Chapter 6
A few days later, Maggie received a text from Ridge while they were at work. He was in a meeting, she knew, because she had watched him swish by her desk looking harried and important.
Dinner tonight?
Sure, but aren’t you in a meeting?
Yes, but a bureaucratic windbag is speaking and if I give him my full attention, I might punch him and get fired. So, really, you’re saving my job right now.
She smiled. How’s pizza?
I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him today , he replied.
I meant for supper, dingus.
Food is your thing, and what’s a dingus?
A super cool, handsome guy.
Nice , he replied.
See also: gullible , she texted.
I was about to say something nice to you but forget it .
Were you going to compliment my mad typing skills? The ones that handed in my last report an hour before it was due? she asked
Yes, I was going to say your mad typing skills are looking pretty cute today. I like the dress . He added a winking emoji that made her smile again.
Thanks. Another sister special. She keeps me clothed.
What does it mean that your sister and I have the same taste in clothes? he asked.
I’ll have her buy you some dresses next time she’s in town.
I prefer skirts , he said.
I feel like we should be having this convo in front of the company therapist
Gotta go. Giving a presentation in 3, 2, 1…
Quick question: could you get arrested for picturing a room full of generals in their underpants?
She didn’t hear from him for about an hour, and then he texted again as he strode by her desk on the way back to his office.
Thanks for making me giggle like a little girl as I stood up to speak .
“Who do you think he could be texting?” Blue perched on the edge of Maggie’s desk, his eyes following Ridge as he went into his office and closed the door.
“Who do you think he could be texting?” she echoed, shifting her phone into her pocket.
“I don’t know. Who would Satan have on speed dial?” he mused.
“His mom?” Maggie guessed.
“No, he ate her soon after he was hatched, if the rumors are true,” Blue said.
“He’s really a nice guy,” Maggie told him, and not for the first time.
He put his hand to her forehead. “Poor pumpkin. You’re delirious with fever.”
“Someday you’re going to see it,” Maggie assured him.
He gave her what appeared to be a pitying expression. “No, Maggie, someday you’re going to see what we’ve all been talking about, and then you’ll be sorry you ever tried to defend him.”
“We’ll see,” she said.
“Yes, we will and, as your work husband, I want you to know I’m here to pick up the pieces when you eventually unravel,” he said.
“Wait a minute, I thought Babs was your work wife,” she said, squinting suspiciously up at him.
“I’m work polygamous,” he informed her.
“I’m not. I’m a one work husband type of gal, and you’re not it,” she informed him.
He clutched his heart. “That hurts me.”
She picked up a pencil and began poking him with the blunt end. “You have to go now. I have a report due. ”
“You’re so diligent. No wonder you’re teacher’s pet,” Blue said.
“I am not teacher’s pet,” she argued. “I’m merely conscientious.”
“Mm, hmm. Tell me that next time you take Lucifer a piece of cake.”
“That’s called being a team player,” she said.
“That’s called borrowing trouble. The less contact you have with him the better.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he put up his hands in surrender. “Friendly warning.”
“Duly noted,” she said, making a shooing motion for him to go away again as her phone beeped with another text. When Blue was safely gone, she picked it up and read.
Do you have food? I missed lunch, and I’m getting a headache.
Of course she had food. Her desk was loaded with snacks in case she got stuck at work and couldn’t eat supper. She was not the type of person who could safely skip a meal.
I’ll leave you something in the break room.
Can’t you bring it in here? Head is pounding.
I’m being watched , she said, glancing around to make sure no one was observing her as she texted him.
I’ll fix it. Load your pockets.
She loaded her pockets with the healthy snacks she knew he’d like. A minute later, he opened his door, stepped out, and strode purposefully to her desk. He gave it a knock, the signature thing he did when he was getting ready to summon someone to the inner sanctum for a berating session. “Maggie, my office.” He turned and went back the way he came without another word or glance.
Maggie pushed away from her desk and followed him a few paces behind, wondering what it would be like if she actually were getting called to the carpet. It had happened to almost everyone but her. All eyes were on her now as she did what was known in the office as the walk of shame. Usually when people came out of Ridge’s office after such a walk, they were either crying or on their way to the bathroom for a good cry.
Ridge opened the door and closed it behind her before speaking. “What do you have that’s good? Hopefully a lot. I missed breakfast, too.”
“No wonder you have a headache. You can’t skip meals. Have you had water today? You’re probably dehydrated,” she said as she began to empty her pockets onto his desk. Nuts, granola bars, energy bars, candy, and trail mix tumbled out, along with an apple.
“This is spectacular. You’re the best,” Ridge said as he picked up the apple and took a bite.
“Of course you’d go for the fruit first, you weirdo. There’s chocolate right here,” she said, holding a candy bar in plain view for him.
“What kind of psychopath eats chocolate before the fruit?” he asked.
“You’re hopeless,” she informed him. “Oh, wait, I have one last thing.” She turned her back on him. When she turned back around, she handed him a bottle of water.
“Where did that come from?” he asked, puzzled .
“Can’t a girl have some secrets?” she asked. She took a step toward the door, but he tugged her back and kissed her forehead.
“Thank you, I really appreciate it. See you later. Text me the address of where we’re meeting, I might be a few minutes late.”
“All right. Don’t skip meals again, and drink all your water,” she scolded.
“Fine, Dad,” he said.
“Dad?” she said.
“I was going to say Mommy, but it sounded kinky in my head, so I switched it up,” he said.
She was smiling as she placed her hand on the door. With effort, she wiped it. If she came away from this meeting laughing, her work mates would hate her for sure. Instead she tried to look somber and subdued as she strode quietly back to her office.
Did you get reamed? Blue texted her, and even through the phone he sounded gleeful over the prospect.
No, just helping him with a problem. Everything is fine , she texted him.
He leaned around his desk so they made direct eye contact, wiped the end of his nose, and pointed at her.
Which was worse, being called a brown noser or teacher’s pet? Was there a difference? She gave him an exaggerated shrug. He rolled his eyes and resumed working. She wished she could explain to everyone that they had woefully misjudged Ridge. He wasn’t Satan; he was one of the kindest, funniest, silliest, and most thoughtful men she had ever met. For now, she would have to keep their friendship under wraps but, as she thought about it, she realized that wasn’t such a bad thing. After all, a girl really did need to maintain some secrets.
Later, after work, they met at a restaurant of Maggie’s choosing. Ridge wasn’t into food as much as she was. She had an entire list of places she wanted to try. For tonight, she decided on a low-key pizza place, sensing he needed somewhere to unwind.
“It smells amazing,” he greeted her as he slipped into the booth across from her.
“Thank you.”
He smiled. “Are you taking credit for the restaurant’s smell now?”
“It’s not the restaurant, it’s me. I’m trying a new cologne, au de oregano .”
“You look normal, but then you open your mouth and the words disprove the theory,” he said. He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly but it did nothing to ease the tense set of his shoulders.
“Give me your left hand,” Maggie demanded.
He did so. “Are you going to propose?”
“No, I’m going to help you relax. Trust me.” She began gently massaging his hand and he stared into space, entranced as the tension seemed to drain from his body.
“How are you doing this?” he asked as she switched hands and began massaging the right one.
“My college roommate was deeply into holistic health and massage. She went on to become a naturopath, and she taught me some lasting lessons about the healing power of touch, as well as the body’s meridians.”
“Meridians, you mean like where your toe is connected to your spleen and all that nonsense?” he said .
“Yes, and I believe it completely,” she said.
“I didn’t take you for a nut job. I mean, you are, but you also have access to mounds of scientific research,” he said.
“It might surprise you to know the scientific community is beginning to come around to the nut job’s way of thinking. Meanwhile you called the person who is massaging your hands a nut job.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and resting his head on the seat behind him. He might have fallen asleep if the waitress hadn’t arrived to take their order. They quickly scanned the menu and decided on something.
“What is it with you, Maggie?” he asked when the waitress walked away. “I have never let a woman I wasn’t dating massage me before, and yet here we are. For all intents and purposes, we barely know each other. And yet I feel more comfortable with you than most people I’ve known for years. What is that?”
“Do we have to give it a label, Ridge? Some people have natural chemistry. Sometimes it’s romantic chemistry, and sometimes it’s not. Ours is not, and so we’re friends. Maybe we’re friendship soul mates and we’ve found each other at last. This is so going to go in my movie.”
“I liked it better before you tried to come up with a name for it,” he said. “But fine, we’re friendship soul mates.” He squeezed the hand that was still holding his. “How are you holding up? You’ve had a huge transition.”
“Great, actually. Everyone is so nice at the office,” she said.
“Really?” he asked, surprised. “It seems like such a cold environment to me, or it did.” Now that he thought about it, things had warmed up in the last few weeks. Ellen’s birthday party was the first such celebration he could remember in the months since the team was assembled. And then it dawned on him: Maggie was the difference. Her warm, effusive nature was spreading to the others.
“What?” she asked.
“What what?” he said.
“You’re smiling at me in a most peculiar manner,” she said. She had stopped massaging his hand, but he didn’t withdraw it. They were essentially holding hands now across the table, but neither seemed to realize.
“I’m glad I brought you on board, is all,” he said. “Now, tell me something I don’t know.”
“It is physically impossible for you to lick your elbow,” she said.
“I meant something about you I don’t know,” he said.
“It’s physically impossible for me to lick my elbow, too,” she said.
“Tell me the most fun thing you’ve done since you moved here,” he said.
“I took my dog to Theodore Roosevelt Island,” she said.
“That’s it?”
“I’m a woman of simple tastes, and you’re not allowed to make fun of my fun thing. What’s your most fun thing?” she asked.
“My brother came to town and we went to a Capitals game,” he said.
“And the Capitals are…”
“Hockey,” he said.
“I’ve never been to a hockey game,” she said.
“It’s the best. Hey, let’s go. There’s a game tonight,” he said.
“Tonight? I don’t know if I could do that. I don’t like riding the train home so late. That’s when all the crazies come out. ”
“I’ll take you home. You don’t live that far from me, actually,” he said. His thumb was gently smoothing over the back of her hand, and still neither of them realized.
“I’m not great with spontaneity,” she said.
“You basically decided to give up your life and move here on a whim,” he said.
“That’s a good point. Okay, let’s hockey. Aren’t we a little overdressed?”
“It’s DC. No one will bat an eye,” he said.
In the end, he was right. There were other people overdressed for a hockey game, too, but Maggie wouldn’t have cared because she had a blast.
“I love hockey,” she declared.
“I know because that’s the fourth time you said it,” he told her as he drove her to her house after the game. They had picked up her car from the train station and dropped it at her house so she could check on her dog, and then she rode with him. “Plus you bought the shirt.”
“Can I wear it to work?” she asked. He gave her a disparaging glance. “I’m going to take that as a maybe. This was so much fun, Cam. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. They reached her house and he walked her to the door.
“Do you want to come inside for coffee? I’m too wired to sleep anyway,” she said.
“Sure,” he agreed. He was curious to see inside, and his first glimpse did not disappoint. It was colorful and inviting, much like the woman herself. Not fancy, but still pleasant and homey. The dog was even more massive than he had expected, reaching halfway up Ridge’s body when he came to greet him.
“How can you not be a dog person?” she asked.
“Who says I’m not a dog person?” he returned .
“Your face as you’re attempting to sidestep my dog. He won’t allow it, by the way. He demands to be greeted like a proper member of the family.”
“It’s not dogs I don’t like. It’s their messes. All the fur and slobber and whatnot. I always had dogs growing up, but they stayed outside.”
“Ranch dogs are different,” she said.
“That’s where we agree,” he replied. “Dogs should have a purpose, not be pampered playthings.”
“Samson has a purpose. He’s a guard dog.”
“He’s doing a stellar job,” Ridge said as the dog practically fell over itself to lick him.
She put on a pot of coffee, and they sat on the couch. “Do you mind if I check the score of the game?” he asked.
“The game we just went to? Because I don’t know if you were paying attention, but they won,” she said.
“The other game,” he said. Reaching for the remote, he turned to ESPN.
“Five minutes in my house, and you’ve commandeered the remote. Would you like to run real quick and put the toilet seat up to complete your domination of my space?” she asked.
“Sports now, talk later,” he said.
She retrieved their coffee, set his on a coaster in front of him, and held hers to her nose.
“It’s black,” he noted.
“You take it black.”
“I meant yours. You used to take it with cream and sugar,” he said.
“That was before I got physically fit and lost twenty pounds,” she said. “A fact you still haven’t noted.”
“I’ve noted,” he said. He reached out a hand and patted her knee without removing his eyes from the television screen .
“If a naked woman walked through here, would you take your eyes off of sports to look at her?” she asked.
“Depends on the woman,” he said. He reached for his coffee and drank while Maggie picked up her book and began reading.
“How can you read when the TV is on?” he asked.
“How can you have the TV on when there are books to read?” she countered.
He finally turned to face her. “You never watch TV?”
“Oh, I watch mounds of TV, but never sports,” she said.
“Sports are fun. Remember hockey? They’re all like that, you have to give them a chance.”
“I’ll concede sports are better in person if you’ll concede watching sports stats on TV is boring for someone who doesn’t follow sports,” she said.
“Point conceded. I’m all caught up now anyway. What do you usually watch?”
“Things you’ll hate,” she said.
“Undoubtedly. So what’s a good compromise?” he asked.
“Why do we have to compromise if it’s my house?” she asked.
“Because I’m bigger and I have the remote,” he said.
“Were you on the debate team? Because you’re super good at it,” she said.
“How about old sitcom reruns?” he asked.
“I could go for that,” she said.
He found the channel that played reruns all night, and they settled back to watch. “I should go home,” he said an hour later .
“At some point,” she agreed, but neither of them made a move toward the door, and that was the last thing either of them remembered.
In the morning, he woke to the dog staring at him face to face as he lay on her couch. Maggie lay at the other end, still asleep. He glanced at the door, wondering if he could make his way out before she woke up. He felt…caught? Guilty? Something felt wrong about the situation. Though nothing had happened, he still felt like he shouldn’t have stayed over. Gently, he moved one leg, and Maggie’s eyes sprang open. She sat up and looked at him, confused.
“Were you here all night or did you break in to mug me?” she asked.
“I came for your gnome collection,” he said, nodding to the group of gnomes on her mantel.
“You’ll have to get by Samson first,” she said as the dog continued to stare adoringly at him. She yawned and stretched. “Breakfast?”
His excuses to immediately flee died on his lips. “Are you offering to cook for me?”
“I always make breakfast on Saturday mornings for the random men who’ve stayed over,” she informed him.
“Does that happen often?” he asked. To his knowledge, she hadn’t dated since she’d been in DC.
“Literally all the time. I keep a selection of men’s clothing, just in case, but they’re all dirty now, so don’t ask to see them.”
He couldn’t pass up a home cooked meal, something that so rarely happened in his world anymore. “Breakfast sounds good. What can I do to help?”
“Keep me company.”
They eased into the kitchen. He sat at the table while she made bacon, eggs, and pancakes. They spent a long time eating and, though he had a lot to do, it was nearly noon by the time he reluctantly left her house.