Chapter 4 #3
I didn’t know if she was an assistant or family member or executive, but I knew I appreciated her enough to look twice.
“Big plans for the day?” Sabrina asks the four of us, pulling my attention away.
“Margie’s never been here before, so I’m gonna take her on a tour,” Lucky says.
“I drove around the lake and saw the train station when I got here,” Margie says. “It’s so quaint and cute. How do you live here every day and not just stare at the mountains?”
“Oh, the people are much more interesting,” Sabrina says. “They—”
A clatter explodes behind us.
I leap to my feet and spin around.
A young man’s squatting near a table, gathering a tray full of shattered mugs. “Sorry, Sabrina,” he says.
I don’t hear Sabrina answer.
Because Margie’s suddenly next to him, carefully helping pick up the broken porcelain pieces among the liquid all over the floor. “You okay?” she asks the kid.
He flashes an awkward smile. “Oh, I’ve got this, ma’am.”
“Was that my coffee?” someone at a nearby table says. “Dammit, I’ve been waiting for that for ten minutes.”
The kid cringes.
“Shit happens,” Decker says.
“Never seen Cedar drop a tray before,” Lucky adds. “Someone bump you?”
“All an accident,” Cedar says while Margie keeps helping move broken mug pieces onto the tray and out of the walkway.
Sabrina appears with a mop. “We’ll get you a replacement coffee right away,” she says to the guy who’s glaring from the table, then drops her voice and adds, “but it’s not like you need it because you had a toddler who woke you up at four-thirty this morning like some of us did.”
Margie rises and reaches for the mop. “I’ll get this.”
Sabrina squints at her. “You sure?”
“You’re very busy today.”
“No, I got it, Sabrina.” Lucky slides in between the women and snags the mop before Margie can take it. “Margie’s right. You’re busy. We’ll handle it.”
“Make room, people,” Decker says. “Slippery floor. Don’t want more of you spilling coffee. That’ll wreck your day.”
Other than the one unsatisfied customer, everyone’s pretty chill, though there are a lot of people in here.
Every booth and table is full, and more people are in line.
“Fucking tourist,” Decker mutters to me while Lucky and Margie help Cedar finish the cleanup.
My shoulders tighten as I study the people around us.
A lot are dressed like Decker, mountain casual, like they’re all headed off for hiking or backpacking after coffee.
Some are more casual.
There’s a table of women all in sweatpants or leggings and hoodies or sweatshirts. A table of older dudes having an animated conversation. Some people in line are checking their phones, others are staring at the menus.
The doorbells jingle again, and I flinch.
Too many people.
If I were running security here, I’d tell whoever I was guarding that we were leaving. I gesture to Sabrina, who seems to be everywhere but is currently behind the counter again. “Can I get mine to go?”
Decker eyes me.
“Too crowded,” I mutter.
It’s not a lie.
But also, I need to get back to the cabin.
Solo.
Pull up my computer.
Find pictures of that last security gig I worked.
Identify the woman I’m thinking of so I can verify for myself that I’m hallucinating in thinking Margie looks anything like her beyond making a similar facial expression.
I know what the problem is there.
The problem is that it wasn’t the only time I saw the woman that night, and I liked her the first time, even more the second.
Not liked her.
I was still engaged to Felice.
Planning to marry her the week after that night.
But I appreciated that woman at the event. Noticed her for the kindness.
Because the second time I saw her, when a server hit the ground and started having a seizure, the same woman who’d easily saved Imogen Carter from the annoying older man was the first person dropping to the ground next to the server, calling for help and clearing the server’s dropped tray away to make room for someone like me—security with medical training—to get there and assist.
She was calm, collected, and compassionate in a place where everyone else was ego and arrogance, and I wanted to know who she was.
I wanted to know who she was and why she was there with that crowd.
And then, when my world imploded not twenty-four hours later, losing both my job and my fiancée in practically the same breath, I wondered if that woman would’ve shown me the same kindness if I’d wanted a shoulder to cry on.
I shake my head.
Definitely need to go for a hike too. Touch some nature. Relax.
Pull up my computer and confirm for myself that I’m hallucinating and need to get out more and worry less.
“Coffee to go for me too,” Decker says to Sabrina. “And two more scones.” He jerks his head at Lucky and Margie, who are finishing up with Cedar. “Put theirs on my tab too.”
Margie squints again, this time at me, and fuck me sideways.
It’s that little lift in her eye.
That’s too distinct.
And I’m losing my fucking mind because how the hell would a housekeeper from Des Moines have been in the same place with the world’s most important hospitality dinner in Manhattan?
And why is the idea that it’s her making my hidden-in-stone heart flutter unevenly?
“So I guess I’ll see you at home?” she says to me.
“I’ll announce my presence.”
Lucky grins. Decker grimaces.
“If I’d known you were coming—” she starts, then shakes her head and smiles at me. Full-on beams, actually. With white teeth flashing and eyes bright and cheerful, her lips smooth and plump and the perfect shade of pink. “Thank you. I appreciate the thoughtfulness. A girl can’t be too careful.”
“As you’ve said.” I look at her once more, a good long look, then turn and leave without another word.
I don’t tell Decker I’ll meet him outside.
He knows. He’s seen me bail on crowded restaurants before. This won’t be fully weird.
What would be weird is if his half sister was in New York as a guest of some kind at my last security event with the company that my stepfather stole from me.
And she couldn’t have been.
I just need a reboot, and then I’ll get back to normal.