No Limos Allowed

Prom Limos Dont Count

Maisie

At the card table, Darleen's little announcement hung in the air like a thunderclap in church. In my mind, I could still hear it. You'd be distracted, too, if you were dating a hot billionaire.

For a long moment, nobody said a thing, not even me, because I was still searching for the words to stop the gossip mill in mid-churn.

But then, things got seriously weird.

Franny cleared her throat, long and loud. Darleen blanched. The two of them shared a long, tense look. And even Beverly grew very still. In somebody's purse, a cell phone buzzed. Nobody moved to get it.

Suddenly, Darleen blurted out, "Just kidding!"

No one laughed, not even Darleen.

Carefully, I placed my remaining cards on the table, face down so nobody could see. Sweeping my gaze like a spotlight, I studied each woman in turn. None of them would meet my eyes. And then, all at once, they began rooting around in their purses as if they were sure the call had been for them.

With a look of triumph, Beverly yanked out her phone and said, "Sorry, I'd better take this." And with that, she stood and scurried out of the room.

It didn't even make sense. I mean, the phone wasn't buzzing now.

When I looked to Darleen, she jumped to her feet and said, "Potty time." A split second later, she was rushing down the hall toward the bathroom.

This left only Franny, who for once, didn't look so eager to talk.

I gave her my hardest stare. "Alright, spill it."

She blinked with feigned innocence. "Spill what?"

"Lemme guess. You've been talking to Sierra."

She shifted in her seat. "Sierra who?"

"Oh, come on. You know exactly who I mean."

With a resigned sigh, she said, "Maybe a little."

It was time to lay my cards on the table. And this time, I didn't mean the kind with hearts or diamonds. "Trust me," I said. "Griff is no billionaire."

She gave me a dubious look. "Are you sure?"

"Of course."

She looked unconvinced. "Because…?"

"Because he told me. And he told Sierra, too – right there in front of me." Afterward, he'd said something even better – that he would choose me no matter what.

Even hours later, I still felt like swooning.

But Franny wasn't having it. She arched a brow as if to say, Are you really, really sure?

Yes. I was. And yet, for some stupid reason, I felt compelled to add, "And I've seen where he's living. It's no mansion."

When Franny still said nothing, I tried again. "He's just a regular guy." Okay, so Griff was beyond regular. He was spectacular. But I meant this in all the ways that mattered most, and none of them had to do with his bank account – or lack thereof.

Franny leaned back in her seat and gave me a long, penetrating look. "You do know he arrived in a limo."

Yeah, right. "Says who?" I scoffed. "Sierra?"

"No, somebody else."

"Who?" I persisted.

Franny's chin lifted. "It doesn't matter. The truth is the truth."

"But that's just silly," I said. "Limos aren't even allowed."

"I don't mean here on the island," she said. "I mean at the ferry terminal in Mackinaw City. That's what dropped him off."

Sure, it did. I gave her a look. "A limo, huh?"

"Yeah, a long black one." She leaned forward. "With a uniformed driver and everything."

I loved Franny. Really, I did. But she loved to exaggerate. "Are you sure it wasn't just a regular car?"

This made her bristle. "I know what a limo is."

"Okay, fine. Let's say he did arrive in a limo. That doesn't prove he's rich."

"Not just rich," she said. " Billionaire rich."

"Oh, come on," I said. "Teenagers take limos all the time."

She snorted. "What, to homecoming?"

"Plus prom. And they're not billionaires." Having grown up on the island, I had never seen a limo in person – for prom or anything else. But I had seen a few movies, so I wasn't completely clueless.

"So that's your theory?" Franny said. "That he's a teenager at prom?"

"I don't need a theory. I'm just not buying it, that's all."

"Oh, yeah?" With a satisfied little smirk, she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. She scrolled for only a moment before saying, "Look!"

She turned the screen to face me, and I leaned across the table for a better view. My heart nearly stopped. There he was – Griff, getting out of a sleek, black limo at the same Mackinaw City ferry terminal that I used whenever I went to the mainland.

Franny looked triumphant. "See?"

The photo proved nothing. Even so, a prickle of unease crept up my spine. "That picture…when did you take it?"

" I didn't take it. Someone sent it to me."

"Who?"

Franny set down her phone, screen-up, but said nothing in reply.

I made a sound of frustration. "If you don't tell me, I'm just gonna start asking around until somebody blabs. And you know they will."

Looking distinctly disgruntled, Franny said, "Yeah, well…you might want to start with Darleen. She's the biggest blabber on the island."

From somewhere down the hall, Darleen called out, "I heard that!"

Franny called back, "You were meant to hear it! You promised, remember?"

"Hey, it was an accident."

"What, like Hank's party?"

They were still bickering when it suddenly hit me. I spoke over the noise. "Wait a minute…it was your sister, wasn't it?"

Franny's sister worked at the ferry terminal on the mainland. She had this habit of snapping photos of interesting tourists as she went about her day. Over the years, I'd seen plenty of these shots, thanks to Franny, who loved to share them in-person and online.

I reached out and plucked Franny's phone from the table and brought the screen closer to my face. Silently, I stared at the photo in question.

Griff was definitely interesting – photo-worthy for sure.

Now, I studied him with fresh eyes. Stepping out of the limo, he looked like a million bucks, just like he'd looked on that very first day, when he'd been arguing with the tourist about his bag.

In the shot, he was wearing the same clothes and carrying the same black duffel that had brought us together in the first place.

Even so, he looked like a stranger – polished, powerful, and utterly out of reach. Sure, his clothes were slightly rumpled, but the man in that photo would never need to sleep in a dump.

And he definitely wouldn't need help from me.

My gaze shifted to Franny, who had neither confirmed nor denied my guess about her sister. For me, this was confirmation enough.

I swallowed hard before asking, "When did she send this to you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters," I said. "Because if you've had this photo for weeks and never mentioned it, well…I just wish you would have."

"It wasn't weeks ," she said, sounding defensive now. "She sent it to me just this morning. She said he was in the paper."

I shook my head. "What paper?"

"The newspaper, what else?"

"They still have newspapers? Seriously?" But then, I waved away the distraction. "Never mind. Forget the paper. Let me get this straight. You're saying you've known about the limo for hours and never thought to tell me?"

She started fiddling with her cards. "Well…I thought about it."

"And…?"

"I decided to save it for later."

"Later, when?"

She straightened in her chair. "As soon as he told you himself. I mean…it wasn't up to me to spill the beans."

Was that a joke? "Oh, please. You're the best bean-spiller on the island."

"Yeah, but never in a bad way." She gave an offended little huff. "I mean…if he were fresh from prison, I would've said so right away."

"But…?"

"But he's not some axe-murderer. He's Montgomery Griffin." She lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. "Billionaire in hiding."

I froze. "Wait …Montgomery Griffin?"

"Yeah, Griff's just a nickname."

No. That couldn't be right. "According to who?"

"The internet. Before you got here, I looked him up – you know, because I got his name from the paper."

Right. The newspaper. I tried to focus. "But you looked him up, how? You mean like on Google?"

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "Google's so yesterday. I used AI…that Chatty-whatever thing."

My pulse quickened. "And?"

"And let's just say, the limo made a lot more sense." Her eyes were bright as she leaned in. "You know, because he's totally loaded."

And now I didn't know what to say. The thought of him having gobs of money should've made me happy – for his sake, if nothing else.

And it did. Or rather it would have, if not for everything such a deception implied.

Was this…some sort of game? The mere idea made me feel cold all over, like someone had just slipped ice cubes down my shirt.

Across from me, Franny said, "But this is a good surprise, right? That's why I didn't want to ruin it. You know how it is with surprise parties and what-not. I don't blab about those , do I?"

She was right. For all her love of gossip, I had never once seen her ruin a surprise. But now, all I could do was silently nod.

Her chin lifted. " And I don't let anyone else ruin it, either. You know how mad I got when Darleen ruined Hank's party. I never let her forget it."

It was true. At the time, it had been quite the scandal, and Darleen had yet to live it down.

I looked toward the hall, only to see Beverly and Darleen duck back around the corner as if afraid to be seen. I let out a sigh. Was nothing private?

I called out, "You might as well come out. I've already learned everything."

Except this wasn't quite true, because when I got home, I learned a whole lot more. And none of it was good – at least not for me.