Vanessa wandered a few steps along a rack of summer dresses, trailing one manicured finger across the fabric in a way that made Maggie want to slap her hand off it.
"Well," Vanessa began, "I've left you three messages this week, and you haven't answered a single one. I was starting to feel quite ignored."
"I've been busy," Maggie answered. "It's the height of the season."
"So I see." Vanessa's eyes flicked around the boutique, pricing everything. "I wanted to talk to you about the wedding. The Christmas wedding. Now that the invitations are out, and we're starting to firm up the wedding party, and naturally, we'd love to have Toby there."
Maggie did not let her smile slip.
"That's kind of you," Maggie said. "But Toby and I already have plans for the holidays. We won't be able to attend as I already RSVP’d."
Vanessa's eyes flashed angrily for a second, but she just as quickly composed herself.
"Plans," Vanessa repeated. “I think you should reconsider your plans because Kevin needs to have Toby there on his big day.”
"I’m sorry, but you already have our reply," Maggie told her. "We always go away over Christmas. It's a tradition. Toby looks forward to it all year."
That was not strictly true, but Maggie would happily invent a tradition on the spot rather than send her grandson within a hundred miles of Kevin's wedding.
Vanessa's voice cooled by several degrees.
"Kevin will be very disappointed," Vanessa said. "He's been telling everyone how much he's looking forward to having his grandson there. It would look very strange for Toby not to come. People will ask questions."
There it was. Maggie kept her face pleasant and her tone level.
"I'm sure Kevin will manage just as well without Toby there," Maggie said. “I’m sure you’ll hardly notice his absence. Just like when he used to stay with Kevin for a weekend before.”
"I don't think you understand." Vanessa set her fake designer handbag down on the counter with a small, deliberate thump. "This matters to Kevin. A great deal. And if it comes to that, we can always have our attorney formally raise the question of Toby's attendance. Grandparents do have rights, you know."
A few months ago, that single sentence would have turned Maggie's stomach to ice. Today, it did nothing of the kind. Maggie thought of the file she had handed Michael across a café table that morning, every page labeled, tabbed, and dated. For the first time in two years, Maggie felt completely and gloriously unafraid.
"You're welcome to have your attorney raise whatever he likes," Maggie said pleasantly. "Kevin signed away every claim to Toby two years ago. He has no guardianship rights, no visitation rights, and no standing to demand anything regarding my grandson. Your attorney will tell you exactly that, the moment you ask him. So please, by all means, go ahead. It’s your money."
Vanessa's mouth opened, then closed.
"Well," Vanessa said finally. "Aren't you confident today?"
"I'm just being honest with you," Maggie answered. "It saves everyone time."
Vanessa recovered with the speed of a woman who had talked her way out of tighter corners. She turned away from the subject of Toby as though it had never come up and let her gaze drift toward the back of the boutique, toward the office door Maggie had just come through.
"I hear you're designing for someone very exciting," Vanessa said, her voice turning silky. "A little bird told me. Somebody quite famous. I'd love a peek."
"I'm afraid not," Maggie said.
"Oh, come on, Maggie. Who am I going to tell?" Vanessa feigned outrage. “My goodness, after everything we’ve been through together, you still don’t trust me.”
“Vanessa,” Maggie said, folding her arms. “While you’re… my soon-to-be ex-husband's girlfriend…”
“Fiancée,” Vanessa corrected her.
“Fiancée then,” Maggie added. “I don’t know where you’ve gotten the impression we’re friends.”
Her eyes widened in genuine shock for an instant, making Maggie’s brows rise.Did she really think they were anything like friends?
"Whatever!” Vanessa waved it off before pressing, “I just want a tiny look." She raised her chin. “Who knows? Maybe I could make some suggestions that will make your client happy. I hear she’s not that happy with what you designed initially.”
“I don’t know who your source is,” Maggie told her. “But you shouldn’t listen to them as they clearly don’t know what they are talking about. And I don’t discuss my clients with anyone. This is a high-end boutique, not a rip-off shop.”
