short. That I was looking forward to meeting her, too.
I’d come home to a quiet apartment, all smiles. Went through my collection of delivery menus and ordered the best Thai curry I’d ever had. Freaked out when I’d gotten an interview request on a Sunday evening for an application I’d placed that morning.
Basically, I felt like I was standing on top of a mountain wearing a backpack full of hundred dollar bills.
I smiled and fired off the email before closing my laptop with a snap.
It was the job I wanted the most — Project Homestead. I’d need to put together a plan to prep, and I was grateful that the box of my teaching materials had already come from Jackson. I had my old textbooks and lesson plans and was ready to jump in, ready to get my head back in the game after so long off.
See, I’d only worked for a year out of college. When Jimmy and I got engaged over the summer, he urged me to quit so I could plan the wedding. Even before we were engaged, he made more than enough to cover our expenses, told me to hang onto whatever I earned teaching. That it was ‘my money.’ And thank God for that — I didn’t know how else I would have made it on my own once everything fell apart.
I’d always thought he just wanted to take care of me. It made me feel safe and cared for that he didn’t want me to worry about money. But looking back, I think he was just placating me, spoiling me like he would a child to keep me quiet and happy.
Everything looking back felt like a lie — I didn’t trust that a single thing he’d ever said to me was genuine. That every look was with the knowledge that I wasn’t his only girl, just his regular girl. That he’d been running around on me forever, and somehow, everyone knew except me. A spectacular show, that’s what it was. Once I found out, they all said that it was none of their business, that they didn’t want to intrude.
Southern manners, my ass.
In their defense, he seemed to have a regular set of girls — including my childhood best friend — and all of them knew about me. He never took them in public. It was all very discreet, nothing more than whispers and rumors. My best friend Brooke didn’t even know. Because God knew if she did, she’d have told me in an instant.
No, Jimmy was smart about it. And I was a fool for never questioning a thing he did.
I sighed and climbed out of bed, trying to push my thoughts away and focus on now. Now was so much easier. Simpler.
Now was a sexy boy toy. Now was Manhattan and Central Park and a job interview. A job interview I needed to pick out an outfit for.
I was elbow deep in business casual when my phone rang on my bed. I smiled when I scooped it up and found a picture of Brooke giving me moose ears and a kissy face.
I answered and held the phone in place with my shoulder. “Hey, Brookie.”
“Hey, Maggieboo. You free?”
“These days? Always. How are you?”
“Good. Just missing you. How’s New York treating you?”
“Pretty brilliantly. I kind of had an amazing day.” I held up a button-down to judge its worth. You can do better. I tossed it back in the pile.
“Tell me about your exciting adventures because I’ve got nothin’ to report except that I ran into Richard Peck at Joe’s bar. Remember how hot he used to be?”
“Uh, yeah. Everybody wanted some Dick.”
She snickered. “With a name like Dick Peck, you’d think he would’ve had a hard time getting laid. But I’m not even sure if he can see his junk without a mirror, never mind use it for pleasuring the ladies.”
A cackle shot out of me. “Oh, my God, Brooke.”
“Seriously, I watched him eat a twenty-ounce ribeye, a basket of onion rings, a side of chili fries, a giant piece of chocolate cake, and I think he drank a case of beer. The guy’s a mammoth.”
I shook my head, still chuckling. “Guess nobody sent him the memo that you can’t eat like a linebacker when you don’t work out like one. When he was a senior and I was a sophomore, I dreamed about that boy. West used to give me so much crap for it. He always knew what douche Dickie was, even though none of the rest of us could see it. Around here, they call that douchesparkle, and Dick’s was blinding.” I sorted through the pile of tops.
“Oh, man. It’s so true though,” she said with a laugh. “So, tell me about your brilliant day? Did it have anything to do with Cooper Moore?”
“You don’t always have to call him by his full name, you know?” I picked up a deep purple top with a little tie on the collar and eyed it.
“I can’t help it. It’s like calling Jared Leto just plain old ‘Jared’ or Michael Fassbender ‘Mike.’ I can’t do it.”
I laughed and tossed that one too. “He’s just a person like anybody else, Brooke.”
“Whatever. Tell me the details of your bangin’ sex life. Because Jackson is hot in every way aside from the kind that gets me laid.”
“Things are good. I saw Cooper earlier today, after I finished applying to a handful of jobs. I have an interview tomorrow with one, which is part of why I’m feeling extra amazing right now.”
“Ooh, that’s awesome. I hope it goes well! Now, tell me the story of Cooper Moore’s nakedness.”
I picked up a peach blouse, but it was too sheer. Tossed it back in the pile. “His nakedness was definitely one of the highlights of my day.”
She straight up giggled.
“I dunno, Brooke. He’s just damn fine and knows exactly what he’s doing. I mean, I’ve never been nailed so hard my knees go weak. Not before him.”
Brooke sighed. “I am so jealous.”
I shook my head, smiling as I picked up a cream blouse with a lace collar. Perfect. “It’s nice to not have any strings, you know? I don’t owe him anything, and he doesn’t owe me anything. No pressure, and I get to have my vagina rocked on the regular, for a little bit longer at least.”
“Right. The rules.” I could almost hear her rolling her eyes.
My face scrunched up. “What the hell, Brooke? Don’t you judge me.”
“I’m only slightly judging you. And not just because you let him bareback.”
I scoffed. “I’ve got an IUD, and he’s clean. There’s no reason to use condoms.”
“So you trust him with your sexual health but not with your heart?”
“Basically. You think West would kill him if he found out we were having sex? Imagine what he’d do if he found out Cooper gave me the clap.”
She chuckled. “I dunno, Mags. I think we should agree that one should never think twice about a gift such as Cooper Moore. I definitely don’t think I’d ever tell him I didn’t want to have meaningless sex with him anymore, or that he couldn’t take me to fancy dinners and hoity-toity Manhattan restaurants that you have to book months in advance.”
“Because then it could get serious, and I don’t want to get serious.”
“I’m just saying. You’re basically telling one of the sexiest men ever exactly what to do.”
“Sometimes he tells me what to do. In bed.”
She laughed. “I bet he does. How much longer until time’s up?”
“Two weeks.” A little flash of sadness shot through me, but I ignored it, focusing instead on which pants to wear.
“So what happens if you want to keep something going? What if he does?”
“Doesn’t matter if I want to or not. If I keep it going, there’s a chance I could fall for him.”
“You could fall for him anyway.”
I rolled my eyes as I folded the rejected clothes. “People don’t fall in love in a month.”
“That’s a pretty big presumption, Mags.”
“I just don’t get that sentiment. It’s part of why I don’t go bananas over romance novels. I mean, instant lust, that’s fine. I get that. I’ve felt that at th
e laundromat. Imagined gettin’ bent over a folding table by this gorgeous Persian guy. I might have propositioned him if he wasn’t sorting G-strings.”
“Were they his?”
“Wouldn’t have even mattered, so long as they weren’t his girlfriend’s.”
She laughed. “So you’ve experienced instalust, which makes it real. But since you haven’t experienced instalove, it can’t possibly be real. Sound right?”
“That about sums it up.”
“Oh, Maggie.” She sighed. “Instalust at the laundromat is way better than Dick Peck at Joe’s. You’re lucky you got out of here when you had the chance. You’d have been stuck here forever if you’d married Assface.”
We had a pact not to speak his name unless absolutely necessary. “Don’t remind me.”
“Is he still texting you?”
“At least once a week. Haven’t responded.”
“I see him here and there. I swear, every time, he pumps me for information like penny slots. Pop a question in, pull the lever, watch as my eyes roll around and around. I haven’t told him anything though other than to give it up. I maybe also threw my drink in his face on Friday night.”
I laughed, hoping it burned like hell. “Oh, that makes me happy.”
“I thought it might. So, what’s after Cooper Moore?”
“I dunno.” That sad feeling was back, and I brushed it away like a hornet. “I should just sleep around. Just be all about the D.”
“You told your fuck buddy that he couldn’t bang anybody else for a month. How the hell do you think you’re gonna be okay banging randos you meet in bars? I mean, do people even go to bars alone in New York without getting mugged?”
“Depends on what part of town, but it’s not like trying to run around Bangkok alone. Plus, West bought me a Taser, so I’m pretty sure between that and my lightning reflexes, I could fuck a sexual predator up.”
“He bought you a Taser?”
“Of course he did.”
“Well, at least you know he cares.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t exactly hide that light under a bush.”
She giggled. “So, what did you cross off your list this week?”
“Well, I’ve done most of the touristy stuff — finally did the Statue of Liberty and went to the Met Cloisters — but I’m getting to the point where the tourists are actually starting to bug me.”
“That’s so snobby. You really are turning into a New Yorker.”
“I know. But they’ll stand in the middle of the sidewalk in packs trying to look at a map and figure out where to go. Or like you’ll see groups all wearing matching T-shirts that just take up the entire sidewalk, and when they aren’t standing still, they walk slow as hell.”
“Eat any new weird stuff?”
I picked up the stack of tops and laid them back in the drawer. “Oh, we went to this one place called What the Kale where everything in the whole restaurant was made with kale. Like wraps in kale. Sandwiches, but instead of bread? Kale. Kale soup. Kale salad. Fried kale. Kale chips.”
“Did it at least taste good?”
I snorted. “Are you kidding? Superfood my ass. Everything tasted like dirt. No amount of butter can save that level of funk.”
“Damn hipsters.”
“I just left wanting fried chicken and french fries, or a corn dog. Really, anything fried would have done. I would have even settled for that smelly mac and cheese with gruyere.”
“Ew.” She chucked.
“I don’t really know what else. I’ve got this job interview tomorrow, and I’ve been doin’ a whole lotta nothing otherwise.”
“Liar. You’ve been doin’ a whole lotta Cooper Moore.”
I huffed and flopped back into bed, crossing my ankles as I adjusted the phone. “Call him Cooper, Brooke.”
“I can’t! Leave me alone!”
“It’s weird. Stop it.”
“Did you go to his fancy penthouse today?”
I smiled to myself. “Yeah, and then he came with me to read in the park.”
“That’s totally a date.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Was there kissing?”
“Nope,” I answered.
“Sensual touching?”
I laughed. “Not even a little.”
“Boring, but still a date,” she said flatly. “Do you think he’s interested in you for more than a booty call?”
“We’re talking about America’s Playboy. Of course not.”
“Okay, hypothetically, if he was into you, you really wouldn’t extend the four week rule?”
I hated this conversation, and we had it almost every time we talked. “How could I? There’s no universe that exists wherein I’m ready for a relationship, especially not with a sexy, rogue socialite.”
“You wouldn’t even be willing to try?”
“I don’t know how else to explain it to you, Brooke. I don’t trust myself or my feelings. I was a blind, naive fool with Jimmy. It’s painfully clear that I don’t know anything about relationships or love. How can I trust somebody else if I don’t even trust myself?”
She paused. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to push. I just want you to be happy and okay.”
I sighed. “So do I. But I’m happy, and I’m okay, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” I paused. “I miss you.”
She sighed. “You too. It’s just not the same with you gone.”
I stared at my Passion Pink toes. “I just had to get out of there.”
“I would have left too, honestly. Part of me wishes I had.”
My heart sank. “You’re doing the right thing, taking care of your grandma.”
She let out a long breath. “I know. She’s the only family I’ve got. But I still wish I could have come with you.”
“Me too. There’s so much to see and do, but I end up seeing and doing all by myself because everyone has real lives and real jobs.”
“Everyone except Cooper Moore.”
“Goddammit, Brooke.”
She snickered. “You should sightsee with him.”
“Have you not heard anything I’ve said? I’m not speaking German again, am I?”
“No comprende nada, Maggiecita!” she sang.
“No, you don’t understand, do you? Pushy ass.”
“I amuse you, don’t lie.”
I smiled. “Maybe a little.”
“Well, I just got to work, so I’ve gotta run. I love you. I’m glad you’re hanging in there like that cat on the poster in Mrs. Jensen’s fifth grade class.”
“Thanks, Brookie. I love you too. Make those tips.”
“Waitress extraordinaire. Nothing makes you feel like a boss quite like getting yelled at over pickles and mustard.”
“Just remember: Burgers and fries, nobody dies.”
She laughed. “Exactly. Bye, Mags.”
“Bye.”
I hung up the phone, feeling bummed. I couldn’t text Cooper again. I’d watched a million movies. My toes were already pretty, and I didn’t feel like reading. I was tired of being all by myself, but Lily had a show. Maybe Rose was off. And if not, I could always go to Habits.
I opened my door, feeling a million times better when I found Rose on the couch watching TV. Her black hair was in a knot on top of her head, her hand was in a bowl of popcorn, and I think she was still in her pajamas — black spanky shorts, a gray V-neck, and dark purple knee socks.
“Hey, Mags,” she said around a mouthful of popcorn.
“Thank God you’re home.” I plopped down on the couch next to her and smiled when I looked at the TV screen. “Oooh, Clueless. Good one, Rosie. Turn it up.”
“You guys are all deaf.” She grabbed the remote and adjusted the volume.
“You and Patrick have super senses or something.”
She made a face. “This is why my room sounds like a wind tunnel ninety percent of the time.”
I chuckled and grabbed a handful of popcorn. “You off ton
ight?”
She smiled happily and recrossed her ankles on the coffee table. “Sure am, which is why I won’t be putting on a bra or makeup.”
“Mind if I keep you company?”
“I’d love nothing more. Bring It On is up next, and then Drop Dead Gorgeous. I’m feeling the Kirsten Dunst tonight.”
“Drop Dead Gorgeous?”
“Uh, hell yeah. You’ve never seen it?”
“I’ve never even heard of it.”
She sat up a little straighter with her face lit up. “Oh, you are in for a treat. It’s one of the most hilariously twisted movies I’ve ever seen, about a beauty pageant in Minnesota where all the contestants get offed one by one.”
I grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and settled in. “That sounds terrible. I can’t wait.”
“I’ve got chocolate and whiskey, too. Girl’s night. Fuck yeah.” She raised her hand for a high five, and I slapped it gratefully.
“Fuck yeah.”
Cooper
Shelby poured us another round as West kicked his head back and laughed. Patrick and I sat on either side of him at Habits that night.
Lily was at a show, and Rose was off work, so when West said he wanted to have drinks, there was no way I’d refuse.
Everything was changing, shifting. Drifting. Not that it was a bad thing. I just knew that these moments would spread even further apart. I pushed away the thought that one day we wouldn’t meet this way at all anymore — like it was normal, easy.
I raised my glass. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks, West.”
“Alone, at least,” Patrick added.
“I know,” he conceded and picked up his whiskey. “But I’m not gonna apologize.”
I shook my head and picked up the fresh scotch. “All in, huh?”
“I don’t know how to operate any other way. Not when it comes to Lily.”
Patrick leaned on the bar. “All settled down and grown up.”
West looked into his drink and shook the ice around. “It’s so strange, but it’s the most natural thing. I’ve never been with anyone who I couldn’t get enough of. I think I could spend every waking minute with her, sleeping ones too, and never get my fill.”