“Hey, Pete. You got my five bucks?” Silas asked.
“How about first round’s on me?” Pete offered.
“Even better,” Silas told him. “Come on, Mags.”
“Do you have a gambling problem?” she asked. “You sure seem to make a lot of bets.”
“Life’s more interesting when there’s something at stake,” he said, leading her to one of the deck doors at the back and opening it for her. The smell of lake water and citronella hit her, and for just a second, she was twelve years old all over again. Memories, short but sweet, swirled around her like a favorite sweater.
She stepped outside just as a breathy voice called, “Sy!” A woman—a girl, really—in an apron jogged up to him, her long, blond ponytail swinging. Her flawless cheeks were flushed pink, and she had the biggest, bluest eyes Maggie had ever seen. This was exactly the kind of girl Maggie hadn’t been in high school. No acne, voluminous hair, and an overflowing self-confidence that compelled her to bound up to the cutest guy in school and expect him to like her.
“Heard you and Michelle broke up.” Bubbly Blonde hooked an eyebrow expectantly.
Silas looked at Maggie and then back at Bubbly. “We did,” he said.
“You should have called me. Didn’t I tell you to call me if you two ever split for good?”
“Well now, that wouldn’t have been fair to Michelle,” Silas said. He looked at Maggie again and then took her hand. “Or Maggie. Mags, meet Arabella. Bella, meet Maggie.”
“Hi, Arabella. It’s nice to meet you.”
Arabella wasn’t nearly as excited to see Maggie. “Oh. Hi,” the girl replied flatly.
Score one for the late bloomer. Maggie Nichols had something the cool girl wanted. Being in such a position of power made her feel magnanimous.
“Don’t worry,” Maggie said with a wink. “I’m only in town for a few weeks.”
Hope must bloom eternal in Arabella, she guessed, because the girl brightened.
“See you around, Bella,” Silas said, dragging Maggie away.
“I like your shoes,” Arabella called after them, pointing at Maggie’s boots.
“Thank you.”
It wasn’t crowded on the deck. Just a few couples enjoying the early start to their evening and a group of twenty-somethings talking over each other about their white water rafting. Silas pulled her to a table on the upper section of decking. The lake, an unbelievable blue-green, stretched out before them in a bowl of gently rolling hills.
“Well, that was fun,” she teased, taking a seat and snatching the drink menu out of its holder.
He shook his head. “I do not know what’s gotten into that girl. I’ve known her since she was born practically.”
The bourbon barrel porter on the list caught her eye. She slid the menu across the teak table to him and leaned back in her chair. “I could hazard a guess.”
“I really don’t want to spend our third date talking about other people.”
“Third date? Things certainly seem to be moving along,” she quipped.
“You’re taking things slow and being respectful,” he explained. “But if you play your cards right tonight, I might just let you kiss me.”
Maggie’s quick inhale sucked saliva into her lungs, and she started coughing.
“You all right?” he asked.
She nodded, still coughing.
“Totally. Fine,” she rasped.
Well, the cool-girl thing had been nice while it lasted. It was good to remember that deep down she was still the kind of gal who would choke on her own spit in public.
“Can I get you a water?”
Her eyes were watering too much to make out the server who had heroically appeared. At least it wasn’t Bubbly Arabella.
“Two waters, Sean,” Silas said.
“And a bourbon porter,” she managed to gasp between coughs.
“Make it two,” Silas said.
Lungs finally spittle-free, Maggie dabbed at her eyes with her sleeves. “So, come here often?” She sounded as if she’d just escaped a serial strangler.
He was watching her in that curious, appreciative way of his that had probably been turning women into active members of the Silas Wright Fan Club for decades. “You’re quite a woman, Maggie,” he said.
Their drinks arrived, and while Silas ordered the mystical finger steaks, Maggie—carefully—sucked down some water to soothe her throat. When the teenage server left, she pointed an accusatory finger at her dinner date. “See. That right there is exactly why Bubbly Arabella actually believed you’d call her.”