“Hey, now! Sorry I know what I like,” I bantered.
“Do you want ice in it?” he asked, still not confident enough to place the order with the bartender.
“Oh, yes. Sorry. Just whiskey, grenadine, and ice, please! Thank you.”
“Maggie, do you need a refill?” he asked.
“No, I’m good,” she said, holding her half-full glass up.
Stetson took a seat on the barstool to the left of Booker and Maggie. Maggie hopped up from where she’d been nestled, encouraging Booker to join Stetson and then propped her back up to the bar, using it as a backrest.
“So, when you are you gonna fill me in about this?” she interrogated, her eyes darting up and down Stetson’s body.
My eyes widened and with little control, my words escaped quietly. “I know why Stetson is really here.”
“What? Why?” She stepped closer to me.
“You know his best friend that I told you about, the one who died in a car accident?”
She nodded.
“Well, he had a daughter, one that Stetson had shared was the inspiration behind the new album.”
“Okay…” Her voice lingered, like she knew the other shoe was about to drop. “But I’m not following why that would bring him to Quincey Falls.”
“She was adopted,” I whispered, making sure no one else could hear me. “He’s looking for her parents.”
“Oh. Holy shit,” Maggie practically croaked. “Shit, Scarlett. Did you tell him?”
“About me? Hell no. I couldn’t,” I admitted. “I mean, I can’t. At least not right now.”
“That’s fair,” she said, giving me a little comfort knowing she agreed. “Honestly, Scar, you don’t have to tell him at all if you don’t want to. You’re writing an article about him; it’s not like you’re going to marry the guy.” Her sarcasm forced a laugh out of her mouth, until she realized what she’d said. “Shit, I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s okay, I know what you meant,” I interrupted. “But that’s just the thing. The more I learn about the man, the more I want to keep learning.” My honesty was refreshing but also a little alarming. I threw my hand over my mouth.
“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see the chemistry between the two of you.” She slipped her drink to her lips, taking a long swig. “Don’t let the thought of your past interfere with the present, not now, not until you figure out whatever the hell this is.” She waved her hand back and forth between Stetson’s back and me. “Let this be a future Scarlett problem, at least for a little while longer. Deal?”
I desperately wanted to, so I’d try, both for Maggie and myself.
“Deal,” I agreed, lifting my glass to my mouth and allowing the last bit of liquid to seal the deal I’d just made. The sting of whiskey at the back of my throat snaked through my entire body. “Whew,” I blew out.
My head lifted back up as Maggie’s eyes shot past me toward a burst of whoops and hollers that emerged from the front door. Both Stetson and Booker swiveled their barstools around to glance too, but the bartender demanded their attention back.
In a matter of seconds, Maggie had ripped the drink from her lips; a look of absolute panic filling her expression. “Oh shit.” Maggie’s tone was a stark contrast to the one she’d greeted us with. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What?” I asked, tracing her gaze to the front door.
If only I’d known what I was going to see, I never would’ve looked.
Chapter Twenty-Two
What the fuck was Zane doing here?
Everything around me went blurry, like I’d forgotten to put my contacts in for the day.
The air felt less readily available than it had previously. I couldn’t fully process what my eyeballs were seeing, but I didn’t need to see it to know it was imperative that I turn back around.
My gaze connected with Maggie’s anguish-filled eyes as she waited for my reaction.
