An Unlikely Setup

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An Unlikely Setup Page 16

by Margaret Watson


  He recoiled. “Maddie, I—”

  She didn’t let him finish. She couldn’t bear to hear any more. “Thank God you opened my eyes. But you know what? You don’t get to reject me again, Quinn. I’m rejecting you.”

  She turned and walked away, aware of his gaze on her back. Aware of the silence from the people around them.

  David had always told her she had to control her impulsiveness, or it would get her into trouble. He’d been right.

  She’d been right when she left town, too. There was a reason she’d stayed away for fifteen years.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  THE CROWD GATHERED behind him went completely silent as Quinn watched Maddie walk away. He swung around and glared at them, and they shuffled their feet and murmured to one another. No one looked at him.

  What the hell was the matter with Maddie? He couldn’t remember what had happened at some stupid party fifteen years ago.

  Just before she turned the corner, she stumbled over a bump in the sidewalk where a tree root had buckled the cement. Augie Weigand reached out to steady her as her sandal came off. Instead of putting it back on, she nodded at Augie, scooped up the shoe and kept walking.

  Making Quinn feel like a piece of crap.

  One of the fire trucks beeped as it backed up. For the first time, he had an unobstructed view of the ruins of the Harp. He sucked in a breath, blindsided.

  Maddie would have wrapped her arms around him.

  He remembered her hands cupping his face, her legs wrapped tight around his waist. How she’d clung to him as if she’d never let go.

  What was wrong with him? He’d thought he had better control of his temper than that.

  She’d scared him on a gut-deep level. So he’d done what he did with everyone. He’d pushed her away.

  No wonder no one would look at him. No wonder they were all keeping their distance.

  What happened to the Harp wasn’t Maddie’s fault. She’d just been the most convenient target. And he’d known exactly how to hurt her.

  She needed to sell the place. But instead of complaining, she’d tried to comfort him.

  Quinn slumped against the bumper of his truck. He should find her. Apologize. Make it right, somehow.

  But ten minutes later, after wandering through town, he hadn’t found her. Just like smoke rising from the ruins of the Harp, she’d vanished.

  Maybe it was better that she had. He wiped his hands over his face, then stared at the soot smeared on his palms. Maybe it was better that it was over now. He’d only end up hurting her more in the long run.

  He’d quit on Otter Tail when he’d left as a teen. Then he’d quit the police force. Now he’d quit on Maddie, less than an hour after they’d made love.

  If she was smart, she’d want nothing more to do with him.

  If he was smart, he’d stay as far away from her as possible.

  He climbed into his truck and stared at the ruins of his pub. By the time the sun started to rise, only a few wisps of smoke drifted up from the blackened shell. The last of the firefighters had packed up and driven away, and the crowd had dispersed long ago.

  He was alone.

  MADDIE WOKE SLOWLY and resisted the urge to open her eyes. Something hovered on the edge of her consciousness, something dark. Something she didn’t want to face.

  Quinn.

  She rolled over and stared at the canopy above her bed that Quinn said looked like an explosion in a ruffle factory.

  She didn’t want to think about him.

  She couldn’t think of anything else.

  Finally, throwing off the covers, she padded downstairs to the kitchen. She needed coffee.

  Pouring water into the coffeemaker, she told herself she should have had the Green Bay newspaper delivered. It would have given her something to do this morning. Something to focus on besides what had happened last night.

  Who was she kidding? Nothing could push Quinn out of her head. They’d made love. More than once. It had been perfect. She’d felt as if she’d found the place she’d been searching for. In Quinn’s arms.

  An hour later, he’d told her he wanted nothing more to do with her.

  Then she’d made a fool of herself in front of half the town.

  She had to get out of here. How could she stay, now that Quinn had dumped her so publicly? After she’d revealed what had happened after the party. Next time she went to work, they would all know the truth.

  No. There wouldn’t be a next time at work. The Harp was gone. Nothing but ashes.

  She’d go back to Chicago. Maybe it didn’t feel like home anymore, but it was safe. She knew who she was in the Windy City. She hadn’t built up any illusions about herself there.

  Holding her coffee mug tightly in one hand, she found a pen and a pad of paper and began to write down what she’d need to do before she could leave. After “packing” and “call Laura,” she faltered. The desk. David’s desk. She’d have to arrange for Delaney to deliver it.

  The desk belonged in David’s house. Maddie had already picked a spot for it, next to a window in a nook in the library. She’d imagined watching the seasons change, putting out a couple of bird feeders. A slice of Lake Michigan was visible in the distance behind the trees. She’d been looking forward to seeing it gray and stormy in the fall, crusted with ice in the winter, bright blue in spring.

  Opening her cell phone, she pressed Delaney’s number. “Hi. It’s Maddie,” she said, when Delaney answered.

  “How are you doing?” the other woman asked. “I heard about the Harp.”

  About her fight with Quinn, as well? “I’m okay,” Maddie said wearily. “No one was hurt.” Except me.

  “Quinn must be pretty upset.”

  Talk about an understatement. “Yeah, he is. Listen, I forgot to set up a time for you to deliver the desk. When would work for you?”

  Silence hung heavily for a moment. “What happened?” Delaney finally asked.

  “Besides the Harp burning down? Isn’t that enough?”

  “Yeah, that’s why I know something happened. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be worrying about the desk.”

  Maddie pressed her fingers to the glass and stared blindly at the lake. “I’ll be busy trying to deal with the Harp, so I’m trying to get other things settled.” Not exactly the truth, but not a lie, either.

  Another silence. “Okay, Maddie. When do you want it?” Delaney’s voice had cooled, and Maddie realized she’d lost a chance to connect with the woman. To nurture the fragile friendship that had gone off track when Delaney found out about YourMarket.

  That didn’t matter, either. In a couple of days, she’d never see Delaney Spencer again. “Whenever works for you,” Maddie said through her suddenly thick throat. “Just let me know and I’ll be here.”

  “How about later this morning?”

  “Great. I’ll see you then.”

  Maddie closed up the phone and headed upstairs to pack her clothes.

  DELANEY ARRIVED a little after noon, with Paul, Jen and Jen’s father, Al Horton, in tow. Fifteen minutes later, the desk was in place. The gleaming cherry wood looked even better in David’s library than Maddie had imagined it would.

  “It’s beautiful,” Jen said.

  “Work of art, as usual. Delaney, you do damn good work,” Al Horton said. Maddie hadn’t met Jen’s dad before, but she liked the gruff, friendly man.

  “Thanks, Al,” Delaney said easily. “I appreciate the delivery help.”

  “Least I could do, after you refinished those tables for me. Nell is thrilled with the way they turned out.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Jen looped her arm through her father’s and steered him toward the front door. “Could you drop Paul off at Delaney’s, so he can pick up his car?”

  Al’s bushy eyebrows rose. “Trying to get rid of me?”

  “Not at all,” Jen said. “You’re more than welcome to stick around. Delaney and Maddie and I are going to talk about men and
sex.”

  Al turned red. “Smart mouth,” he muttered. He jerked his head at Paul. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Maddie smiled as the two hurried out of the house. As the door slammed behind them, she stood at the desk, positioned just the way she’d imagined it. It fit the room perfectly. Just as David had known it would. Her smile disappeared.

  “All right, Maddie. What’s up?” Jen said from behind her.

  “The Harp burned down last night.” Maddie smoothed one hand over the desk. A faint scent of freshly cut wood clung to it. “That’s what’s up.”

  Jen sighed. “Besides that. Something happened with Quinn. Everyone was talking about it this morning at the Cherry Tree.”

  “No one gave you the details?” Maddie turned to face the two women. Delaney stood next to the big leather chair. Jen leaned against the wall. Both watched her carefully.

  Delaney was the first to move. She slung an arm over Maddie’s shoulder and steered her into the kitchen. “We want to hear your side of the story.”

  Maddie’s eyes burned. “It’s too humiliating to talk about.”

  “That’s what girlfriends are for,” Jen said, pushing her into one of the kitchen chairs. Delaney sat down, too, and Jen picked up the bottle of wine on the counter and pulled out the cork. “We need wine for this conversation.”

  She poured two glasses and passed one to Maddie. When she didn’t ask Delaney if she wanted a glass, Maddie raised her eyebrows at the other woman. Delaney shook her head. “No, thanks.”

  “All right.” Jen centered the wineglass in front of her. “Now we’re ready to share your humiliation and plot revenge on the one who inflicted it.”

  It made Maddie cringe to think about telling them what had happened. But they might as well hear it from her.

  “Quinn and I got into a fight.” She slumped in the chair. “At the Harp, while it was burning.”

  “He was an idiot, wasn’t he?” Jen said.

  “He was upset.”

  Delaney cocked her head. “You’re defending him?”

  Maddie moved the wineglass on the wooden table. “No. What he did was…It was horrible,” she finally said. “But I understood he was upset. It was just that it happened right after…”

  She took a gulp of wine and pushed away from the table to stare, unseeing, out the window.

  “You’d just made love,” Delaney said quietly.

  “How did you know?” Maddie asked.

  “Many of the worst moments in a relationship come after sex,” she said.

  Maddie turned around, to find Delaney’s expression closed. “You sound as if you speak from personal experience,” she said lightly as she returned to the table.

  Delaney got a glass of water. “I haven’t spent my life in a convent. So what did he say?”

  “Knowing Quinn, it was probably choice,” Jen muttered wryly. She patted Maddie’s hand. “He was scared.”

  “I was, too,” Maddie admitted. She closed her eyes and fought to control the quaver in her voice. “This wasn’t easy for me, either. My feelings for Quinn were all mixed up with how I feel about this house, the town, the pub. Business.”

  “Trust me, business had nothing to do with Quinn’s reaction,” Jen said. “He must have fallen hard for you.”

  “That’s so comforting.”

  “I’m serious,” Jen insisted. “I saw the way he looked at you. And he talked to you. Told you things.”

  “It was about sex and nothing more.” Maddie took another sip of wine.

  “You’re the first woman he’s dated since he moved back here,” Delaney pointed out.

  “And it took him less than two weeks to get me into bed. So not only am I a temporary resident, I’m easy, too.” She took a gulp of wine. “Perfect, from his perspective.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself,” Jen said.

  “She’s not hard enough on Quinn,” Delaney said.

  “That, too.”

  “The next time I’m attracted to a man, I’m going to run the other way.” Maddie stared at the dregs of wine left in her glass.

  Jen nodded. “Always the smart thing to do.”

  “Just tell me one thing.” Delaney leaned forward. “Was the sex at least fabulous?”

  “Beyond fabulous,” Maddie said with a sigh.

  “That’s too bad.”

  “No, it was too good.” Maddie giggled and pushed her wineglass away. She’d wanted to be numb. To forget. But she’d had enough.

  “Okay, now that we’ve decided Quinn is a bastard, let’s move on to the revenge portion of the plan.” Jen slapped her hands on the table.

  “It sounds as if we’re back in high school.” Maddie glanced from her to Delaney. “Doesn’t it?” She’d never talked about boys with her friends in high school. None of them ever had dates.

  “Hey, you have to fight fire with fire,” Jen said. “We’ve matured past revenge, but guys don’t change. You have to hit them where it hurts. And we all know where that is, don’t we?”

  “It sure isn’t their head,” Delaney said, grinning.

  Jen and Delaney were her friends. They’d come over to comfort her. To try to cheer her up. Why did everything have to fall apart now? Maddie wondered. Why did she have to leave Otter Tail just when she’d found them?

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I almost feel sorry for him.”

  Fifteen minutes later, she finished telling them about the disastrous party and what had precipitated it.

  “High school kids can be cruel,” Jen said softly. “And we carry those scars for so long.”

  “What happened to you?” Maddie asked.

  Jen shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now. And I’m never going to see the guy again. Although, for the record, I was the mean one. What I did was horrible. And I’ve regretted it ever since.”

  “We’ve all done things we regret. I bet you have, too,” Delaney said to Maddie.

  “Of course I have. And publicly blurting out my teenage humiliation is right up there at the top of the list.” She shook her head. “What’s the matter with me? Why do I still care about what happened when I was sixteen?”

  “We all have those moments, frozen in time, that we relive over and over,” Delaney said.

  “You want my opinion?” Jen asked gently. “Everyone will forget about what you said in a day or two. We hope you’ll stay.”

  “Besides, we’ll make Quinn suffer,” Delaney assured her. “That’s where the second part of the plan comes in. The revenge part.”

  “When a guy doesn’t care, there’s not much you can do for revenge,” Maddie corrected her.

  “He cares,” Jen said. “Trust me. Otherwise he wouldn’t have had that meltdown.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Delaney asked.

  “I have an idea,” Jen said, her eyes brightening.

  “Yeah?” Delaney raised her brows. “Spill.”

  “Martha offered Quinn the Cherry Tree in the evenings. As a temporary Harp, so he still has money coming in.” She glanced at Maddie. “I heard her say that he needs as much money as he can get to buy the land now.”

  “Martha? Martha offered to let him use her place? For free?” Delaney stared at Jen. “The same woman who won’t give you a raise? The woman who rubs her pennies together until they scream for mercy? Did aliens abduct her and put a pod person in her place?”

  “I couldn’t believe it, either. But I heard her talking to him.” She smiled. “So here’s what we do.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  IT TOOK TWO DAYS to transform the Cherry Tree Diner into the Harp South, as everyone was calling it. It seemed as if the whole town had pitched in to help—everyone but Maddie. Maddie, Jen and Delaney had decided she needed to stay away from Quinn until the temporary Harp opened.

  She’d kept busy talking to the insurance company and examining the burned out pub with the adjusters. She hoped it wouldn’t take too long for them to send a check.

  But whenever she
managed to put the pub and her finances out of her head, Quinn was waiting in the wings. A fresh wave of pain swept over her every time she thought of him.

  In her sane moments, Maddie wondered what the heck she was doing. Why had she let Jen and Delaney talk her into their scheme?

  It was clear Quinn was no longer interested. The hours that passed without a phone call just underlined his words. He was a player—excited by the chase, bored when he caught his prey. Maddie should salvage her pride and forget about him.

  She didn’t want to forget about him. She couldn’t quite extinguish that last tiny flicker of hope.

  And Jen’s plan would be satisfying. Show the player what he’d lost. Torment him with the vision of what had once been his.

  Maddie paused at the door of the diner, smoothing down her skirt. She could do this. She’d smile until her face ached, flirt with every guy, and ignore Quinn.

  Juvenile? Yes. High school? Absolutely.

  But she was a desperate woman. She hadn’t been able to come up with anything better. So she’d give it a try.

  She opened the door of the Cherry Tree and took a deep breath.

  Some tables had been stacked and pushed into a corner, leaving an open space in the middle of the restaurant, which was crowded with customers. The booths against the walls were all occupied. Bins of ice filled with bottles of beer stood on the floor behind the counter, and Quinn was ringing up sales as fast as he could. A line of people waited patiently to buy a drink. Jen had offered to cook until nine o’clock, and Maddie could see her moving around in the kitchen.

  It looked as if everyone in Otter Tail was there. All to support Quinn.

  Ignoring the lump in her throat, Maddie grabbed an apron from behind the counter. Quinn stopped her before she could get to work.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She shook off his hand. “I work here. Or did you fire me?”

  He let her go and studied her, his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think you’d show up.”

 

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