Prologue
MAGGIE
“So, it’s really over?” Serena asked as she deposited our beverages of choice, then slumped into the chair across from mine at Once Upon a Brew, the small independent bookstore-slash-coffee shop she owned.
It had been—I looked down at my watch—seventeen hours, eight minutes, and approximately thirty-six seconds since I’d thrown the philanderer out of our home, and onto his ass. But my girls weren’t yet aware of the nuts and bolts of it all.
Nuts, ha! There’d been one too many pairs of those in my love-story-gone-wrong, that was for sure!
“Yeah, it’s over,” I mumbled as I cradled my cup of tea and savored the sweet and spicy scent of chai as if it would offer the fortification I would need to delve into last night’s clusterfuck.
Alice, the final member of our friend trifecta, who’d already been sitting across from me when Serena joined us, leaned closer, her chin cradled in her hand, fingers drumming lightly against her cheek in a classic display of impatience.
Who knew how many cups of Joe the woman had already consumed today?
Seeing as she was a creature of habit and was up at the crack ass of dawn, and considering it was barely one in the afternoon, she was probably marinating in at least seven cups of java by now and working on her eighth.
It was enough to make any coffee aficionado jittery like a jumping jellybean.
Alice’s dark chocolate brown stare turned assessing, concern and annoyance warring on her face.
“Not to diminish the quality of roast you produce, Serena Bean,” she said, her gaze never wavering from me, “but our girl here has some tea to spill, and it better not be the one you just served her.”
Serena rolled her eyes as she shook her head at our mutual friend’s antics.
“What I’d like to know is how this all happened as early as last night, yet we’re just hearing about it now.
” The moment I set my drink down, the woman reached out and grabbed my hand, giving it a supportive squeeze to accompany her sympathetic expression.
So I did just that—spilled the beans (or tea, what-have-you)—and told my best friends all about Elijah-the-cheater-Miller, my now ex-fiancé.
In all honesty, I probably should have guessed something was up when Elijah started bailing on our Tuesday date nights over the last three months.
Like an idiot, I fell for his vague explanations.
I mean, how many birthdays could John have, right?
And maybe I should have questioned him when the subtle whiff of perfume here and there would hit me on occasion whenever I sorted our laundry?
Or perhaps, I should have pushed harder for answers when Miso, Serena’s dog who we’d been dog sitting a few weeks ago while she was out of town, greeted me at our condo door with a sock I’d never seen before, one that certainly didn’t fit the man I was living with nor had it belonged to me, and it was not like we were using public laundry facilities.
No, instead, my aloof self had to proverbially be hit over the head by walking in on him, his pasty white ass on display as he pistoned, balls deep inside his favorite birthday buddy, John, fucking him into the mattress we’d shared for the last four years.
Yeah, I really was living life inside one of my own romcoms.
“But what about the perfume smell?” Serena asked.
Alice snorted, fixating on our friend. “For a woman with an astronomical collection of spicy romance wares dotting your store shelves, I’m shocked you haven’t picked up on the why.”
Serena stuck her tongue out at her as if they were back in first grade. “It’s more like my imagination is conjuring far too many alternatives to choose from.”
I smirked, not feeling much humor. “I wouldn’t know.”
Alice’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you wouldn’t know?”
I fixed my gaze on her, held her dark irises, then did the same to Serena’s blue ones before shrugging. “The man’s lucky he had an entire outfit, his wallet, and car keys when I kicked him out.”
“That’s my girl!” Serena cheered just as the bell over the entrance door tinkled. “Be right back,” she said, getting to her feet and disappearing behind the barista counter as a man of about our age lined up.
“So what’s next, then?” Alice asked. “The condo’s in his name, right?”
I nodded, biting my bottom lip as a tear slipped out, trailing slowly down my cheek.
“Well, I think it’s safe to say I’m done with men for a while, and I’d rather forget about my dream of the perfect white wedding and handsome groom.
Even though I cried most of the night, and took my rage out on his closet, I did some serious thinking. ”
“Can’t say I blame you,” Serena said as she rejoined us after finishing with her latest customer. “Come to any conclusions?”
Oh, had I ever! “Alice, I want to keep tomorrow’s appointment, but I want to drop those houses we were supposed to check out from the list. They were never me. Instead, I have another property I want to squeeze in if you can manage it,” I told my realtor friend.
Both women looked at one another with mirroring looks of confusion before they simultaneously turned my way.
“You sure?” Serena asked as Alice’s lips flattened into a frown.
“Maggie, maybe we should postpone,” she said.
I shook my head. “No,” I said firmly. “This isn’t an irrationally-made decision that came out of the blue, Alice.
That asshole’s taken four years from me and thought nothing but to squash something I’d dreamed about since I was a little girl.
I’ll be damned if I let him take this last big one from me, too.
” Firming my resolve, I rolled my shoulders back and sat tall.
For the first time in nearly twenty-four hours, I felt the bubble of excitement and joy my decision conjured within me.
“On the plus side, I’m the only one who gets a say in what I’m buying.
And in the meantime, I’ll allow you two to fight over who gets me on their couch until I close this next deal of mine. ”
The musty smell of dust and mildew assaulted me the moment the front door barely swung open with a loud creak.
“I can’t believe this is the place you’ve been the most excited to see,” Alice said before sneezing into her elbow. “It smells like a mausoleum in here, and it looks mildly better than one so far.”
I rolled my eyes at her dramatics as I snuck past her, making my way deeper into the large foyer.
To my right, I was met with what must have been a parlor room, converted into what seemed to be a library.
To my left, a formal dining room, by the looks of the crumpled antique table that stood on its only intact leg and faux candle chandelier, missing most of its dangling crystals.
“This place is worse than I thought,” Alice groaned as soon as she’d proceeded past the hallway, deeper into the bowels of this sprawling 1910 stone Tudor country home. “They even took the fucking light switch covers!”
A chuckle escaped me. It wasn’t uncommon for places like this, once abandoned much like this estate currently was, to be broken into and items pilfered and used as replacement parts for other restored properties.
This was something Alice knew all too well, too, but in her defense, the woman had a habit of staying away from anything built before 1970.
“Look beyond the dirt, grime, and the missing stuff, Alice,” I sighed as my feet continued their journey throughout the main floor, making their way to the far-right side, into what looked like the main master bedroom if the solid oak four-poster bed was anything to judge by.
Passing it, I entered what ended up being an ensuite bathroom, fully donned with a cast iron claw foot tub I just knew would be the crowning jewel of the space once refinished.
“This place is everything I’ve dreamed of.
” And dream of it I had. Ever since I’d spotted the property listing online a week ago, it seemed it was the only thing that dominated my waking thoughts.
That and the fact I was now what one would consider a jilted bride whose love of her life had turned out gay.
Or bi. Or… Oh, who the hell cares at this point!
She met my gaze with one of disbelief. “What is there to see, a money pit?”
“Ha!” I hurried back toward the bedroom, then peered out its large French doors to what must have once been one hell of a beautiful flagstone terrace. It took quite a bit of muscle, but I managed to get the door open wide enough for me to shimmy out sideways.
“This is a dream,” I whispered, admiring the massive planters I could already picture holding fragrant blooms that would add color and life to the property.
To the right of the slightly elevated terrace, a garden that was choked out by brush and weeds hugged the retaining wall, all the way around to the side of the house.
“Oh goodie!” I clapped with excitement, pointing to the left, right off the terrace, as I carefully stepped down the two steps to the ground level. “There’s a freaking pool!”
It was official, I was a goner.
The house was sold. Well, so long as my offer was accepted.
My best friend, however? It would take me some time to win her over on my upcoming purchase, but I would. In time.