36. Maeve
MAEVE
The next day, there isn’t much going on for once. I think even Elaine needs a break occasionally. Either that, or the rest of her family staged an intervention and strong-armed her into giving them a day off between all the scheduled activities.
It’s probably the latter, actually. The thought of that family meeting makes me smile—I can just picture how it must have gone down.
The three men are working when I wake up.
Ford was already gone by the time I opened my eyes, and I’m surprised he managed to slip out without disturbing me.
I don’t remember my dreams, but I do remember feeling safe and warm, like there was a protective presence beside me all night.
I think we must have slept curled up together. The thought makes my heart flutter.
When I get down to breakfast, Lydia’s there chatting over her coffee, and Charles is absorbed in his newspaper, but none of the men are present.
“They already ate,” Lydia explains when I look around. “They’re holed up in the office working. They said they’d be in there all day.”
“I’ll have to make sure they get lunch then, or they’ll forget to eat,” I say aloud, trying not to let my disappointment show.
Charles makes a disapproving noise. Not at my offer to bring them lunch, I think, but at the men spending their entire vacation day working.
I try not to bristle defensively on their behalf.
While I hope they’d appreciate my support, getting into an argument with Ford’s father probably wouldn’t be smart.
I serve myself breakfast while Lydia chatters about the party yesterday—all the people she got to catch up with and the gossip she heard. I nod along, only half listening.
Of course the men have to work. They made it clear to the family that this was a working holiday, and I wouldn’t expect anything less from them. They’re all workaholics, and there’s this massive deal on the horizon.
But we only have so much time together. Christmas break isn’t going to last forever. When it ends, we’ll go our separate ways. I’ll leave them behind permanently. I’ll never get another chance like this in my life, and I want to make the most of it.
I’m an adult, though. I can handle the fact that we have adult responsibilities. We’re not teenagers who can only think about our hormones and ignore everything else that matters.
“I was thinking we could just have a movie day?” Lydia asks as we finish eating. “Mom wants us to have family game night later, but until then the day’s ours. I already finished wrapping my presents, so…”
“That sounds really nice,” I tell her. I haven’t had a proper day off in years—not one I could actually enjoy, anyway. Usually I’d be so exhausted I’d just collapse and sleep, which isn’t the same thing at all.
I put on a cute skirt and a cozy sweater before joining Lydia in what she calls the film room. It’s essentially a mini theater with a projection screen covering an entire wall and ridiculously comfortable chairs, couches, and bean bags scattered around.
I examine myself in the mirror briefly before heading downstairs. I look cute and comfortable but put-together, with my hair pulled back loosely and tumbling over my shoulders. I always try to look nice and fashionable.
But now I find myself looking at my reflection differently. I try to see what these three men supposedly see in me. I think about what Hayden said, how all three of them act like I should obviously know how attractive I am.
I still look like the same old Maeve to me. Pretty enough, I suppose, but not drop-dead gorgeous or devastatingly sexy.
Maybe I need to start being kinder to myself. Try to see myself through their eyes. After all, none of them are the type to lie about something like attraction, and they could have any woman they wanted. If they want me, it must be because they genuinely think I’m worth their time.
I head downstairs, still processing this shift in perspective.
It’s so strange, having your entire self-image challenged like this.
I feel like someone just convinced me that the sky has always been orange.
I need time to adjust to this new idea—this version of Maeve Keller as someone beautiful and desirable.
Lydia has everything set up when I arrive, including soft blankets and an array of snacks.
It’s so nice to just curl up and relax like we’re kids having a sleepover.
I haven’t done this in ages, especially not with a friend.
Allison and I mostly just grab drinks when we have time—it’s all our schedules will allow.
“Too bad the others can’t join us,” I say as the movie starts, unable to stop myself.
“I know. I used to let it really bother me. I’m Ford’s sister—we only get so much time together, and even on vacation he’s still working? I used to get so frustrated. I’d interrupt him constantly, come up with excuses to bother him just to get his attention.”
I can picture a much younger Lydia doing exactly that. There’s about ten years between her and Ford, so she would have been this adorable little pest trying to get her big brother’s attention.
“But…” Lydia shrugs. “Now that I’m older, I understand this is what it takes to run such a successful company the way they do. I’m proud of him. And he does make time for family. It’s not like he’s skipping all our activities.”
“Very true.” Obviously I can’t tell her that what I really want is for her brother to be upstairs with me right now doing decidedly non-family-friendly things. She might assume that since Ford is supposedly my fiancé, but I’m not about to say it out loud no matter how many jokes Lydia makes.
“I think in a way, work is his version of adult fun,” Lydia laughs. “Because at the end of the day, he’s doing it with his two best friends. Scheming together the way they used to when they were younger. Except instead of pranks and mischief, it’s acquiring companies and closing major deals.”
I nod along, keeping my eyes fixed on the screen. She’s right—they are best friends, and they genuinely enjoy their work. Ford, Hayden, and Gabriel aren’t workaholics out of obligation or duty. They have fun with what they do.
And they’re best friends who do everything together.
Sure, theoretically that might include sharing a woman, but what if it means something different? What if sharing me could be the thing that drives a wedge between them?
The question haunts me throughout both movies we watch. I try to stay focused on the screen, but it keeps creeping back into my thoughts, especially during any romantic scenes.
My vague plan of teasing the men when I bring them lunch—flirting, maybe even persuading them to put work aside for a quick stress-relief break—evaporates.
I still make them lunch, but I convince Lydia to deliver it, telling her that Ford will be happy to see her during a quick break from work.
We make our own lunch and return to watching movies, including some Disney films I haven’t seen in forever.
It’s nice to watch something and pretend I had a proper childhood—parents who managed money responsibly and showered me with attention and love.
We watch Cinderella, and I do my best to hide the lump in my throat from Lydia.
My parents were never abusive like the stepmother, thank god, but it does feel like I’ve been working my ass off for very little reward all this time.
And now I’m at the ball, just like Cinderella.
She only went to have a good time—everyone forgets that.
She had no idea the man she danced with was a prince. She just wanted one fun night out.
I thought this trip would be enjoyable, that it would help secure my ticket to a better life. But now I’m dancing with three princes, and there could be serious consequences.
I can’t be the person who comes between them and ruins their friendship.
It’s not just their personal bond, although that would be devastating enough.
It’s also their business. If anything happens between the men—if they have any kind of falling out—then their entire company and all their employees, plus every other business that deals with them, will suffer.
I could be responsible for tens of thousands of people getting hurt. The thought makes me nauseated.
Maybe I’m overthinking this, giving myself too much importance. I’m not that special. But I’ve seen how people can become jealous over things that seem trivial. And attraction still means something, even between friends.
What if they all think they’re fine with sharing, but when the moment comes they realize it’s actually too difficult?
That they can’t stand seeing each other that way?
Then I’ll have ruined everything, all because of my own selfish desires, like some hormone-driven teenager who can’t control herself.
Especially right now, when the men need this Silver Start deal to go through.
I’m sure their company won’t collapse without it, but their hearts are clearly set on it.
I want this for them. Despite Gabriel’s talk about doing what we want, this isn’t about fun and games.
We’re not here for vacation. I’m here because I was hired to do a job.
For their sake and mine, I can’t let that be jeopardized. I need this money. They need this deal. I can’t allow any of it to be ruined.
You’re getting worked up over nothing , I tell myself as we clean up the room—folding blankets, fluffing pillows, tossing empty snack wrappers. These are grown men who can make their own decisions. If they think this is something they want and can handle, you should trust them.
But I can’t shake the awful feeling in my stomach, like curdled milk.
“Dinner!” Elaine calls, ringing a bell that carries throughout the massive house. Everyone instantly appears from wherever they’ve been hiding. Honestly, the bell makes perfect sense—it carries much better than her voice in a place this size.