Goodnight Maggie. I hope you’ll sleep better tonight knowing that I’ve got you. We’re going to get that divorce through once and for all.
Maggie stared at the screen.
The butterflies in her stomach, which she'd been fighting down all evening, lifted all at once and went completely wild.
Goodnight, Michael,she typed back.I’d say sweet dreams, but I know the pressure you’re under right now. But I do hope you get some sleep.
Again, Maggie watched the dots, her heart going crazy as she waited for his reply.
I’m going to have a great sleep tonight. It might have been a hectic day, but it seems to have ended rather pleasantly. Night Maggie. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Maggie sat staring at her screen. That statement could mean a thousand things, but she had a feeling she knew exactly what it meant. When she finished the last of her wine. She rinsed the glass and left it on the draining board. She checked the door, turned off the lights, and went down the hall to her room. As she climbed into bed she knew that her dreams were going to be filled with images of Michael.
MICHAEL
Michael had been at Uncle George's desk since half past six, and he had read the same paragraph of the third mortgage agreement four times without taking in a single word.
He set the page down, sighing resignedly, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
It was no good. His mind was not on the mortgage at all. Instead, it kept drifting back to the incident in the corridor with Maggie yesterday evening. He could still clearly picture it. The impact. The laundry basket flying through the air. Maggie’s startled little gasp right before she landed in his arms, pulled tightly against his chest. So tight he could feel her heart pounding against his.
And the most absurd part was that even eighteen hours later, his arms still tingled with the memory of holding her. His breath still caught when he remembered the way her wide, startled eyes had looked up at him.
Michael let out a long, ragged breath and rubbed a hand over his face.
“You are sixty years old, not a teenage boy,” he muttered through gritted teeth to the empty office. “This is ridiculous.”
Yet even as he said the words, a different memory slipped through anyway. The flash of a bonfire on a warm summer’s night came back to him, along with the distant sound of music and the gentle rhythm of the sea washing onto the shore.
Michael shut the thought down hard as the guilt quietly seeped in, the way it always did. He had loved Evelyn deeply and wholeheartedly for nearly thirty years. She’d been his best friend, his partner, the woman who had stood beside him through every challenge life had thrown at them. Losing her three years ago to a sudden heart attack had left a hole in his heart and in his life that nothing had been able to fill. Three years did not seem long enough to have moved on from a lifetime shared with someone. And yet here he was. One silly accidental meeting had reminded him, in no uncertain emotional terms, of the crush he’d had when he was a teenager. A crush he’d brutally shut down for very good reasons.
Michael glanced at his wristwatch. Seven thirty-five. He still had an hour and fifty-five minutes before breakfast with Maggie at the Bay Café. Plenty of time, he told himself, to push everything personal aside and focus on what mattered. He was an attorney, after all. For more than thirty years, he’d moved easily between family law, high-stakes corporate litigation, and even the occasional complex criminal case. He had built a reputation as a man who could walk into any boardroom and handle hostile takeovers with calm precision. He knew how to separate feelings from facts.
Yet this morning, the wall he had kept so carefully in place for decades felt dangerously thin.
Michael picked up the mortgage agreement again and tried to force himself to read. He managed three full sentences before his mind drifted back to Maggie’s wide eyes looking up at him in the hallway. With a quiet sigh of frustration, he set the page down and vigorously rubbed his hands over his face.
“This is ridiculous,” he gritted out, giving up.
He stood and grabbed his keys. If he could not concentrate, then he would have a leisurely drive around the bay and then stroll through the small Sweet Blossom Bay Mall. He needed some new ties and socks. That would be a better use of his time than trying to get yesterday’s collision with Maggie out of his mind.
After lingering in the stores for as long as he could, Michael arrived at the Bay Café fifteen minutes early.
The Bay Café had been a part of Sweet Blossom Bay for as long as he could remember. The last owner was retiring and had no children to pass it down to, so he had no other choice but to sell it. Owen had bought it just before the summer, and it was clear the man loved it. It was obvious by the way he’d upgraded the cafe while keeping its authentic Sweet Blossom Bay charm.
The morning light came in warm through the big front windows. The tables were old reclaimed wood, sanded smooth. There was a chalkboard behind the counter with the day's specials written in neat handwriting, and the whole place smelled of fresh coffee, warm pastry, and the sea air drifting in through the propped-open front door.
Michael chose a table in the back corner, by the window, where they'd have a little privacy. He ordered a coffee to settle himself and tried to look like a man who was not watching the door. Only he was watching the door.
At twenty-eight minutes past nine, Maggie walked in, and Michael's heart did the exact thing he'd spent all morning telling it not to do—it gave a jolt and woke up the images he’d just managed to suppress. He forced all thoughts from his head as he watched her, almost entranced.
Maggie had a thick file folder tucked under her arm. She wore a soft blue cotton shirt, her hair loosely flowing around her shoulders. The darker blue tailored pants with a gold clasp at the waist encased her long legs, which flowed around her matching blue stiletto pumps. The manager greeted her at the door, and a smile bloomed over her lips as she turned to scan the room, finding Michael and giving him a wave. The manager turned to look where she was waving, nodded, and led her toward him. As she walked his way Michael swallowed, and for one helpless second Michael was eighteen again, staring at the girl he’d thought was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
It was in that moment that Michael knew there were a lot more reasons for coming home that he cared to admit. He’d always had feelings for Maggie that he’d portrayed as protective, big brotherly feelings for his sister’s life-long best friend. But they were a lot more than that, and he'd buried them deep because she was practically family and his younger sister’s, Linda’s, best friend. Not to mention the huge complication of her being taken in by his mother when Maggie had lost both her parents. There was never a future for them, and Michael had to remind himself that while they were a lot older, nothing else had changed. Maggie was still his sister’s best friend and part of the Heart’s extended family.
He automatically pushed himself to his feet as she neared the table, a smile warming his eyes as she stopped in front of him. The manager put two menus on the table and told them theirserver would be with them soon, but Michael didn’t even hear him. His eyes were locked onto Maggie's.
"Hello, Maggie," Michael greeted her warmly.
