Chapter 8
8
“I have a proposition for you.”
Zach propped his elbows on the counter of the boardgame café. It was a week since he’d seen Maggie in The Starr Light Diner. He’d waved to her from across the room, and enjoyed the way she had blushed… just as he was now enjoying the way her dark eyes widened and flared in awareness… That was, until her mouth pursed up like a prune and she folded her arms across her chest.
“Oh, really?” she remarked coolly. “And what would that be?”
She sounded like a schoolteacher. Zach slowly straightened, raking a hand through his hair. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize she must have heard some of the rumors about him, probably when she’d been brunching with some of Starr’s Fall coven of gossips.
“What do you think it is?” he remarked with the slightest edge to his voice. All right, it was true that they didn’t know each other very well, but he’d felt the flicker of something back in Laurie’s upstairs hallway, when he’d asked her if she was all right and she’d closed her eyes and practically swayed into him. It had been a small moment, but it had still been a moment. There had been chemistry, he was sure of it. He’d certainly felt it, anyway. But now Maggie was looking at him like she suspected him of being a serial killer… or maybe just a serial dater.
Which, he wondered sourly, was worse in her eyes?
“I don’t know,” Maggie replied pettishly. She took a deep breath and then added more levelly, “Maybe you could just tell me.”
They stared at each other for a beat that felt both laden and tense. Zach hadn’t meant for things to escalate so quickly; in fact, he’d come into the café full of optimism and excitement. Now he took a breath that matched Maggie’s as he decided to dial it down.
“It was about the boardgame café,” he told her. “But I thought maybe we could talk about it over a coffee, my treat at the diner?”
She hesitated and then replied, “There’s no need to go all the way to the diner. You can come upstairs and have a coffee there if you have something to discuss.” She still sounded stiffly formal. “Ben’s just finishing his schoolwork.”
Zach had no intention of dying on that particular hill. He didn’t really care where they had coffee. “Okay,” he said. “Great. Thanks.”
She paused as if she was going to say something else, and then turned on her heel and walked to the stairs that ran alongside the store. Zach followed her, unable to keep from noticing how her jeans emphasized the long slimness of her legs. She wore a quarter-zip fleece on top and her hair was pulled back with a clip, so tendrils fell about her face, including that one streak that was entirely silver. He liked it; it gave her both a vulnerability and a strength, a fragile Cruella de Vil vibe, if such a thing were possible.
He was being fanciful, he knew, but that was what happened to him when he met a woman he liked. He went into full fairy-tale mode, not that he’d ever admit such a thing to anyone. He’d rather be seen as a serial dater than a hopeless romantic. Well, maybe.
“I haven’t been up here before,” he remarked as Maggie led him into the living room. It was a comfortable space, similar in layout to Laurie’s place, but with a bit more flair. The living area was taken up with a big, squashy-looking leather sofa, and tucked into one corner was an antique armoire painted in bold yellow, holding rows of paperbacks as well as a few eclectic bits of pottery. A vase of dried flowers was on the windowsill, and a crocheted patchwork throw in every color of the rainbow—in fluorescent—was draped over a deep armchair of eggplant-colored velvet. Considering how Maggie had only worn shades of gray or brown since he’d met her, the splashes of vivid color were a pleasant surprise.
She led him into the adjoining kitchen, where Ben was seated at an antique desk pushed up under the window, a desktop computer in front of him. Open shelves above the countertops showcased a mix of cups and plates, each one looking like it had been selected from a different set. Maggie clearly had a funky aesthetic or was colorblind, but he liked the randomness of the assortment. It suggested a quirkiness to her personality that he hadn’t totally expected.
“Zach!” Ben exclaimed, his face lighting up as he turned to face them.
“Hey.” Zach smiled. He’d been spending several hours nearly every night playing RQ with Ben, but he hadn’t seen him in person in a couple of weeks, and he was struck again by how young and vulnerable he seemed—the way he hid behind the dirty blond bangs that slid into his face, how he hunched his shoulders and covered his hands with his sweatshirt. “I hope you’re not on RQ,” he remarked with mock severity, “when you’re meant to be doing your schoolwork.”
“No. English.” Ben made a face. “But I’m almost done,” he added hopefully.
“I can’t play till later,” Zach told him. He didn’t usually play RainQuest every single night, and certainly not for as many hours as he had with Ben, but it seemed like the best way to be the kid’s friend, as Maggie had asked him to be, although she’d tried to pretend she hadn’t. She probably thought he was some kind of sad weirdo, he reflected, playing video games with a fourteen-year-old most nights. Maybe he was a sad weirdo, but he felt sorry for Ben, and they’d chatted online as they’d played. While Ben hadn’t revealed much about his life, what he had had made Zach suspect the teenager was deeply lonely.
He glanced at Maggie, feeling suddenly dispirited; never mind Ben, he felt lonely. He’d thought they were becoming friends, but it was clear from her stiff movements and the way she wasn’t speaking that her opinion of him had seriously dipped since he’d last seen her.
Ben must have sensed the tension because he rose from his desk, looking between them both, and said, “I think I’m gonna go for a walk.”
Maggie whirled around. “A walk? But your English?—”
Ben waved her objection aside. “I’m almost done, and you know, I should be doing gym too, right? Physical exercise.” He went to the row of hooks by the stairs and pulled off a parka. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
And then he was gone, disappearing down the stairs while Maggie gaped after him, looking she’d lost her best friend. After a few seconds, she snapped her mouth shut and turned back to the kettle she’d been filling. “Would you like coffee,” she asked with excruciating politeness, “or tea?”
“Coffee would be great,” he replied with the same politeness. “Thank you.”
Maggie spent a few minutes spooning coffee into a French press as Zach rocked back on his heels, wondering how to break a silence that was definitely starting to feel uncomfortable. He could hardly sell Maggie his proposition when she was like this, and yet he was reluctant to ask her what had put her in this mood. What she’d heard about him… but he could already imagine.
“So how are you settling in?” he finally asked. “I like your place up here. Lots of color.”
She glanced around suspiciously, as if looking for confirmation of his assessment, which hadn’t been a criticism, even if, judging by the way she’d bristled, she seemed to have taken it as such. “I like color,” she replied defensively.
“I do too.” Zach had a feeling every topic was going to be a conversation minefield. “Looks like you’ve made some progress with the café,” he remarked. When he’d come downstairs, some leather sofas had been pushed against the walls, and a wooden counter installed along the back, by the kitchen area. It was a start.
“Yes, some,” Maggie agreed. She turned around, her arms folded, as she waited for the kettle to boil. “I’m hoping we’ll be able to open by the beginning of March, but we’ll see. I haven’t done any marketing yet, and frankly, I don’t really know where to begin with all that.”
“Maybe I could help,” Zach suggested. “I’ve done a little marketing for the store. I know what newspapers to put ads in, anyway.”
Maggie’s gaze narrowed. “That’s very kind of you, but?—”
“That’s actually the nature of my proposition,” he cut across her, not wanting to have to listen to her rebuff. “I’m not trying to come across as pushy, but I’d love to help you with the café however I can.”
She cocked her head, looking uncertain, maybe even a little suspicious. “You’ve already got a general store to manage. Ben and I went in there the other day. It’s very nice?—”
“My sister does most of the management,” Zach cut across her for a second time. In the three weeks since he and Jenna had had that clash, his sister had doubled down on her decisions. She’d canceled the order they’d already agreed on for some local artisan products and had stocked even more soup. Chicken noodle, too. He hadn’t even bothered to show her his business plan, and now he wasn’t sure if he ever would. Jenna seemed determined to do things her way, no matter how much sense his business ideas might make.
Zach understood her reasoning, sort of; the store had to carry some staples. But he was starting to suspect that Jenna was just disagreeing with him because she needed to be in control, rather than what made the most business sense. In an age of online shopping and easy delivery—even to Starr’s Fall—it just didn’t make sense not to stock a few higher-quality products for the occasional tourist.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Maggie said slowly. “Are you asking for a job?”
He was saved from replying by the shrill whistle of the kettle. Maggie turned around and busied herself with making the coffee while he tried not to feel stupid. No, he was not asking for a job . Jeez, did she really think he was that pathetic? That desperate, that he was asking her to employ him at minimum wage or something? He already had that kind of job… being more or less employed by his sister, even though on paper they were fifty-fifty equal owners.
“Milk or sugar?” she asked as she poured the coffee and then brought two mugs to the table.
“I take it black, thanks.” He joined her at the table, sitting across from her. “And no, I’m not asking for a job, not as such. I just thought you might appreciate the help, and I’d really like to see this place succeed. Starr’s Fall needs more unique attractions. I checked and the only other boardgame café in all of Connecticut is in New Haven, so this could be a real draw to the area.”
“And you think it won’t succeed without your help?” Maggie asked a bit sharply, her eyes flashing, and Zach drew back, surprised as well as a little exasperated.
“I didn’t say that.”
She tucked a silver strand of hair behind her ear. “All right, but you implied it, though, pretty much.”
Why, he wondered, were they arguing? Was Maggie just looking for a fight? “I’m sorry if it seemed as if I did,” he said after a moment. “Trust me, that was not my intention. I just know how overwhelming it can be to start a small business. Jenna and I took over from my parents, and that was hard enough.” Especially as his parents had had a decidedly haphazard approach to the whole enterprise and had let it limp along for well over a decade. “You’re starting from scratch,” he continued. “If I were in your shoes, I’d be taking all the help I could get, but maybe that’s just me.”
Maggie lowered her gaze, her dark lashes fanning across her pale cheeks, as she took a sip of her coffee. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I know I must sound a little snippy.”
“Yeah, why is that?” Zach asked, keeping his tone conversational. “Is it you… or is it me?”
Her startled gaze flew to his, and then darted away again. “What is that supposed to mean?” she asked uncertainly.
“I don’t know.” He hoped honesty was the best policy here. “Just that the last time I saw you, at Laurie’s, I felt like we got along. Now I feel like we don’t.”
“I barely know you…” Maggie protested as a flush rose to her cheeks.
“Yeah, I get that. But I think you know what I mean.” His words seemed to settle between them. Maggie took another sip of coffee, clearly stalling. Was he stupid to push this, Zach wondered. She was right; they did barely know each other. And he knew he could get carried away in any kind of relationship with a woman, even one as tenuous as this. It was why his dating history was so poor… and prolific. He just never seemed to learn his lesson, that not everyone was looking for forever, and those who were weren’t necessarily a great fit. He had yet to find a woman he’d wanted to go the distance with, or even, frankly, a short way… but he kept trying. Hence his reputation.
But despite all that, he reminded himself, Maggie had asked him to be her son’s friend, and had seemed like she’d needed him, and like a chump he’d been grinding RQ for two or three hours a night, which was not his usual MO, and all for Ben’s sake. For Maggie’s .
So maybe he would push it.
“What have you heard about me?” he asked quietly.
“What—” she began to bluster, and now her cheeks were fiery. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?—”
“Maggie. Come on. I saw you with those women at the diner. I’m guessing one or all of them were talking about me.”
“This is ridiculous…” she murmured and started to rise from the table.
Without thinking about what he was doing, Zach caught her hand in his. She stilled, and he realized it had been a bit presumptuous to touch her like that… just as he felt the electric charge run up his arm and twang through his body, and he could tell from the way her breath hitched that Maggie had felt it, too. The chemistry between them was real… and strong.
Her hair had fallen out of its clip and was tousled about her shoulders, and with her face flushed and her lips slightly parted she looked beautiful… and sexy. For a second, the moment spun out, turned into something else. Unthinkingly, Zach ran his thumb along her palm and a shudder went through her before she jerked her hand out of his.
“Don’t,” she said in a taut voice, “toy with me, please.”
“ Toy with you?” he repeated. “So you have heard something. What did they say?”
“All right, fine, some of the women I did Pilates with mentioned that you’re… something of a player,” she confirmed with a stiff nod, not quite meeting his gaze. “ Not ,” she continued quickly, “that that sort of thing has anything to do with me. Your dating profile is… I mean, I’m old enough to be your mother.”
Zach let out a huff of laughter. “Only if you had children when you were about ten.”
She lifted her chin. “How old are you?”
He met her gaze squarely. “Thirty-one.”
“Well, I’m forty -one,” she shot back, as if that proved something.
“So ten years’ difference,” he replied, unfazed. He’d figured she was around that, anyway, and he really didn’t care. “Hardly a parental kind of age gap.”
“Speak for yourself.” Her voice trembled and she took a deep breath, clearly striving to keep her composure. “I’m only mentioning it at all because you asked and also because of Ben. I need to be careful who has influence in his life, and you’ve been playing online with him a lot recently, so naturally I’m concerned about the sort of things you might be saying to him…”
She trailed off, as if realizing the gross offense of what she was insinuating, while Zach struggled to keep his tone level.
“So you think while we’re gaming, I’m bragging about all the notches on my bedpost or something?” he surmised in derision. “That’s pretty rich, considering the reason I’m playing online with him at all is because you asked me to be his friend. Or did I misread that part? Somehow I don’t think I did.” He didn’t wait for her to reply as he continued recklessly. “As for what you heard… you could have asked me outright. Yes, I’ve gone on a lot of dates. That doesn’t make me a player. In fact, it’s the opposite, if anyone in this town cared to ask about it or believe that people can change. I thought someone who was new here might reserve judgment, but clearly I was wrong.” He was working up a full head of steam, his voice throbbing with emotion, and not just anger. If he had the self-control to stop and think for a second, Zach knew he’d reel it back in, but the truth was, he was just too worked up. Hell, he decided, he’d just keep going for it.
“As for Ben… he’s a good kid,” he told Maggie, “but he’s clearly been through a lot , stuff neither of you have ever said to me, so I have no idea what any of it is, but it’s clearly there and it’s a thing and I’ve just been trying to be a friend to him, shooting the breeze while we’re online. Sorry to have exerted some of my influence .” He was tempted to storm out right there and then, but he didn’t normally do drama, and Maggie’s face had drained of color, which concerned him. She looked both shocked and mortified.
“Sorry to dump all that on you,” he finished gruffly, “but I’ve kind of had it up to here with the jokes everyone makes about my dating life, especially when they don’t know the first thing about it.”
“It’s none of my business…” she whispered, still looking mortified. “I shouldn’t have said anything?—”
“You’re right to be concerned about Ben,” Zach cut across her wearily. All the rage he’d felt seconds ago was now gone, leaving him feeling flat. “Especially since we’ve been spending so much time together online. If I were a parent, I’d have the same concerns. In fact, I’d be wondering what the heck a thirty-one-year-old guy is doing, playing RQ with my teenager. I don’t normally play it that much,” he continued with an attempt at wryness. “I do have a little more of a life than that.” It was one thing for a fourteen-year-old boy to grind a game every evening, another for a grown man.
“Well, you do need time to go out on all those dates,” Maggie replied with a small, weak attempt at a smile.
Zach let out a huff of tired laughter. “I’ve actually given up on dating,” he told her. “Tinder let me down.”
Her cheeks were pinkening again, no doubt at the mention of Tinder. “Oh? How so?”
“You don’t swipe right for the love of your life,” he explained with a shrug. “It took me a while to realize that.”
“Is that what you’re looking for?” she asked, sounding both surprised and a little too incredulous. “The love of your life?”
“Isn’t everybody?” Zach returned lightly. He wasn’t going to get into it more than that; he’d had quite enough of baring his soul for one afternoon. “Anyway. Maybe we should talk about the café.”
Maggie stared at him for a moment, and then she surprised him by saying, “Maybe we should start over.”