AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I bite my lip and sigh.
“Maybe I should consider claiming the money.”
“So?” Maeve passes me the maple syrup and stares at me with a bland expression.
“So, what?”
We like to get together a couple of times a month for brunch, just the two of us. One day, I go to her place, and the other day, she comes here to mine.
Rachel’s out of school today, so she came with her. I love spending time with my niece.
“So, are you going to a tropical island to get rich?” Rachel asks before popping a piece of pineapple into her mouth. Maeve stares at her. “What? I heard you telling Dad about it. I’m seventeen, not deaf.”
I can’t help but laugh at her. I take a bite of a pancake. “I don’t know. Part of me really doesn’t want to.”
“Look, I totally understand and agree with you not wanting to have anything to do with The Lemon.”
“Me, too,” Rachel adds. “He sounds like he was a huge jerk.”
“But that’s a lot of money, Mags. You need a new car, and you won’t let any of us help you with that.” Maeve continues. “You need a nest egg for a rainy day. There’s nothing wrong with collecting money that a man you were married to left for you, even if he was the asshole of the century.”
She’s not wrong. Not to mention, no one else knows that my hot water tank died on me, and I don’t have the fifteen hundred dollars to replace it.
I about swallowed my tongue when I got that estimate. And let me just say, taking cold showers isn’t a delight.
I need hot water.
I need a running vehicle.
And while the pub pays me enough to pay my bills, it’s not enough to get ahead. I know that Keegan would pay me more, but it’s not right. I thought for so long that Joey left me with nothing but embarrassment—and in a lurch.
Maybe this would be the one good thing to come out of that shitshow of a marriage.
“Earth to Maggie,” Maeve says, waving her fork in front of my face.
“Sorry. I’m thinking about going to collect the money.”
Her jaw drops. Rachel grins.
“There’s no use in me being a stubborn ass. Kane was not completely wrong when he said to not let the bank continue making money off what’s mine.”
“When are you going?” Maeve asks as Rachel carries her plate to the sink for a rinse.
“I’m not sure. I need to think about when I can get away, but probably sooner rather than later.”
“Why can’t I get any hot water?” Rachel asks, and I cringe.
“Don’t worry about it,” I reply. “You can set it in the sink, and I’ll take care of it later.”
“I think you should get that money as soon as possible,” Maeve says, a knowing look in her eyes. “Like, yesterday, Mary Margaret.”
“I just told you, I’d look into it. Don’t nag.”
A quick knock sounds on the door, and then Cameron walks in, stopping when he sees all of us in the kitchen.
“Am I interrupting?” he asks.
“Nah, it’s just breakfast,” Rachel replies. “Want a pancake?”
“If I can steal Maggie away, I don’t have time for a pancake.”
“Steal her,” Maeve says, waving us off. “I’ll put stuff away and lock up.”
“Are you sure?”
“I know how to lock up,” Maeve says. “Go, have fun.”
I grab my purse and keys and follow Cameron out to his Mustang.
“Where are we going?” I ask once we’re on the road.
“Seattle,” he replies and squeezes my hand. “To Leo Nash’s studio.”
I turn in my seat and stare at him. “What?”
“Just trust me.” He pulls my hand up to his lips. “Don’t worry.”
“You want me to sing with you?”
I look up from the music in my hands and stare at Leo in surprise.
“I do, yes. I’ve heard you sing, Maggie, and I think your voice would sound great on that song. You’d be helping me out.”
I bust up in laughter. “Right.” I can’t stop laughing. “I’d be helping you out.”
Tears form in the corners of my eyes, and I wipe them away.
“I want you on the song,” Leo says and shrugs his shoulders, showing off his ridiculously impressive, tattooed arms.
It’s no wonder Izzy has a huge crush on him. Leo Nash is an incredible specimen of a man.
“When are we doing this?”
“Right now,” Leo replies. “We’re ready for you in the studio.”
“Now?”
“We’re here,” Cam adds. “And we have time.”
Suddenly nervous, I rub my hands on my jeans and then stand and square my shoulders.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
“Right on,” Leo says and wraps an arm around my shoulders as he leads me down a hallway to a recording booth.
It’s bigger than I expected, with a soundboard behind a big, plexiglass window. The studio has microphones and instruments, and Leo’s band is already in their places.
“This is a live recording?” I ask in surprise.
