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“Let’s deal with it tomorrow. Shirley called and wants us at the party tonight.”
“I’m not going. I’ve got too much to do.” An island party was the last place he wanted to be.
Justyn stood and slapped him on the back. “Of course you’re going. Maggie’s going to be there. Work can wait until daylight.”
Reid shuffled the Potter file to the back of the stack. That one was a lost cause. “No, cuz. I don’t have time for that shit tonight.” He turned to face Justyn. “And since when are you big on hanging out at Shirley Lane? I thought you hated it.”
Justyn shuffled his feet, kicking up sawdust on the floor. “You know, thought I’d see Blair. See what she’s up to tonight.”
Reid knew Maggie would be at the party, and of course, she would be waiting to see him. After the night at the lighthouse, he would expect that. It was a moment he’d replayed in his head, but not tonight. He had let things slip too far, and it was starting to crash down around him. Sure, she was cute, but cute didn’t pay the bills or bring in cash flow.
“You are going to Shirley Lane tonight.” Justyn spoke sternly. “You owe me for all of those damn cruises.”
“I can’t make it.” He shook his head.
Justyn grabbed the files from his hand and slammed them on the desk. “One hour. You owe me one hour. Then you can cut bait and get out of there. Deal?”
Reid knew he had him there. He had dragged Justyn on cruises with the girls for the past couple weeks because he wanted to spend more time with Maggie. Suddenly, he realized what a mistake that had been. Why had he been trying to convince Justyn all summer to have fun with what they should have been doing was buckling down and focusing on the boats?
“I’ll give you one hour, but if they aren’t there, I’m not sticking around. You’re on your own with Blair.”
“Got it. Now go get your pretty clothes on. We have a party to get to.” Justyn winked.
Four
Maggie
The sun was setting behind them, and the party crowd on Shirley Lane was already in full swing by the time Maggie and Blair pulled into their hostess’s driveway. Blair had switched outfits four times before settling on the original yellow and white choice.
“Ready?” Maggie looked to Blair, who was applying lip gloss and practicing a pout.
“I don’t know why I even bother,” Maggie said, adjusting her curls. “I worked for hours on the hair, and one blast of this island humidity blows it all to hell.”
“You look great,” Blair said, eyeing her, who, as promised, sported a green sundress dotted with tiny flowers. “Very unkempt but sexy. Like you’ve been making out on top of a lighthouse. We’ll call it beach sexy.”
Maggie playfully pushed her friend. “You are never going to let me forget that are you? Come on. We have part two with the boys to finish tonight.”
She hopped out of the car and headed around the side of the house toward the back porch, following the sound of Sixty Minute Man blaring through the night air.
“Oh, they’re shagging,” Maggie said, recognizing one of her favorite beach music songs. “I want to dance.”
“Right here, darlin’. At your service,” Henry said, grabbing Maggie by the waist and spinning her out onto the makeshift dance floor in front of the porch.
Maggie giggled and shot a please-rescue-me look at her friend. Shirley’s husband seemed to be a fun-loving man who reminded Maggie of a sweet and quirky grandfather. However, she wasn’t sure if dancing was one of this islander’s talents. He was all over the place, almost clobbering Maggie’s left foot as he twirled and then dipped her.
Blair giggled and shrugged her shoulders, giving Maggie a you-asked-for-it look before turning toward the house.
“I’m going inside to look for some drinks,” Blair called. “Y’all have fun. See you later, G.”
Five
Maggie
Maggie had definitely worked up a sweat, if not a thirst, dancing for the last thirty minutes with Henry. The first rule of dancing on Shirley Lane is you never do it without a drink in your hand. As the final notes of Carolina Girls drifted away, Henry dashed to the bar to fetch Maggie a beverage and returned with a plastic wineglass full of her favorite pinot. These island men sure were thoughtful, she decided, taking her first sip. Maggie’s glass was never more than half-empty again as Henry or JoBeth’s husband, Willis, dashed to the bar between songs for refills.
Almost seven songs later, Maggie needed a break from her aching feet and buzzing head. In addition, she’d been meaning to talk to Reid and hadn’t had the chance. She thought she’d spied him standing on the edge of the dance floor, leaning against the porch columns. He might have been looking at her a couple times, but she wasn’t sure as Henry swirled and twirled at a rapid pace.
“Thanks for the great dancing,” Maggie said as she stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed Henry on the cheek. She turned toward the house.
