Chapter 4 #2
She shrugged out of his grip and took three steps back.
“Stay out of my life, Jon. We’re friends, but you aren’t my keeper, and you aren’t going to ruin the one afternoon I get with everyone.
” She could feel her chest rise and fall in an ever-increasing rhythm and cursed the heat blooming over her fair skin, the telltale blush shouting her distress.
“Not this time, Margaret. I hardly see you anymore. Why?”
“Maybe I get tired of your girlfriends sneering at me from their great heights. Or maybe, you and I just aren’t as close as we once were.” All lies. Damn. Damn. Damn.
Jonathan’s jaw clenched. “What treatment did your mom have to have? Is she sick?”
Mags clenched her own jaw, creating lie number…who knew. “She got really sick with bronchitis and had to do breathing treatments. Jesus, nosy much? My family is not your concern.”
“The hell they aren’t,” he growled. “Why did you tell your mom you were starving and ordered two meals when you didn’t order anything but fucking water? What’s your answer to that, then?”
Save her from O’Faolain stubbornness. “Mom has missed me, and she enjoys hearing funny stories. Telling her that I was stuffed on scones and cream isn’t nearly as amusing as eating enough for a grown man. That’s it now, Jonathan. You’re going too far.”
“One more question. If you’re so stuffed to the gills, why do you look like you’ve dropped a full stone? You look sickly,” the prick added unnecessarily.
“My apologies for not having Jasmine’s glow. Without sounding like a broken record, I’m aware of your taste in women. You don’t need to list all the ways I don’t measure up. You made your distaste for what I have to offer clear a long time ago.”
Mags was furious now. Furious that he reduced her to defending herself. Doubly furious that she brought up that horror show of a New Year’s Eve kiss. Way to let him know she remembered it.
Without listening to another word from his infuriating mouth, she stormed past him and practically ran back to their friends’ table.
He eventually joined, a menacing look on his face, and a storm cloud encamped about his person.
Their friends kept eyeing him. Daniel, Jonathan’s first cousin and closest friend besides Ciar, whispered something in his ear, but Jonathan just shook his head.
In the meantime, they collectively agreed to ignore Jasmine and her snarky comments. Mags’ favorite, “I’m bored, baby.” Jonathan didn’t acknowledge her and, in fact, managed not to speak to anyone for the rest of the lunch, including his date.
Mags was nursing her third water, dreaming of the ramen cup she’d be slipping in the gallery’s breakroom microwave the moment she returned home, when Blair caught her attention.
“Can I come see your new place today?”
Fuck my life.
“New place?” Bébhinn gasped. “What the hell?”
“Wait, what?” Gray asked.
“You were supposed to tell everyone, Mags,” Blair signed with a frown. “Mags has had her own place for almost three months now.”
Blair raised her brows in an “I never said I would lie for you” look. “Yeah, geez, sorry guys. Mir helped me find a place where I could live and work out of. Forgive me, guys. I should have told you that my bedroom was free. I’ve been so damn busy, I barely remember to brush my teeth lately.”
Bébhinn swept her apology away with the wave of a hand. “I don’t care about that. Dad bought the townhouse for me to use however my friends and I chose to use it. I’m just pissed you didn’t let me help you decorate your new place.”
“Me too, asshole!” Gray added.
“Why don’t we all go now,” Bébhinn said excitedly.
Mags hated shooting the idea down, but having her friends see the pallet on the floor and her clothes shoved in grocery bags screamed mortifying.
Her sewing machine, fabrics, stranded cotton, sketches, embroidery hoops, and patterns were perfectly arrayed, organized, and tidy. She was proud of her workspace and had taken several pictures of it for her website, neatly cutting out the bare surroundings.
She had gone to buy a cot soon after she’d moved in, because that wooden floor was as hard as stone. Unfortunately, after seeing the price of even that small piece of furniture, she couldn’t sign off on the expenditure until she was actually earning money.
She needed at least another month to make the space less tragic, though she knew she wouldn’t be able to put her friends off that long.
She could feel Jonathan’s angry glare drilling into her face, which she studiously ignored.
Why he was angry was anyone’s guess, though if she had to guess, he wasn’t happy that she’d brought up the kiss.
She never had before, and he probably would have been much happier had it stayed buried.
He needn’t worry, she sure as hell would never tell her friends about one of the worst, most embarrassing moments of her life.
“Sorry, guys. Today won’t work. I’ve got a few more long days ahead of me until I finish my first piece.
” She gave a “woohoo” and high-fived Gray.
“The client wants it for a luncheon next weekend. Plus, I haven’t had time to really buy much of anything for the place.
It really is mainly a work studio, which you’ve seen in those pictures on my website. ”
“It is a beautiful space,” Blair signed and smiled. “It looked like there was a ton of natural light. I know just the plants you’ll want.”
“I would love that, Blair.”
“Does everyone understand what the little girl is saying. I would be exhausted,” Jasmine interjected, derogatorily speaking about Blair, completely unable or unwilling to read her audience.
Blair pretended not to see what Jasmine had said, choosing to finish off the last few chips on her plate. Daniel, Ciar, and Dagr looked stonily in Jonathan’s direction, and Mags could tell he was about to tell his date off when she stood on her own.
“I’ve got to run. I’m meeting my bestie for massages.
Call me later, Jonathan, and I’ll come over.
I haven’t been to your place for weeks.” Jasmine tee-heed and was gross enough to wink.
“Oh, and Margaret, though I’m sure your clients are…
rustic, designers are usually more put together than,” she waved her hand up and down, indicating all of Mags, “whatever this is.”
Jonathan stood abruptly, his face red and his fists clenched at his sides.
“Jasmine, would you open your phone and go to your contacts for me?”
She was all smiles as she handed him her phone, opened to contacts like he’d asked.
He must have clicked on his, because the idiot woman actually cooed and said, “Oh, babe, if you’re going to change your name, make it something like Lover.”
He tossed her phone back, forcing her to fumble it before it almost hit the floor. “I deleted my contact information. Don’t ever come near my friends or me again.” When she hesitated, her mouth opening and closing but thankfully mute, he added, “Leave now.”
She finally stormed off with a huff. Jonathan remained standing to address the group.
“Sorry about that, everyone. She asked me to do something today, and I told her no because I was meeting my friends. I stupidly told her where we were meeting, though. She was waiting for me when I got here. I’ll be smarter in the future. ”
There were a few halfhearted “Whatever’s” to his apology. It seemed the group was over Jonathan’s bad taste, and Daniel’s, to be fair. Since the focus was off her flat, Mags decided to get while the getting was good.
Stepping past Jonathan, who was still stiffly positioned at the end of the table, Mags cheerily announced that it was past time she headed out.
“It was great to see everyone. I’ll let you know if my client adores my first commissioned piece.”
“The bitch better,” Gray said.
“If she doesn’t, I want her name,” Bébhinn added. “My mom and aunts taught me how to make a person suffer regrets.”
Blair got up then and elbowed Jonathan out of the way.
She shocked the hell out of Mags by hugging her close, leaving just enough room to sign privately.
“You’re hiding something. I’ll give you time, not much, but I’ll give you time to come clean.
I’m your friend, or I’m not. You trust me, or you don’t. ”
Mags could only nod once, too stiff with shock and denial. There it was, though. She should have known that nothing would get past Blair. When they separated, Dagr stopped her once again.
“I hope you can still make it to Gray Eyes Thursday night for Bébhinn’s charity dinner to raise money for Dublin’s orphanages,” he said while hugging his wife close.
“Everyone’s invited, including plus ones.
Feel free to bring a date, Mags. Bébhinn thinks you have a secret boyfriend.
We’d like to meet him if that’s the case. ”
“I am so excited,” Gray cheered. I have a new evening dress that I’ve yet to wear outside my bedroom.”
“Since I know you like the menu, Mags, I’ll expect you to be there,” Ciar smirked.
Mags had to smile despite the panic slowly stiffening her muscles. She’d made Ciar buy her dinner at his fancy pub months ago while he extracted information from her about Gray.
She had three distinct problems with the event.
First, she didn’t own a black-tie dress.
Second, she couldn’t afford even a potato at Gray Eyes, though it was her fervent hope that there would be plenty of free hors d’oeuvres.
Third, and it was surely redundant, she had no money to give to such an amazing cause.
Mags had known about the dinner for weeks. The miracle she’d been praying for to get her out of it had yet to present itself.
If she worked every spare moment, meaning no sleep at all, she could finish the last of the embroidery on Mrs. Lark’s blazer and hopefully deliver it late Wednesday night instead of Thursday like she’d originally planned.
If she could manage that, then after her shift at the chippers on Thursday, she could wrangle a bit of free time to get all fancied up.
Perhaps she could take a small percentage of her earnings to go to one of the swanky secondhand stores to find an appropriate dress. Many well-to-do women dropped off gowns that had been worn only once or twice.
Fingers crossed.
Before she escaped Murphy’s, some invisible devil on her shoulder had her saying, “I might bring my guy if he isn’t busy. No promises though.”
Oh shit. Mags, you idiot.