Chapter 17
seventeen
MAGS
Two weeks had passed since Dagr and Bébhinn’s charity event and their big announcement.
With all their closest friends—and Eze, whom everyone instantly approved of except for Jonathan—gathered around them in Gray Eyes’ high-stakes poker room, the happily married couple announced that they were expecting a baby.
Everyone went wild with congratulations. No wonder Bébhinn chose a charity that provided shelter and love for children. Mags was still tingling with excitement for her friends. Another child to love on, as if Gray and Ciar’s little ones, Colm and Imogen, weren’t amazing enough.
Mags looked at herself in the mirror as the hot air from her blow dryer filtered through her dark brown waves.
She pinched herself every morning to prove that she was truly living in such an amazing flat with an amazing friend instead of sleeping on an attic floor and being lonely.
Her clientele was ticking up every week as well.
She and Eze had become closer, and Mags would be forever thankful that she’d taken that job at the chippers because she’d made a lifelong friend from it.
He surprised her by turning in both of their notices.
He claimed that he used to need the monotony of the job to concentrate on the theories running through his mind, but since she’d moved in, he felt more clarity and had enough peace now to sit on his living room couch and let his mind wander where it would.
With the money she saved by living with Eze, she was able to devote her energy to her business. She quit her job at the elderly care facility to free up even more time, but kept the bartending gig because it was only two nights a week and the tips were crazy good.
They’d compared notes a few nights ago about the men they were trying to make have regrets.
In her case, she wanted to get over the man and for Jonathan to have regrets.
Nasir watched her with an unforgiving glare.
Eze pretended not to see Nasir’s pain-filled eyes following him, but he’d admitted that it went a long way to soothing his wounded pride.
Jonathan—he was more complicated.
It was hurtful and infuriating in equal parts that he was attempting to, what, pursue her? He had done everything to show her that he didn’t think of her as girlfriend material, or even worthy of a date. Was this about making amends for the kiss and how he behaved afterward?
She shook her head at her reflection. “Let it go, already, Jon.”
Whatever his reasoning, she knew it was in her best interest to ignore his newest nonsense and protect her heart.
Jonathan was the one man who could really hurt her. He’d proven the ability over and over and over again. She was mature enough now to understand that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. Not since after the one kiss they’d shared, anyway.
She was the one who’d allowed her heart to be pummeled and broken. She was fixing her past mistakes now and moving on. She might still long to feel his hands on her skin and his mouth devouring hers, but she’d become an expert at pretending where he was concerned.
She had two errands to run before she could go to the gallery for the day. With that in mind, she dabbed clear gloss on her lips and grabbed her coat and purse before hurrying out of her room.
Eze had just opened the front door, about to leave for Trinity, when he saw her walking toward him.
Eze’s lips barely lifted, but Mags could see mischief brewing in his dark eyes. Her eyes flicked briefly to the hallway behind the open door and saw Abeo and Nasir standing at attention.
Let the games begin.
“How many classes do you have today?” she asked, coming to stand before him. His body was angled just enough that the men in the hall would see their profiles.
“Two and a study group. And where are you off to?” While he spoke, he took one of her hands in his and brought it to rest against his solid chest. “Busy day?” he asked her.
“Fabric shop. I need a few more colors for your mother’s fan.
” She hadn’t let him see any of the progress yet.
Too bad he didn’t know she had the piece in an embroidery hoop in her tote.
She’d worked the last few nights on it once she went to bed.
“I also have to drop a pair of scissors off at the sharpeners, then the gallery for the rest of the day.”
“Are we still going to the gallery to see the artist your sister signed to Smith next week? I was going to make sure my schedule was clear at work.”
“Yes,” she grinned. “Mirren is so excited. She’ll be here this evening. She has to meet the artist one more time before the show to finalize placement. Thank you so much for letting her stay here.”
Mags finally had to come clean about some of the changes in her life to her sister. The most crucial update that affected Mirren’s visit was her change of address. Mags promised to explain everything that night.
“I was hoping you might be home in time to have dinner with us. We have a lot to catch up on, so I figured I’d just make dinner, and we could stay in.”
Eze attempted to hide his grimace, but he was no actor. “Eze, you ass! I burned one meal. One! Get over it.”
He chuckled. “I’ll be home, but only if Jol does the cooking.”
“Amen,” Jol shouted from the kitchen.
“Traitor,” Mags shouted back. “Fine. Have a good day, Eze.” When she went to pull her hand away from his chest, he tugged her closer with it. He looked at her and raised his brows in question. Oh my. He really wanted to put on a show this morning.
At her subtle nod, he bent slowly and kissed her. It was gentle and soft, tender and surprisingly romantic as their lips melded and their tongues tentatively touched. When it ended, they both looked surprised.
Eze cleared his throat and stepped back, running a hand down his button-up. Turning his head sharply to the men waiting beyond, he said, “Abeo, you will drive me today. Nasir, you will help Margaret with her errands and ensure that she gets to the gallery safely.”
Mags choked on her own saliva. “That isn’t necessary.” She pinched his arm to let him know he was going a touch too far with the make Nasir jealous plan.
“Just making sure you don’t fall down any more stairs.”
Without another word, Eze walked briskly out the door, Abeo in his wake, leaving her awkwardly alone with Nasir. Pasting on a smile she didn’t feel, she said, “Looks like it’s the two of us today, then.
Mags: You could give a girl ideas after a kiss like that. I think my safety is the last thing on Nasir’s mind after that stunt.
Eze: It wasn’t all for show.
Mags: Your Grim Reaper persona is false advertising. You are a good kisser.
Eze: My lips are still tingling. Never fear that Nasir’s feelings will get in the way of his job. He’s nothing if not professional.
Mags: See you tonight.
As Nasir hailed a cab to take them to the fabric store, she called her mother to check on how she was feeling. She told her about some of her new paying customers and about Mirren’s gallery party tomorrow night. Mags promised that she and Mirren would video call her that evening.
Mags tried several times to strike up a conversation with Nasir, but he chose to be blunt and snide every chance allowed. Sighing, she shifted her attention to the list of fabric and embroidery floss she needed to purchase.
Once the cab driver dropped them off at the fabric store, Mags turned to Nasir. “Here,” she handed him her best fabric shears, “the sharpeners are only around the corner. Please drop them off while I shop.”
She could tell he was about to argue, so she quickly shut down any argument. “I won’t leave this store until you’ve returned.”
He clenched his jaw in anger but turned to do her bidding. When he was only a few steps away, she couldn’t help but add, “I wonder if you cared half so much for Eze’s safety back in the day.” He paused and his shoulders stiffened, but he continued on.
Her phone pinged a notification right as she reached the store’s front entrance.
Jonathan: Will you meet me today?
Christ Almighty, he’d been asking that same question since the day after the charity event.
Mags: I’m working all day, and Mirren is coming into town tonight. I don’t know if you’re in some type of therapy that encourages apologies all around, but let me assure you, yet again. We have been friends since we were children, and we’re friends now. Nothing has changed.
Jonathan: Everything has changed.
Mags: Whatever epiphany you’ve had, keep it to yourself. We’ll meet up when all of our friends get together again.
Jonathan: Please, Mags.
She gritted her teeth and breathed deeply, trying for calm. Whatever his angle was, she wanted no part.
Jonathan: Tomorrow?
Mags: I’m working all day.
Jonathan: Tomorrow night?
Mags: I bartend Friday and Saturday until the wee hours of the morning.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Why did she tell him that? Too much information for a nosy O’Faolain.
Mags: Leave me alone, Jon. Honestly, this is getting old.
I’m sure you have a Rolodex full of willing women to live in your self-important bubble with you.
Don’t text me again about this, or I will block you.
We are friends. We have only ever been friends.
Perhaps you should review the lessons you’ve been dishing out to me for years.
The rules have been crystal clear since that New Years.
Mags turned her phone off and shoved it into her tote, vowing to herself to put Jonathan O’Faolain’s bullshit behind her.
An hour later, she and Nasir were entering the gallery’s back entrance, silently, of course, since Nasir refused to engage in so much as a comment about the weather.
Before she’d taken four steps, Nasir’s strong arm had wrapped around her waist and swung her behind him. And then she saw what he had. “Damn it.” It was a dead cat broken on the top step and partially lying over the top landing outside her door.
The hair on her body stood like frozen soldiers, and her breathing became choppy the longer her eyes raked over the poor, black-haired creature.
Mags laid her hand on Nasir’s forearm. “It’s okay. This type of thing has happened a few times since I’ve worked here. I let the gallery manager know that there must be a structural issue allowing all the animals in.
“This poor girl must have fallen or something,” she added, while looking up at the high wooden beams. Even though a cat falling to its death did seem highly unlikely. Still…
“Let’s get you and your packages inside, Miss Morrow, then I will dispose of the carcass.”
“Oh, you don’t have to, Nasir. Let me drop my bags off upstairs, and then I’ll do it. I’m sure you’ve had enough of babysitting me.”
He only watched her, expressionlessly. She sighed at his continued silence.
He was taller than Mags, but not as tall as Eze or Jonathan.
Still, he appeared lean and strong, with a strong face and lovely high cheekbones.
His complexion was paler than most Nigerians she’d encountered, and his eyes were a lovely greenish brown.
He waited until she entered the attic before he bent to pick up the poor cat. Christ, Mags shuddered, the amount of death on her stairs was becoming creepy as hell.