Maggie and Emma both nodded and said, “We will.”
Connie did a slow bob of her head and continued. “She and Bill had a long talk, and they’ve agreed to go to counseling together. She said she’s tired of being the drama queen and wants to make the marriage work. That she needs to grow up.”
“Not your typical Tracy response, is it?” Emma said with obvious concern.
“No, not at all,” Connie replied. “It makes me wonder if she’s really serious this time about changing. She was so much more…”
As Connie’s voice trailed off, Maggie jumped in with “Thoughtful?”
“Tracy? Thoughtful?” Emma said, sarcasm finally leaking into her tone.
“At lunch, she admitted that she should have listened to us. She also told me the same thing. That she was determined to make this marriage work.” Deliberating whether to continue, Maggie finally added, “She said something else too. Something that got me to wondering.”
“About what?” Connie pressed when Maggie hesitated.
“About us. About men or our lack thereof. She said we’re still alone because we’re all afraid.” She avoided their gazes as she delivered that message, because she feared what she might see there.
After a stunned minute of silence, Connie and Emma finally fought back.
“No way,” Emma said at the same time as Connie complained, “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
As much as Maggie wanted to join her friends in that denial, since the lunch, she had been thinking about Tracy’s observation and that maybe there was some truth to it. “I’m not sure she’s so wrong. If I’m honest with myself, it scares me to think about losing someone the way my dad lost my mom,” she said, her voice tight with emotion.
Connie and Emma both leaned toward her and offered their hands to hold. She took hold and graced them with a teary smile. “I’m okay, but it was tough back then. Mom was gone, and I felt like I had lost my dad as well. He was always working and hardly ever around.”
She kept to herself the loss she’d felt as a child when Owen and Jonathan had not returned the summer after her mother’s death. If not for her grandmother and Mrs. Patrick, their housekeeper, she would have been all alone to deal with her losses. The two older women had been there for her in Sea Kiss, providing support throughout her life.
“That’s not unreasonable,” Emma said and gave a reassuring squeeze of Maggie’s hand.
“Just like it’s not unreasonable that after what you went through with your mom and dad’s breakup, you’d be a little leery.”
A flush of angry color rose to Emma’s cheeks. “Who wouldn’t be? You think you know someone after eighteen years of marriage, and they up and leave you. Steal every penny you have.”
Maggie nodded and stared at Connie, who had gone silent once again. “I know you worry about being like your mom.”
“I love my mom,” she shot back, her features filling with a maelstrom of anger and guilt that she had been the reason for her mother’s dreams going unfulfilled. Connie’s mother had sacrificed going to college in order to care and provide for her newborn child.
“I know you do, but you don’t think you can have a successful career and a relationship too, right?”
Yet more silence greeted her until Connie gazed at her shrewdly and said, “I think Tracy’s comment challenged you to do something crazy, like test the waters with Owen. So what’s up with him?”
Emma chimed in with, “Yeah, you looked real chummy in that photo.”
“Nothing happened, but I can’t deny that he’s handsome. Smart. Funny, but not really funny.” She stopped and smiled, recalling the carefree exchange during dinner.
“OMFG, she is really hot for Owen. Smart women, foolish choices,” Emma said with traces of awe and concern in her tones.
“What normal woman wouldn’t find him attractive? I mean, he’s like a GQ god. Romance novel billionaire sexy,” she said and fanned her face.
“And he’s the son of your father’s enemy,” Connie added, worry coloring her every word.
Maggie considered her friend’s admonishment and shrugged. “Since I have no intention of my thing with Owen going anywhere, there’s no sense in talking about it anymore.”
“Smart woman,” Emma said with a confirming bob of her head and took another sip of her wine.
Maggie did the same, but as her gaze briefly crossed with Connie’s, there was no doubt that her friend sensed there was a lot more to the story that they hadn’t heard. But that was just too much information and still too fresh and confusing in her own mind, because no matter how much she wanted to deny it…
She was wondering what it would be like to be foolish for a change.
Chapter 8
I’m not looking for him, Maggie told herself as she peered into the mirror in the weight room and did a set of bicep curls. Behind her, fellow gym members came and went, many of them familiar, since they all seemed to exercise at the same time on a regular basis. Just like Owen did.
She had seen him on the Monday after their fateful encounter, and they’d exchanged a smile and hello head bob, but nothing more. They both seemed to understand that starting anything would be difficult, and yet, she couldn’t stop thinking about starting something.
Tuesday had come and gone with no sight of him, as had this morning.
She finished her weight training and headed to the treadmills for a quick jog. The noise was louder here with the slap-slap-slap of a flat-footed runner, the smells a little sharper thanks to runners’ sweat.
She was about to step onto one of the treadmills when Owen hurried in and spotted her.
Her heart raced as he walked toward her, a very sexy and masculine swagger in his step. He was wearing fitted running shorts that hugged lean and beautifully sculpted legs. A sleeveless T-shirt exposed toned arms and hung loose over his flat belly.
“Hi, Mags,” he said.
The lub-dub of her heart tripped a beat.
“Hello, Owen. It’s good to see you,” she said but stepped back from him, earning a puzzled look.
“Then why do you seem so skittish? Does this mean our friend truce is over?”
She scrutinized the gym and noticed a few acquaintances who would recognize both her and Owen. Maybe even some who would report to their fathers or another of the gossip rags.
“The truce isn’t over, but this isn’t really a good time or place, Owen.”
“Time or place for what?” he asked with a sexy grin, arched a midnight-black brow, and leaned closer.
She laid her hand on his chest to urge him to keep his distance. His body was hard beneath her palm, and he was close enough that she could smell his cologne mingling with his very masculine scent.
“For this. For you and me. I’m just here to work out,” she said. Not entirely true, since she had been looking for him and wondering about their relationship.
“Does that mean there might be another time that would be right for this? For you and me?” he asked, motioning between the two of them with an index finger.
She shook her head. “We said it was possible to be friends. Maybe that’s all this should be,” she said, repeating his move by pointing between the two of them.
“Just friends, huh?”
“It’s what makes sense, Owen. You were right the other night when you stopped.”
“What if I was wrong? What if this is something worth exploring?”
The thought of more was enticing but scary. “I’ve really got to go. I’ve got an early morning meeting,” she said and rushed past him.
* * *
Owen watched her go and, on some level, understood.
After all, he’d walked out on her days earlier when common sense had intruded on their very pleasurable interlude.
In the days since, she’d stayed on his mind, i
n large part because he wasn’t sure he wanted to be just friends with her. Another part, the one he really didn’t want to acknowledge, was the lie he’d perpetuated with his father. A lie necessitated by Maggie’s allure and his desire to see more of her.
And not just as a friend, he thought, recalling the passionate way she had responded to him and just how close they’d gotten to exploring that passion.
The pressure building inside his tight running shorts warned him to get his mind off Maggie before he embarrassed himself in front of the whole gym.
He took a deep breath to wrestle his need under control and hurried to the treadmill, hoping that he could run thoughts of Maggie right out of his brain.
* * *
“This doesn’t make any sense, Dad,” Maggie said as she reviewed the terms for the deal her father wanted to finalize.
“We’ve been buying from them for years, Maggie,” her father said in a tone both indulgent and firm.
“They sell these very same products to Macy’s and JCPenney, only they get better pricing because of the volume of their buy. We have to sell them for more or do a deep discount that eats away at our profits. If we can’t get the same pricing, we need to consider another vendor.”
Her father raised a gray-haired eyebrow in challenge. “Do you think you can do better on the pricing?”
“I think we can go with a more upscale brand at a slightly higher price. People used to expect better quality at our stores, and they were willing to pay a little more for that quality. Since they haven’t been getting it lately, they’re going to our competitors for the cheaper prices,” she said and boldly tossed the contract to the edge of her desk.
Her father placed his hands on his knees and slowly pushed himself to his feet. “I’m sorry you feel this way, but I’ve already committed to this deal.”
“It’s not signed yet from what I can see. No reason you can’t go back to them and explain our concerns. If you don’t want to do it, I will. I have no problem playing hardball with them.”
He folded his hands before him and met her gaze, his blue eyes, so much like her own, simmering with anger. “What makes you think they will agree to different terms?”
With an indifferent shrug, she tilted her head up rebelliously. “It doesn’t matter to me if they don’t. I have another vendor with better merchandise who’d be ecstatic to be in our stores. It’s what we have to do, Dad. We need to restore our image of better quality at competitive prices.”
It was an argument they’d had more than once, and as he had repeatedly done, he’d shot her down. Today was no different.
“I can’t risk losing this vendor. We’ve had too long a history with them, and anyone else would be an unacceptable unknown.” He swept the contract up off her desk and walked out, leaving her fuming as she stared at his retreating back.
She was so angry she was trembling and had to sit down to keep from running after him and snatching the contract out of his hands. After a few calming breaths and a quick look at her watch to confirm the time, she picked up the phone and dialed Connie. Since her friend’s law firm office was in the annex to the Chrysler Building, they regularly got together for lunch.
“Lunch? Tudor City Greens?” she said, more curtly than she intended, when her friend answered.
“Another bad day?” Connie asked.
“Another one. I’ll meet you in your lobby?”
“Give me five minutes, and I’ll be there.”
She grabbed her purse from a bottom desk drawer and walked to the anteroom of her office.
“I’m taking a break for lunch, Sheila. Please don’t call me on the cell unless it’s urgent, and by urgent, I mean—”
“Someone is bleeding or about to die,” Sheila said with a smile. “I get it, boss lady. You deserve a break.”
She deserved something else. Anything else, she thought as she took the elevator down to the lobby and then walked through the underground arcade connecting the Chrysler Building to what had formerly been the Kent Building. It was now the annex to the expanded Chrysler Center.
She greeted the security guards in the lobby as she waited for her friend, and as promised, Connie joined her just a few minutes later.
They hugged, and that simple embrace immediately loosened some of the tension in her body caused by the confrontation with her father.
“Thanks. I needed that,” she said.
“Anytime, my friend,” Connie replied.
Tudor City was just a short two-block walk, and as they strolled down Forty-Second Street, they stopped at one of the sandwich shops and bought food and drinks for a picnic lunch in one of the parks in that area.
When they were halfway between First and Second Avenues, they climbed the stairs up to where Tudor City Greens was located, walked into one of the parks, and luckily found a bench beneath some shade trees. When the weather was nice, it was sometimes tough to find a free place to sit down.
The leaves on the trees were lush and thick, providing protection from the strong summer sun. The scent from a nearby honeysuckle vine spiced the air, and mounds of flowers filled the beds of the park.
They sat slightly apart, leaving room on the bench between them for their sandwiches, chips, and sodas. Because Connie understood her all too well, she waited until Maggie had eaten some of her sandwich and calmed down a bit before speaking.
“You really shouldn’t let him get to you like that.”
Maggie nodded and took another bite of her sandwich. With some of her upset subsided, she was able to enjoy the flavors of the Black Forest ham, creamy brie, arugula, and honey mustard. After she swallowed, she said, “I know. It’s just that I’ve reached the breaking point with my dad. He won’t listen to a thing, even though it’s a reasonable suggestion. He just wants to do things the way he’s always done things.”
“The way he thinks your mother would have done things,” Connie said intuitively, dragging another nod from Maggie.
“Yes, only my mother would have been smart enough to evolve as the market changed. Or at least I think so based on what others have told me about her.” She’d barely been eight when her mother had died in childbirth, leaving Maggie with only distant memories of what she’d been like.
A thoughtful silence followed as they both ate again, a bit of sandwich followed by salty chips, soda to soothe thirst. She was almost done with her lunch when Connie said, “There may be things you can legally do if your father won’t listen.”
Maggie mulled over Connie’s statement but feared the repercussions on both personal and professional levels.
Every day, it seemed more and more that Tracy had been right about what was holding her back.
“Do you think we let fear keep us from doing things?”
“Things?” Connie said. “Like what kinds of things?”
“Like my standing up to my father. Taking the time to find Mr. Right.”
“I get the sense that you’re ready to deal with your father. There’s too much at stake for you not to,” Connie said and finished off her soda with a large gulp. “And neither of us has the time for romance right now.”
“Is it really about finding the time, or is it that you don’t want to be like your mom?”
“I love my mom, but she made a foolish choice that stole her dreams,” Connie said, looked down, and fiddled nervously with the fabric of her suit pants.
Maggie placed her thumb and forefinger beneath her friend’s chin and applied gentle pressure to urge her face upward. “You were that choice, and I don’t think your mother regrets having you for a single moment.”
“I know she loves me, and I love her. I just don’t want to be like her, which means staying on course until I get what I want.”
“A partnership in your firm,” Maggie said.
“A partnership. I’m this close,” she said and, to demonstrat
e, sized an almost nonexistent distance between her thumb and forefinger.
Maggie nodded. “I hope you get what you want.” But she also hoped that if love came along, her friend wouldn’t ignore it. A partnership didn’t keep you warm on a cold winter’s night. Which made her think about her own complicated situation.
“Do you think Owen is a foolish choice?”
Connie delayed for a bit, obviously giving the question a good amount of thought. With a shake of her head and a light laugh, she said, “Owen may be a difficult choice, but he isn’t a foolish one. On the other hand, his brother, Jonathan? Totally foolish choice. That bad boy spells ‘trouble’ with a capital T-R-O-U-B-L-E.”
A loud chuckle burst from Maggie. “Jonathan does have that whole James Dean rebel thing going on. Totally not my type.”
“Or mine,” Connie shot back quickly.
Maybe too quickly, Maggie considered as she examined her friend. Connie had always been über-responsible and über-determined. Jonathan was just the kind of man to shake up all that über-by-the-bookness.
“So what should I do, Counselor?” she asked.
“About your dad or Owen?” Connie replied as she gathered up the trash from their picnic lunch. Some potato chip crumbs hit the ground, and in a burst of activity, a few industrious sparrows swooped in to eat them, dragging laughs from both of them.
“We should be more like those birds and just seize the moment when it happens,” Maggie said.
“And after you seize Owen, Emma and I want a full report on all the sexy smoochies,” Connie said and rose from the bench.
Maggie rolled her eyes, stood, and walked with her friend to the entrance of the park. As they reached the gates to exit, she stopped and faced her friend. “You do remember that whole Romeo and Juliet thing ended badly, right?”
Connie held up her hand and started counting down. “One, they were teenagers. Two, you’re not in Verona. Three, you don’t have to rely on a monk with a donkey to deliver your message. You can just text him. Or better yet, sext him.”
One Summer Night Page 6