“Thanks. Just take a look and tell me what you think. We can talk about it this weekend.”
Jack could hear the sound of shuffling papers and ringing telephones. Paige’s voice rose again, stress stringing it out in the upper octaves.
“I’ll let you go, then,” he said. “See you tonight.”
“I love you.”
The words startled him. He and Paige didn’t throw them around casually, not like other couples he knew who said hello and goodbye and what’s-for-dinner-babe-I-love-you every day. No, he and Paige had decided in a rational conversation years ago that those words were better left reserved for the bedroom. Or for New Year’s Eve or the occasional airport farewell. No need to use them everyday so that they lost all meaning. Trouble was, Jack found, that if you never said them at all, they became rusty from disuse.
“Love you too,” he mumbled into the receiver, feeling uncomfortable and wondering why.
Emails forgotten, meetings pushed to the back of his mind, Jack stared at a space above his door. Beyond the crown molding that framed the ceiling, he saw instead himself, at twenty-one years old. Without knowing where the memory came from, and without caring where it might lead, he let himself follow it.
Jack crossed campus with Stefan and a couple other guys from the fraternity. Past the groups of girls settled on the grass, pretending to study. Past the academic buildings and the library. Past Washington Square and the traffic that zoomed by. Late April sun beat down, unusual for early spring in New York, but Jack welcomed its heat on the back of his neck.
Coming in?
Stefan asked.
In a few minutes
. He jabbed a thumb to the left, past his dorm, toward hers.
Oh, yeah.
His friend grinned.
See you in an hour or two. And tell her I said hi.
Jack flipped his best friend the bird and broke into a jog. Football could wait. A beer with his buddies could wait. Studying—hell, that could wait all weekend. Now, he only wanted to see his girl. His love. The one he planned to propose to, someday. And no one knew, not even Stefan. Jack had just woken up one morning last week and known with a capital K that she was the one he wanted to wake up with every day after that. Up two flights of stairs, a turn to the right and there he stood, outside her door. It was covered with tinsel decorations left over from Christmas and a picture of the two of them, half-shadowed and happy and wound around each other. He raised his hand to knock, and—
“Sir?” Suzie’s voice pulled Jack back from the past. “The fax from Paige just arrived.”
Jack turned too fast and his hand smacked against the arm of his chair. “Ow! Dammit!” He cursed a few more times for good measure, though he wasn’t sure if the pain in his wrist or the memory hurt more.
“Thanks, Suzie. I’ll be right out.”
Silly,
he told himself. He shook his head and chased away the picture inside his mind.
It’s been ten damn years. It was a college romance, for God’s sake, the sort of thing you outgrow and dismiss when it doesn’t work out. Forget about it. About her. Don’t go running after ghosts and stirring up trouble.
Jack forced himself to listen to Suzie. To flip through pages of price quotes. To think about bouquets and invitations and wedding bands. And to remind himself about the man he was now and not the one that he had been, a child really, all those years ago.
3:00 p.m.
Maggie had changed her shoes, brushed her teeth, and was halfway out the door when Neve called her back.
“It’s Eden again.”
Maggie stopped in the hallway, not knowing whether that was good news or bad. She tucked the receiver under her chin and tried to stop the trembling in her fingers. “That was fast. Did you find him?”
“Not exactly.”
Her shoulders sagged. The bubble of hope jumping around inside her drooped a little, and she plopped onto the antique bench beside the front door. Maggie studied her fingernails. She didn’t realize how much she’d been counting on her friend to perform a miracle.
“But I did get a lead,” Eden went on.
“And?”
“He’ll be at the Deveau Ball tonight. I called a friend and asked her to check the guest list. You know, just in case he was a big enough deal to get invited.” She cleared her throat. “He is. Mags, he’s worth a lot of money. Really. If that’s what you need, I don’t think you’re gonna have any problem.”
The what? A ball?
Maggie shook her head. “I’d rather just try his office. Less complicated. Less public.” She stood up again. “I’ll call every hour until he answers. I’ll come up there and wait on his doorstep, even.”
Eden clucked her tongue. “Come on, Mags. How practical is that?”
“Well, what the hell is this ball you’re talking about?”
“The Deveau Ball? Girl, don’t you ever read the papers? It’s a big charity event that goes on every June. All the biggest names around the city show up, donate gobs of money to charity, and get smashing drunk. Or dance on top of tables in their bare feet. Or go home with someone they’ve just met. It’s usually a great time.”
“You’ve gone before?” As if Maggie had to ask.
“Last two years. Our firm gets some tickets.” Eden paused. “So what do you say? You go to the ball, you’re practically guaranteed to run into him. I can get you an extra ticket.”
Maggie scrunched up her shoulders. A ball?
No way
. She had no desire to face down her stepbrother in front of hundreds of Boston’s elite. “There’s got to be another way. Somewhere else I can find him. What about his home address? Can’t you find out where he lives?” She heard her voice turn scratchy with panic.
I sound like a stalker.
Still, she couldn’t help herself. She needed to see Dillon
now
, she needed to talk to him
now
, not later tonight at a stupid charity event. She couldn’t wait that long.
“Mags, give it some thought. You can still come up here this afternoon, and I’ll still see if I can find a number where you can reach him. Maybe you will catch him at his office. I mean, it’s pouring here right now, so I’m pretty sure he’s not out planting hedges somewhere.” She laughed a little. “But just in case…”
Maggie traced the pattern of her hallway’s faux marble tiles with a toe. A ball? The biggest names around the city? Confronting her stepbrother in front of them all? She couldn’t imagine the horror of such a scene. It sounded like a warped Cinderella story, fleeing straight to the palace to save herself instead of running like hell in the opposite direction. Glass slippers, fairy godmothers, a gorgeous gown…she didn’t have any of the right props. She didn’t even have a Prince Charming.
Still, she closed her eyes and tried to picture it: her in a dress of some sort. Dillon in a tux. An enormous room. Lights, music, pretentious guests. Ten years of awkward memories between them, casting shadows on the night as she tried to borrow enough money to save her business and her sanity.
But what happens when the clock strikes twelve in this scenario?
“Just think about it,” Eden said. “I still think it’s your best shot.”
Maggie took a long breath. She didn’t have much choice, did she? She barely had twenty hours before the bank filed the first foreclosure papers. The way it looked, Prince Charming wasn’t going to ride up on his white horse and whip out a checkbook anytime soon. What else did she have to lose?
“Okay, fine,” she said, envisioning the storm ahead and deciding to march into it all the same. “I’ll do it. I’ll go to the damn ball. Just tell me where and when.”
*
Neve jumped as Maggie rushed back into the office, muttering and jangling her keys. She thought she heard something about dresses and shoes. That couldn’t be right. “What’s going on? What did Eden say?”
Maggie slowed down long enough to fish a rubber band out of a desk drawer and wind it around her curls. “The Deveau Ball. Up in Boston. Ever heard of it?”
Neve shook her head. She’d never even been out of Rhode Island.
“Apparently it’s some big charity event that happens every summer. It’s tonight. And I’m going to it.”
Neve sat back in her chair and tried to process. That look in her boss’s eyes, the manic one that meant Maggie was ready to fling herself over the edge of sanity, scared her a little. She’d seen it only a couple of times before, right as Maggie launched herself into a no-sleep, work-for-days frenzy. Neve swept her bangs to one side. With all the loose ends here in Hart’s Falls, why would Maggie be going to Boston for an evening of fun?
“Um…can I ask why?”
Maggie stopped in the middle of the room as if she’d forgotten where she was. “Why what?”
“Did you say you’re going to a ball tonight? In Boston?”
Maggie nodded, eyes already focused on something else. “Dillon is going to be there.”
Dillon
. That name again. Neve pretended that she hadn’t heard Maggie repeating it through closed doors the last couple of days.
Dillon who
? He wasn’t a client or a bill collector, as far as she knew. And she remembered names better than anyone. A relative? An old boyfriend? Neve couldn’t begin to guess. She only knew that Maggie seemed to be tying every last hope to the guy. “Is he someone who can help you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Maggie sank onto the arm of the loveseat. “Dillon is my stepbrother.” The ragged edge of adrenaline in her voice faded. Her spine curved. One flip-flop dangled from her toes, nails painted midnight blue.
“I didn’t know you had any other family besides your mom.” Neve settled her chin into one palm. This was news.
“Dillon’s not family, not really. His dad married my mom when I was seven. He was nine. We got along well enough when we were kids.” Maggie tugged on a loose curl and tried to smooth it into her crooked ponytail. Sadness slunk across her face, looking for a crevice in which to stick. “Not so much after high school, though. You know how it is. Things happen. People grow apart. I haven’t talked to him in a long time. Six years, probably.”
“Wow. Do you miss him?”
Maggie focused her gaze on Neve for the first time since she’d started talking about him. She frowned as if the question didn’t make any sense.
“My mom mentioned a while back that he’d started a business. I went to see her today to find out if it was true.”
“Is it?”
The list of landscapers
, Neve thought.
Maggie nodded. “I guess he’s doing well, according to Eden. Got himself on the guest list for this fancy ball, so that’s where I’m headed.”
Relief found a home inside Neve’s heart. “You think he’ll loan you the money? You’ll be able to pay the bank and keep the house?”
“That’s what I’m hoping. I don’t have any more time, so this is my last chance. I promised the bank I’d have the money by tomorrow.”
Neve squirmed in her chair, and the broken springs hitched a little under her weight. “But what happens if your brother can’t get you the money by then?”
“Stepbrother,” Maggie corrected. “Well, if I can’t find him, or if he won’t loan me the money, then I’ll call that software company and see what they’ll give me for the house. The bank is going to start foreclosure on Monday anyway. It’s not like I have anything more to lose.”
“Oh.” Neve didn’t know what to think. “So where’s the ball?”
“Um…I have no idea. Some hotel downtown, I think. Eden’s getting me a ticket.”
“What are you going to wear?”
Maggie rubbed her nose. “God, I don’t know.” She frowned, as if she hadn’t thought past the next few minutes. “I’ll borrow something from Eden, I guess.” The light went out of her eyes. “What the hell am I doing? What am I thinking?” She buried her face in her hands. “There’s no way this is going to work. The whole thing is a stupid idea.”
Neve rose and went to Maggie, patting her on the back. “Stop it. Of course it’s going to work. Eden said he’s on the guest list, right? So I’m sure he’ll be there. And when he sees you, he’ll probably be so surprised and happy that he’ll want to loan you the money before you even finish asking.”
She made her voice strong so Maggie had no choice but to listen. Comforting, organizing, directing people from their sadness back into the practical tasks of living, was what Neve did best. She’d managed this office since the day after she graduated from high school. She had no intention of letting it, or its owner, fall apart now. One hand crept to her abdomen.
Maggie sniffled and raised her head. “You think?”
“It’s better than sitting here hoping that the trees in the front yard are going to start growing money, right?”
“God, I knew there was a reason I hired you. I’d have lost my sanity three years ago if it weren’t for you.” She stood up, clinging to one of Neve’s hands. “Come with me.”
“What?”
“Tonight, to the ball. I’m sure Eden can get an extra ticket.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.” The words caught in Neve’s throat. She waved her hands and pointed to the desk, the phone, the calendar on the wall. “Someone has to stay here.”
“Why? We’ll close up early. If this whole crazy idea doesn’t work out, next week we won’t even have a business to worry about. No reason to sit here until five o’clock.” Maggie’s voice broke. “Please. I need someone with me. I can’t do this by myself.”
“What about Eden?”
“She doesn’t know what’s going on with the business. And I don’t want to tell her all the awful details. I just want to find Dillon, have him write me a check, and leave.” She clasped her hands below her chin, like a child begging to stay up ten more minutes. “Please, Neve. Say you’ll go. I need someone on my side.”
“I…well, I’m not sure I have anything to wear.”
“Neither do I.” Maggie glanced at her watch. “Shoot. Maybe I should get something here in town, before we go. Is Bev’s open today? She owes me a favor after that redesign I did last summer. Told me to call her if I was ever in a pinch.” She tried to grin, but it slipped off her face. “Guess this would be a pinch, huh? Do you want me to pick up something for you?”
Neve shook her head. She couldn’t afford such a favor. “I probably have an old bridesmaid’s dress at home. I could check.”
The color came back into Maggie’s face. “Does that mean you’ll go?”
Neve nodded, tickled about the prospect of a road trip, even if it was for such a serious reason. “I’ll go.”
“Then I’ll run over to Bev’s right now.” Maggie looked at her watch again, and her lips moved as if she were counting seconds and forming a plan. “I’ll have to call Eden back, let her know what we’re doing. Why don’t you head home, find something to wear, and meet me back here? If we leave by four-thirty, we should make it up to Boston before six.”
“Okay.” Neve patted her hands together in excitement. She couldn’t wait to go home and look through her closet. She knew she shouldn’t be happy, shouldn’t be celebrating Maggie’s dilemma, but she couldn’t help it. A fancy ball and a night out in the big city — wait until she told Andrew!
“I’ll see you later,” she said, but Maggie was already out the door.
*
Normally, Maggie could reach the other side of Hart’s Falls in under ten minutes, but with the rain pouring down, it took her double that. She turned her wipers to high and did her best to avoid the water streaming from the ditches and puddling in the low spots. She wondered if the storm would let up before evening. The clouds overhead, heavy and ominous, didn’t promise much. Her mood turned blacker.
What am I doing? Am I really going to some ball on the off chance I might run into Dillon? And on the off chance he might actually agree to loan me almost sixteen thousand dollars?
Tears welled in her eyes. Apparently that’s exactly what she was doing, because she’d run out of options. She’d lied to the bank. She’d stopped paying her loyal employee. She’d even begged Elmhurst House for an extension on her mother’s monthly rent. It might be crazy, but the Deveau Ball was Maggie’s last chance to save her home and her business.
As she approached the town’s main intersection, the lights of Hart’s Falls Medical Center pierced the gray afternoon. She slowed as an ambulance careened into its parking lot. Two nurses ran out into the rain. The building, only a few years old, boasted some of the most up-to-date facilities in the state. It had even recruited top doctors from hospitals up in Boston. But Maggie had never set foot inside, with the exception of one visit with her mother last fall, and she had no intention of ever returning on her own. Even the flu that kept her bedridden for nearly a month last winter, even the ten pounds she lost and the blood she threw up, couldn’t convince her to visit a doctor.
Hospitals, doctors, nurses—they only meant one thing to Maggie. Sam. That night. And all that happened after.