“No offense taken,” he said.
But he didn’t leave or change seats after the bartender brought him his martini. Maggie wished she could ping her own phone with a false emergency.
Tyler took a loud swallow, and sighed, almost blissfully.
“You know,” he said to her, “I can remember a time when the two of us used to get along.”
“I can’t.”
“Good one,” he said.
“So how you doing, really?” he said, with his usual self-awareness of a fence post.
“Fine.”
“Can’t believe you’re out of the top four,” he said. “I figured you’d have locked up your spot on the team already.”
She turned to him.
“I don’t want to talk about riding right now,” she said. “Mine, yours, anybody’s. I just want to finish my drink and head home.”
“Ask you something before you do?”
She sighed. “Sure,” she said. “Why not?”
“You ever worry that the parade might be passing you by?” he said. “When you’re young and in a slump like yours, you’re just in a slump. When you’re old and in a slump, you’re old.”
“Thanks so much for that,” she said.
“It’s no crime to lose it,” he said. “Have the parade pass you by.”
Did he just say that?
“Never happen to you, I’m guessing,” Maggie said.
Cullen snorted out a laugh.
“Hell, no,” he said. “You might not like me. But you know how I can ride. I’m the guy who stays up there even without the million-dollar horses. You know that’s what they say about me.”
“And what are they saying about me?” she said. “I have a feeling you’re dying to tell me.”
“Can I be honest?”
“No,” Maggie said. “Lie to me, Tyler.”
Why am I still here?
“They’re saying that you’re not up to this anymore,” he said.
“Is that so.”
“You asked,” he said. “It happens to everybody eventually. And it might happen to me someday.” He plucked an olive out of his martini and ate it. “When I’m the one getting up there.”
She had a sudden urge to slap him.
Then his phone pinged. He showed impressive speed getting it out of his pocket.
“Gotta run,” he said. To the bartender he said, “Her drink’s on me,” before throwing down what Maggie saw was a fifty.
As he began to walk away, Maggie grabbed him by the arm, more roughly than she’d planned. It seemed to startle him.
“You’re not getting my ride,” she said.
Maybe it was the way she said it. Or what he saw in her face. Or both. But he shook his head, shook loose his arm, and kept going, never looking back.
She had come here to be alone. Mission accomplished, she thought, as she looked out the front window and saw Tyler get into his Mercedes convertible and pull out of the lot. Because she felt as alone as she ever had.
The bartender came over and said, “I couldn’t help but hear some of your conversation with that guy. He was talking some shit.”
“Only because he is one,” Maggie said.
When she was back in the Range Rover, she pounded the wheel again, harder than before, as if trying to drive it through the dashboard.
In that moment, she knew where she was going. Where she needed to be. Drove over there fast. Pulled into the driveway, up the walk, rang the doorbell.
When Gus Bennett opened the door she looked down at him and said, “I don’t want to go home tonight.”
NINETY-SIX
Maggie
GUS WAS STILL SLEEPING when Maggie opened her eyes the next morning. Still on his back. Snoring slightly. She looked over at him and thought: Maybe what happened between them had been inevitable, had been happening for a long time without either of them acknowledging the depth of the feelings they had for each other. Until now.
Then she felt herself smiling as she suddenly remembered one of Becky’s favorite books, one that Maggie used to read to her before they’d started reading it together.
Oh, the places you’ll go.
She hadn’t come here thinking she and Gus would sleep together. But after leaving the Trophy Room she just couldn’t bear the thought of going back to the empty house, Tyler’s words like some bad song she couldn’t get out of her head. When she was inside the house, Gus had asked if she wanted a drink. She’d told him white wine would be just fine. He’d told her that her options were beer or whiskey. She’d said whiskey. He’d poured them both a glass. She had told him about Tyler showing up at the bar and what he’d said to her. Gus had responded that he wasn’t worth the time or trouble, they already knew what kind of weasel he was, they didn’t need more proof.