Michael grabbed her arm warningly. “Yes, well, I’m sure Maggie is looking forward to seeing what you come up with.”
Maggie stood very still for a moment, letting her anger settle. She’d nearly blown the whole charade.
After another painful, gushy goodbye from Vanessa and a look of dollar signs mirrored in Kevin’s greedy eyes, the couple finally disappeared.
Michael and Maggie walked back into the design room. The tissue paper she had carefully laid over the decoy sketch when Kevin and Vanessa had first walked in lay neatly to the side now, folded back. The decoy sketch had been moved a full inch to the right. A small smudge of someone's fingerprint sat in the lower corner where a person leaning over the page had pressed to keep their balance.
Maggie smiled slowly.
"Trap baited," Maggie murmured. "Now let’s see if we hooked them so we can reel them in."
"Maggie Sullivan," Michael said softly. "You magnificent schemer. I forgot just how incredibly good you are at plotting."
“Well, I’m a little rusty,” Maggie admitted. “It’s a long time since I’ve had to use my scheming powers.” She grinned as memories of how she’d always been the one who got them out of trouble or got them revenge when they were kids crossed her mind.
"You are terrifying, Maggie," Michael told her. "I’m so glad I’ve never angered you."
“Good to remember that too,” Maggie warned him with a smug smile. “Because I remember we still have a challenge open.”
“That we do,” Michael confirmed with a soft laugh that made her heart stutter and her toes curl as a warm feeling spread through her stomach.
“Well, as I owe you for your fine performance today,” Maggie told him. “And while we wait to see if our fish swallowed the bait, why don’t I take you out to lunch?”
“Absolutely,” Michael accepted her invitation. “I’m starving.”
“Let’s go,” Maggie said with a smile, her breath hitched at their flirtatious banter and the memory of their soft kiss the previous evening.
They walked to the Bay Café and slid into a booth. After the server left, Maggie leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to just tell me what happened to Salty, or are you really going to make me have to ambush you with some scheme to get it out of you?”
“Having been on the other side of a few of your schemes, Maggie,” Michael leaned in, his face inches from her. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with.” He leanedcloser, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “But know this, you will never get me to betray my uncle and tell you how Salty disappeared in that hat.”
Her eyes locked with his, his breathing became shallow, and her throat went dry as his eyes darkened to an intensity that made the butterflies in her stomach go wild. But right before their lips met, their server arrived with their drinks, breaking the moment.
Maggie leaned back in her seat, glad she was sitting down because her knees felt like jelly, her heart was pounding in her chest, and the one thing she knew for certain was that she hadn’t felt this alive and light in two years.
MICHAEL
Michael held the door of the Bay Café open for Maggie and followed her out into the late afternoon sun. They had just finished lunch.
The walk from the café to Maggie’s boutique was not far. It was the building beside the small mall that housed the Bay Café. Michael was not in any hurry. If he was being honest with himself, he was trying to find whatever excuse he could to prolong the time with Maggie.
"Michael," Maggie said gently, three steps along the path.
"Mm?" Michael answered.
"You’ve got something on your cheeks,” Maggie told him with a sweet smile.
"What?" Michael asked, lifting a hand toward his own face.
“It looks like a fire engine red lipstick to me,” Maggie told him innocently.
Michael stopped walking. He turned to face her. And then glanced in the window behind her.
"Maggie," Michael said slowly, "how long has it been there?"
"Mm," Maggie hummed, tilting her head. "From when Vanessa kissed you hello."
"What?” Michael spluttered. “Do you mean I met…” He didn’t say the name of the celebrity, as Maggie was touchy about that. “I met my favorite actress with lip marks on my cheeks.”
