Connections

by Amelia C. Adams

  As he shoveled the thick, heavy mixture into the forms, he wondered what Maggie was doing at that moment. Probably something completely odious, like choosing out shirts. He cringed. He’d rather be strung by his toenails over a pit of crocodiles than choose out shirts. On the other hand, shopping with Maggie might be kind of fun. He imagined that doing almost anything with Maggie would be fun, up to and including buying socks.

  He shook his head and focused on his task. It wouldn’t do him any good to think about Maggie right now. Later, after the work was done, he’d try to figure out what was happening. For just right then, he had a promise to keep to Jimmy.

  ***

  The apartment building where Andrew had sent Maggie wasn’t ritzy, but it was very nice, and when Maggie walked into the lobby, she was impressed by how clean everything was. She found the manager’s office on the main floor and told him who she was, and he brightened immediately.

  “Yes, Mr. Brody said you’d be coming by. I have a nice apartment on the third floor that just came vacant the other day. Let me show you.”

  The elevator lurched just a little when it started to climb, and the manager offered an apologetic smile. “I’ve had a call in to the mechanic for a week,” he said. “We’ll get that fixed as soon as we can. In the meantime, if it scares you, we do have a staircase.”

  Climbing three flights of stairs scared Maggie more than a lurching elevator—exercise wasn’t really her thing—but she smiled and thanked him.

  The apartment itself was like a little slice of heaven. She hadn’t expected it to be furnished and had actually been wondering what to do about a bed and whatnot, but when the door opened, she saw a full set of furniture, from sofas in the living room to a table in the kitchenette. Everything was done in classic white and gray, with hardwood floors and contemporary art on the walls. “It’s beautiful,” she said, looking around with wide eyes. She probably looked ridiculous gawking like that, so she tried to pull it together as she turned back to the manager. “This is so nice.”

  “Mr. Brody has taken care of the deposit and the first month’s rent. He told me he’d work that into your salary,” the man said, holding up a hand when she started to object. “If there’s something you should know about Mr. Brody, it’s that he wants his employees to be treated fairly.”

  “But he just met me,” Maggie protested. “How does he know he can trust me?”

  The man looked at her curiously. “Can he?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Then that must be how he knows.” He pulled a sheet of paper from a drawer in the kitchen. “Here’s our rental agreement. I’ve written in the concessions Mr. Brody asked for.”

  She glanced over the terms. The rent was higher than she was used to paying, but then again, she’d be making more than she was used to making. She signed before she let herself think about it too much. Sometimes the right thing to do was just leaping in and having faith that it would all work out in the end.

  “Very good. When will you be moving in?”

  “As soon as possible. Right now, if I can,” Maggie replied.

  “Perfect. When will your truck be here?”

  “My truck? Oh, you mean my moving truck? I just have a couple of suitcases.”

  If the man was surprised, he didn’t show it. “Let me help you carry those up, then.”

  Five minutes later, both bags were sitting on the bedroom floor, and Maggie was alone in her apartment. Her apartment—the first place she’d ever lived on her own. She reached for her phone, ready to call Zoe and tell her the good news just as she had over and over again since they were teenagers, but Zoe was in jail, and Maggie couldn’t call her. The reality of Zoe’s situation—and her own—settled over her, and she sank onto the bed. Would this experience help Zoe realize the dangerous path she was on? Maggie had no idea. All she knew was that she was being given a second chance, and she was going to jump in and do it right. She was ready to see what the other side of life had to offer her.

  Chapter Four

  Maggie stepped back and wiped her forehead on the back of her wrist. Florence hadn’t been kidding when she’d talked about hard work—the carpet installation and floor varnishing and painting was all done, but there was construction dust everywhere, bits of carpet fiber floating in the air, and the furniture was slightly off center here and there. Florence had brought in a housecleaning company to help get things started while she interviewed more applicants, and they’d all put in a long day.

  The first four rooms were done to perfection when Florence called for a break. Maggie headed downstairs, planning to grab something off the dollar menu at a nearby fast-food restaurant, but saw a pretty redhead coming in the front door, her arms full of sacks.

  “Lunch,” she called out.

  Andrew grabbed a few of the bags out of her arms and set them on a table they were using as a counter in the lobby. “I’m sorry the dining room isn’t ready yet, everyone,” he called out. “Give us another few days.”

  Maggie edged toward the door, feeling a little out of place in the middle of these strangers who all knew each other, but the redhead took a step and intercepted her. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Tabs, and I brought a ton of food. Come join us.”

  “Hi. I’m Maggie.” She glanced around. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

  Tabs laughed. “Of course it is. You work here, right? And you’re starving?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, those are both very good reasons.” She started pulling sandwiches out of bags. “We have roast beef, chicken, cheeseburger, tuna melt . . .”

  “Wow. Um, I’ll take a roast beef,” Maggie said, and Tabs handed it over.

  “Oh, and there are fries over here.”

  Armed with sandwich, fries, napkins, and a drink, Maggie sat on the bottom step of the staircase and looked around at the people who had come trickling in to eat. She had started putting names to people throughout the day and figured out what some of their roles were. Andrew was the owner and the boss, of course. Marissa was the interior decorator, and Maggie was pretty sure she and Andrew were dating. Griffin was the architect, Florence was the manager, and Rob . . . She ducked her head and tried not to grin as she saw him walking toward her, his hands full of food as well.

  “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

  “It’s a free staircase.” She scooted over to make room for him.

  “How’s your first day going?” He set his can of Sprite down by his feet and unwrapped his chicken sandwich.

  “Great, but tiring. It’ll be nice to get the rooms all put together. Half of them look fantastic, and the others . . . well, they’re a total mess. But we’ll get it.”

  “Can’t wait to see them.”

  “So . . . what have you been up to today?” She hadn’t seen him since she’d arrived that morning, and she was surprised to realize that she’d missed him. How could she miss someone she barely knew? It didn’t seem at all logical, but it was what it was, and she couldn’t deny it.

  “Working on the handicapped access rooms. We’ve got the floor joists laid, and I imagine we’ll be ready for the hardwood flooring by tomorrow.”

  “Sounds great.” She wasn’t actually sure what floor joists were, but they sounded impressive and construction-like. “Who’s the redhead over there? Tabs or something?”

  Rob nodded. “Tabs Morrow. She’s Marissa’s assistant. She and Marissa are just about done with their part of the project, but they’re sticking around to help with this and that. Like getting lunch.” He lifted his sandwich as though presenting evidence.

  “Decorators are running errands? That doesn’t seem like the best use of their skills.”

  “They’re doing it because of their emotional investments to the cause.” To her confused look, he continued, “Andrew and Marissa are practically engaged, and Tabs and Griffin started dating a couple weeks ago.”

  “Oh. That makes sense.” Maggie had guessed right on one couple, and she’d just met Tabs, so she d
idn’t feel too far behind in not figuring out that relationship yet. Now as she watched them, sitting side-by-side on the floor and rubbing elbows as they ate, it was totally obvious. “Who are the others?”

  “The blond guy there is Will, Griffin’s assistant. Danny and Mack are two of my guys—over there by the front door.”

  “Which one’s Mack and which one’s Danny?”

  “Mack’s the shorter one.”

  “Uh, they’re sitting down. How am I supposed to tell?”

  Rob laughed. “Sorry. How about, Mack’s in the red shirt and Danny’s in the green one.”

  “Better.” Maggie took another bite, then swallowed. “Florence wants me to meet a couple of people she interviewed this morning. She says I have a say in who gets hired, since I’m the head of housekeeping.”

  “Oh?” Rob sipped his drink, watching her. “You look a little unsure about that.”

  “I’ve never been the head of anything. I’m not sure how to do this whole manager thing.”

  “You’ll figure it out. Florence wouldn’t have given you the job if she didn’t think you deserved it.”

  “It’s the figuring-out part that has me worried. I just hope I don’t mess up too badly while I’m getting my feet under me.”

  “I’ll tell you something my father told me when I first started my construction company. He told me to think about how I wished my bosses had treated me when I was first starting out, and then to become that kind of boss myself.”

  “Huh.” Maggie thought about that. “I’ve definitely had my fair share of both good and bad managers, and I know which kind I’d rather be like.”

  “You’ve got this. I don’t doubt it.” He looked down at her food. “When you’re done, I’d like to introduce you to Griffin. He and I just went into business together.”

  “I sort of met him this morning when I came in.”

  “Yeah, but I want you to actually meet him.”

  Maggie wasn’t sure why it was important to him, but she supposed she could go along with it. “Your business partner, huh? Sounds very official.”

  “Yeah. It caught me a little off guard, but we’ve already got a great offer for some business in Vegas. We’ll be talking it over more tonight.”

  “Vegas. What is it about Vegas that automatically sounds cool and exciting?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out, I think.”

  The front door opened, and a tall, thin man with graying hair and glasses stepped inside. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was interrupting lunch.”

  “No worries. In fact, we have a ton—come eat with us.” Andrew walked over to the man and shook his hand. “I’m not sure everyone’s had a chance to meet you. Folks, this is Matt Kingston, the genealogist who’s been helping me piece together my family history as we’ve renovated the hotel.”

  Matt looked around at the group and smiled. “Hi. I really don’t mean to interrupt.”

  “That’s just crazy talk.” Tabs held out a sack. “Tuna melt, fries, and a Coke.”

  “Thanks, Tabs.” Matt took the sack and sat down on the floor next to Mack and Danny. “I love picnics.”

  Andrew laughed. “We’ll have the dining room ready to go in a couple of days, won’t we, Rob?”

  Rob swallowed his bite and nodded. “The varnish is dry, and tomorrow, we’ll be ready to move in the furniture.”

  “The tables and chairs Marissa found are beautiful,” Andrew added. “And a lot more comfortable than sitting out here on the floor.”

  “So, what brings you by, Matt?” Griffin asked.

  “I wish it was about you, Griffin, but nothing yet,” Matt replied. “I actually found a few more interesting things in the original Brody ledgers, and I thought we could scan those entries and put them in the glass cases in the parlor with the other artifacts.”

  “Why does Griffin need a genealogist?” Maggie whispered to Rob.

  “Matt’s helping him find his parents. He was left at a police station as a baby.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.” She paused. “But isn’t genealogy for dead people?”

  “Mostly, but Matt has resources to look for people who are still alive, too.”

  Maggie’s thoughts immediately flew to her parents. They’d given up custody of her and turned her over to Zoe’s parents to raise. That had been a step up . . . but not a huge one, as Zoe’s parents were hardly ever home and the girls basically raised themselves, for better or worse. Maggie had decided to forget all about her own parents and pretend like they didn’t exist, but that was a whole lot easier said than done, and she’d made that decision when she was sixteen in the middle of the hardest trial of her life. Now . . . things were different. If she had the chance to talk to her parents, would she take it?

  She honestly had no idea. She’d put that idea away and think about it later.

  She turned her attention back to her fries and to the conversation Matt and Andrew were having. She didn’t feel bad about listening in—they were talking loudly and seemed to be including everyone in the room.

  Matt was telling Andrew about a series of notations he’d found sprinkled here and there in the ledgers. “Adam Brody was very concise in his notes, so I didn’t find a lot of details, but he did track his money meticulously. Here and there, when he’d hire a new waitress, he’d write down a sum he gave her as a clothing allowance, which he would then deduct from her wages a little at a time over several months. Sometimes he’d only withhold a few pennies here and there. I believe he was trying to give these girls a leg-up in life as well as a job.”

  Maggie looked down at the clothes she was wearing. She’d had enough T-shirts in her suitcase, but she’d needed some new jeans, and those were possible because of Andrew Brody. “It must run in the family,” she muttered.

  “Hmm? What does?” Rob asked.

  “Just being generous,” Maggie replied. Rob already knew a little more than she wanted him to—she didn’t need to go into every thought that crossed her mind.

  “So, when are you meeting with the new applicants?”

  “What? Oh. Um, tomorrow morning.” Rob’s sudden change of subject had caught her off guard. Her brain had gone in a million different directions since they’d talked about that.

  “Do you want to do lunch tomorrow? I’d ask you out for tonight, but I’m meeting up with Griffin.”

  She turned, her attention now fully on him. “Let’s see. Lunch the day we met, lunch the day after we met, lunch today … you’re a very lunch-oriented person, aren’t you?”

  He grinned. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like lunch?”

  “I do. In fact, it’s one of my three favorite meals. But what if a day comes when I can’t eat with you? Will you be so in the habit that you can’t eat without me, and you’ll starve to death? Then I’d have that on my conscience forever.”

  “You didn’t have lunch with me yesterday, remember? You were out shopping. And I survived . . . well, I sort of survived. I missed you.”

  Her heart gave an extra thump. He’d just said what she’d been thinking earlier, but coming from him, it didn’t sound crazy or too soon to be feeling that way. It felt right, natural. And it was very hard to reply to something that carried so much weight with it.

  “You see? It’s starting already—you’re developing lunchtime dependence on me.”

  “I’m still not sure why that’s a bad thing.”

  She looked into his eyes, drawn there like a magnet, and swallowed. “I’m not so sure either.”

  “Then lunch tomorrow?”

  She nodded.

  “Great. And now I need to go finish some floor joists.” He gathered up his trash, wadded it up into a ball, and walked off, leaving Maggie to wonder why her toes suddenly felt numb.

  Tabs plopped down in the spot Rob had just left. “He’s a great guy,” she said, tipping her head Rob’s direction. “I’ve known him for a while, and he’s one of those people you can trust with anything.”

/>   “You’ve known him for a while?”

  “Yeah. He and his crew have done some of the projects I’ve worked on. I have to tell you, I’ve never even heard him tell an off-color joke—that’s how awesome he is. You’re in good hands with him.”

  Maggie turned and looked at Tabs. “We’re not really anything. Well, we’re something, but I don’t know what. But it’s not serious.”

  Tabs nudged her with an elbow like they were lifelong friends. Maggie wasn’t sure what to make of that instant familiarity, but she had the sense that it was impossible to be miffed with Tabs. “You’re definitely something, and as long as you are, just know—you’re in good hands.”

  “How do you know we’re something? And how do I know we’re something? What if we’re just . . . nothing?”

  Tabs laughed. “The chemistry zapping back and forth over here could have lit this staircase on fire.”

  “But we were just talking. We weren’t even flirting. Well, not really. Maybe there was a little flirting.”

  “You don’t have to be flirting for there to be chemistry. Sometimes you can even be fighting and have amazing chemistry.” Tabs nodded over to where Griffin was chatting with Matt. “He and I couldn’t say two civil words to each other a month ago.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  Tabs sighed. “A long, long story about pride and miscommunication. Trust me, opening up and allowing yourself to be vulnerable is much less painful than keeping everything bottled up. But enough about me—I just wanted to say hi again and meddle in your love life. I’ll leave you alone now.”

  She stood up and walked away, her words ringing in Maggie’s ears. Being vulnerable was less painful than holding everything inside . . . She’d said she was talking about herself, but it sure felt like every bit of it was meant for Maggie.

  ***

  Jimmy arrived an hour later and walked around the hotel property, inspecting the concrete curbs. He had a look of concentration on his face, and Rob wasn’t sure what he was thinking until he checked out the last flower bed and turned to Rob with a smile. “Good job!”