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“I might.”
“I have something for my aunt,” she said. “If you’ll wait here for a second.”
She didn’t want to give him a tour of the house with her unmade bed and folded clothes on top of the dryer. In the closet, she’d discovered a box of letters. On second thought, maybe Randy wasn’t the best choice to take personal letters to Aunt Elizabeth. Instead, she grabbed her aunt’s sunhat.
“Please give her this. It’s a memory of Bayou Cottage. I remember her wearing it when we went into town together.”
“I will. Best wishes, Maggie.”
Ignoring his burning adoration, she fussed with the dog cage.
“I’ll open the gate for you,” she said, setting Brulee back inside the crate and closing the door tightly. No escapes. And then she ran down to the gate, getting the lock open long before he arrived in his car.
“So long!” He waved and drove through the opening, giving her one last glance of futility. As usual, he’d hinted around with Maggie Angel, and she wasn’t taking the hint.
She quickly closed and locked the gate before anyone else appeared. She hadn’t had this much company in six months back where she came from. Fighting even thoughts of the process that had brought her here to Cypress Cove, a little longing for Jacksonville, which had been her home since college, lingered.
The first time she’d visited it after getting hired at the international design firm owned by Russ, the town was a good fit, the history, its perfect location. She bought her own home, and even after the engagement to Russ, she maintained her private residence, something in her warning not to get dependent on him, that he was fleeting.
Russ and her former best friend, Claudia, had ruined Jacksonville for her, forever.
In her office with blueprints and spreadsheets, Maggie had focused on the task at hand. She loved the job with its spacious design offices and friendly colleagues. It only took a week before Russ gave her the rush. Nights out that started in a limousine and often included expensive meals, dancing, and private tours of her favorite retail stores, where she could choose whatever she wanted and it would arrive at her townhouse the next day.
“I need to come over to see this loot,” Claudia said the following Thursday.
“Let’s plan for next weekend. It’s a five-hour drive. Come Friday after work and stay.”
“What about tomorrow? I don’t want to wait. It sounds like you hit the jackpot.”
“Ha! It’s not all that. And I have a date with Russ tomorrow,” Maggie said, feeling a little anxious. It wasn’t always easy for her to hold her ground with Claudia, who had a commanding presence. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to leave you alone all weekend.”
“I’m a big girl. I can find something to do in a fun town.”
Rather than just saying no to her, Maggie would pay the price when Claudia didn’t take the hint. Against Maggie’s wishes, she left work early on Friday and got on a plane, supposedly making the trip from Pensacola just to ogle the gifts. Or so was the excuse. She really wanted to see Russ and Maggie in action.
Arriving before Maggie, she waited at the townhouse, her suitcase at her feet. When Maggie pulled up into the garage, she was surprised and excited to see her friend, if not a little annoyed. She calmed herself down, there was nothing to be done about it now.
Maggie’s statuesque, raven-haired, exotic loveliness to Claudia’s blonde, petite beach-body beauty was like trying to compare apples and oranges. When they were together, heads turned. This particular afternoon, Claudia wore skintight white capris that left nothing to the imagination, and an off-the-shoulder top showing plenty of plushy cleavage.
The front door opened.
“You came!” She tried to act pleased with a forced smile.
“I told you I was going to,” she said. “You can’t keep this gorgeous and generous guy away from me.”
The hair on the back of Maggie’s neck went up. “I thought you came to see me and the gifts.”
“Of course. That too,” she said, busying herself with getting her suitcase inside. “Wow, you did more work. The place looks great.”
Looking around her townhouse, Maggie was proud of it for sure.
“Can you drag that thing upstairs? You can stay in the guest room up there.”
“I’ll stay down here in the den.”
“No, I insist, up you go to the guest room.”
Claudia was messy, and in the past when she’d stayed with Maggie, her mess migrated out of the den that she had insisted on sleeping in, and Maggie wasn’t having it this time.
