by Lily Kate
“What’d you do that’s more embarrassing than this?”
“Well, yesterday when he walked into the inn, we had this little tiff. He was all smooth and cool, and I looked like a moron.” I sigh, my face flaming with the memory. “Of course, I thought of all these super funny retorts while I was in the shower, and I wanted to use them on him. I almost knocked on his door.”
“Aw, Maggie.”
“Seriously,” I say with a dissatisfied nod. “I paced up and down the hallway for like fifteen minutes before I decided to give up on it.”
“Fine. You’re a chicken. Is that what you want to hear?”
I’m sure even my ears are red by now. “I just had this great image in my mind—you know, where Tyler opened the door, and I hit him with all the witty things I should’ve said in the moment.”
“And you chickened out.”
“No, I simply realized that wouldn’t be very professional of me. He’s staying at my inn; I owe him professionalism.”
“Right. Which is why you were so professional just now.”
“I was flustered.”
“Who is he to you, anyway? Why’s this bothering you so much?”
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can do so, Emily calls me to the front desk. “You’ve gotta see this, Maggie.”
My appetite has somewhat recovered by now, and if I don’t get a move on, my ice cream will melt before I get a taste of it. So, I grab my plate of cake and my mug, and I meet Emily at the front desk. “What is it?”
“Oh, thanks.” Emily steals the plate and slides it in front of her. She’s halfway through the slice before I can tell her it’s mine.
I note the concerned pout of Emily’s face between bites of my cake. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m annoyed! What just happened with you and Jax?”
“Uh, nothing? Morning chitchat over coffee?”
Emily looks up, her eyes narrowed on mine. “Well, whatever happened, it scared Tyler away, and we lost about three months of business.”
“What are you talking about?” I pause, trying to let this sink in further, but it doesn’t get very far. “I don’t understand.”
“Tyler registered for a three month stay. Said he’s here for business or whatever and couldn’t bear to stay with his mother.”
I roll my eyes. Mrs. Daniels is not hard to get along with, but Tyler could never handle living at home, so I’m not surprised. “And?”
“And he just cancelled as he stormed out of here!” Emily pummels the cake more furiously into her mouth. “He announced all stiff and quiet that he’d be checking out early.”
“How early?”
“After the weekend.”
“So what? Let him go. We’re not hurting for business.”
“We don’t want to make a habit of running away well-paying clients. He booked the most expensive room in the house.”
“We’ll get someone else to fill it.”
Emily narrows her eyes at me. “That’s not the point. We all know you and Jax are just friends...except Tyler, apparently. If that’s the reason he’s checking out early, maybe you can correct his thoughts on it.”
“Why does it matter to Tyler who Jax is to me?”
“Seems to me like Tyler got jealous back there and doesn’t want to see you fawning over someone that’s not him for the next three months.”
“I’m not fawning over anyone, except that slice of cake you stole from me.”
“Would it kill you to set the record straight with him?”
“I don’t owe him an explanation!” My voice raises, and it takes me a second to cool down. “It’s not like he ever explained himself to me.”
“Is that what this is about?”
“No.” I sulk. “I’m over the past.”
“Right. Which is why you’re reacting completely logically over this.” Emily punches a few things into the computer before she stands and sighs. “Please talk to him.”
I cross my arms, feeling like a petulant child. I want to stomp my foot, but that’s Mila’s job. However, since she’s off at school, I figure I can absorb a little of the whiny attitude that appears when she doesn’t get her way. “If he doesn’t want to stay here, I’m not going to force him to keep his room booked.”
“Honey, this inn isn’t your business, alone,” Emily says. “It’s our business, and Claire’s. So, put your emotions aside and act in the best interest of the stakeholders.”
There’s a tingling at the back of my neck that has me wondering if there’s more to the story than Emily’s letting on. I size her up more thoroughly and decide she’s holding out on me. “What am I missing?”
“Nothing,” Emily says, but her eyes flash away. “I just think we should work on retaining customers, not running them away.”
“Fine!” I raise my hands. “I’ll mention something to him before the weekend.”
“I’ve arranged for chocolates on his bed and warm lavender hand towels to be delivered to his room,” Emily says. “Maybe you can deliver the towels tonight...personally. With an apology.”
“I think I’ve thrown enough towels in his face for one day.”
Emily’s mouth cracks open. “Okay, what?”
“It was Jax’s fault.”
“Was not,” Jax calls back. “I tossed the rag to Maggie and she ducked. Ducked!”
“I don’t see why it’s so important, anyway,” I tell her, leaning against the front desk. “He’s just a warm body sleeping here and paying us money. Any other warm body is one and the same. If it’s not him, it’ll be someone else.”
“I think you’re being irrational.” Emily crooks an eyebrow up. “I think you can’t resist Tyler Daniels’s warm body, which makes you scared. You’re going to let him run away so you don’t end up sleeping with him.”
She hisses the last part, and I visibly recoil. “Sleeping with Tyler? No. He’s not on my To-Do list.”
“Admit it, you just thought about it.”
I open my mouth to argue, but it’s true. The thought of Tyler Daniels with no shirt on, possibly holding a piece of chocolate cake, is the sexiest thing I can imagine. “That’s exactly why it’s best for him to not stay here.”
“Would it be so bad?” Emily asks. “I mean, you’re clearly still crazy about the guy. And you haven’t had sex in what... six years?”
At this, Jax’s eyes widen, and I feel the color returning to my cheeks. Loudly, I hiss at him, “This is none of your business. Go back to cooking.”
Emily coughs. “I think—”
“Enough of what you think.” I reach over Emily to answer the phone that’s just begun to ring. “Hello, Lilac Inn this is Maggie.” I hesitate a moment, hearing a familiar voice that I can’t quite place over the line. “Wait, my Mila?” My pulse freezes as the secretary from Mila’s school announces herself along with some alarming news. “No, that can’t be right...sure, I’ll be right there.”
As I set the phone down, I feel my brow furrow in confusion. Emily, like the brilliant friend that she is, forgets all about the inn and immediately turns her concern to Mila. “What’s wrong? Is she okay? Why do you look so confused?”
“Mila’s fine,” I say slowly. “I think.”
Emily blinks. “Then why are you looking like a ghost?”
“The principal’s secretary called to tell me that Mila’s been in a fight.”
“Like, a fist fight?” Emily asks. “That’s impossible. Mila’s the sweetest thing this inn has ever seen. And we have cake.”
Emily holds up her empty plate, and Jax sees it as a sign for a refill. Despite his faux-annoyance at feeding us, I secretly believe he enjoys nothing more than the insatiable appetites of Emily and myself. But this time, even Jax looks concerned.
“Did you say Mila was in a fight?” he asks, strolling over to join us. “That’s impossible.”
“That’s what I said!” I agreed. “But the principal needs me to come down there and deal with it—whatever that mea
ns.”
“Did she win?” Jax asks. “I bet she won. She’s a sweet thing, but she can hold her own.”
“That’s not important.” I glare at him. “What’s important is that Mila was allegedly in a fight! I mean, who would fight with my baby? Someone else had to have started it.”
“I bet she won,” Emily agrees over my shoulder with Jax. “The girl is an athletic marvel, and she’s only six.”
Jax nods proudly. “I taught her how to throw a punch.”
“Why would you ever do that?” I ask, turning to him. “She’s cut off from you. All of you.”
“I’m kidding,” Jax says. “Though I did teach her how to throw a football.”
“Go,” Emily says, steering me toward the door. “We’ll hold the fort down. And remember to breathe. I’m sure it’s fine—it’s probably all a misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding,” I say, thinking of Mila, and Jax, and Tyler. “A morning of misunderstandings.”
“Mila first, then Tyler,” Emily says. “We’ll sort this all out.”
Chapter 5
MAGGIE
Sort this all out, my ass! I fume on the way to school.
What’s it to Tyler if I’m involved in a happy, healthy relationship? I’m not, of course, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t be. If things had worked out differently with Mila’s father, maybe I would be in some sort of a relationship, even if it wasn’t a perfect one.
Did he really think I’d wait around for him all this time, especially after he left without a word and no follow up contact? The thought makes me irrationally angry, and I have a moment of weakness while I picture dumping those lavender hand towels on his head this evening.
Taking a deep breath, I focus on the road, and on Emily. She’s right about the business side of things. I shouldn’t be doing things to send our customers running. And if I had done something wrong, I might feel bad about it. In this case, I didn’t, and that’s what bothers me. I hate having to grovel for Tyler’s business over something that’s really not my fault. Except for the towel. I can scrounge up an apology for the wet cloth to the head.
But, I’ll try to get him to reconsider staying for Emily. With gritted teeth, I’ll deliver those hand towels and ask Tyler Daniels—the guest of our inn—if there’s anything I can do to change his mind. It should be easy to focus on business; after all, I am a professional.
My Bluetooth signals an incoming call, distracting me for the moment. I answer with a grimace. “Hey, mom, what’s up?”
“That’s how you greet your mother?” Mrs. Marshall has, without a doubt, perfect etiquette. My simple pleases and thank-yous will never be enough to impress her, but today she doesn’t have time to dwell on me. “I’m hearing rumors about Mila. Are they true?”
“What rumors?”
“Did Mila get in a fight at school this morning?”
I nearly careen off the road. “Mother! How can you possibly know about that?”
There’s dead silence as I ease the car back between the yellow lines.
“Well,” she says with a dramatic sigh. “I suppose that’s to be expected.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve warned you about this—about Mila falling in with the wrong crowd. She doesn’t have a strong father figure, you know, and that’s just not right. A young mother needs a husband, and a little girl needs her father. I know you thought your father was strict, but at least he was there for you.”
“Thanks, mom,” I say, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel and doing my best to tune out the familiar argument. “I wasn’t aware of your thoughts on the matter.”
“Sarcasm is not a pretty look on you, Margaret.”
“Are you ever going to call me Maggie?”
“I named you Margaret for a reason; it’s a beautiful name.”
“It’s old-fashioned.”
“It’s elegant and understated.”
“If only I’d inherited those same qualities, huh?” I ask, knowing my mother wishes I was more of a Margaret. Ironically, the name sets off butterflies in my stomach because the only other person who seems to use it still is Tyler. “I know, I’m a bit of a letdown.”
“Self-deprecation is a crutch, Margaret. It’s not funny, and you know I don’t like it. I refuse to indulge you.”
“Well, I don’t like you always criticizing my parenting style! Mila is a wonderful, loving girl, and we’re doing just fine on our own. We don’t need your input on every decision in our lives, and we most certainly don’t need a man around—Mila has plenty of great influences in her life.”
“The inn is temporary, Margaret. They are not your family no matter what you say. One day, you’ll move on, or they’ll move on, and you’ll be all alone. Again.”
I grit my teeth and hover my finger over the hang-up button. “I have to go, mother.”
“Are you at the school now? If Mila’s been fighting...”
“Goodbye, mother.”
I slide from the car, annoyed at how much my mother’s phone calls and visits get to me. A long time ago, I realized that I would never be her ideal picture of a daughter, so I gave up trying. I focused on becoming me—Maggie Marshall—instead of the glorified Margaret my mother had pictured.
I’m happy with the outcome, but my mother is still struggling to reconcile her dreams for me with the reality of who I am. After my father’s death, her meddling only grew worse. It’s been over ten years since he passed away. His loss was hard on both of us, and my mother’s way of coping seems to be taking control of my life.
As I sign in at the school office, I’m doubly upset by the way my mother refers to the inn as if it’s this fickle thing—a place that might not be around tomorrow. Years ago, the inn was the only place I found that’d hire me, let me work and live in the same location, and support myself and a new baby. All because of Emily and Claire.
The inn has been more to me than a job, and the people who work there are more than friends. Hence the reason my mother’s insinuations that it won’t last are hurtful; it breaks my heart to think things won’t always stay the same.
If I could freeze life today—the way it is now—I would. I would eat Jax’s food forever while Emily directed troops from the front desk. I’d want Mila to wiggle her way up to the reception desk and learn English words with Luca while he scolds her intermittently for answering the phone. I’d want Lelia to fuss at Mila for jumping on the freshly made bed, and then watch as the two used lavender-scented towels like face masks, making Mila giggle and grin with impish delight.
This isn’t how I’d pictured family life. I’d pictured the house, the husband, the pack of kids, and the loving warmth that went with it. But life took unexpected twists and turns, and here we are.
It helps to focus on the positives as I drag myself toward the principal’s office. This is the same school I attended years ago—Westley, the elementary school that feeds into the high school where I’d met Tyler Daniels, trouble-maker extraordinaire.
I’m in the middle of working myself up over the memories this place holds when I reach the principal’s office and poke my head into the waiting room. I’ve been here before, and I know the receptionist, Shonda, quite well. She’s got skin the color of a latte and a sense of fashion straight off the New York runway. The woman’s nails are a work of art in themselves, and if I ever have a real date, or an event that requires dressing up, I might pay the principal’s office a visit.
“Hi, Shonda, I’m here to see...” The sound of a throat clearing stops me dead in my tracks. I turn slowly and come face to face with a familiar build. “Tyler?”
“Well, look who it is.” Tyler doesn’t bother to stand, instead surveying me with a critical eye. “What brings you here, Miss Marshall? Is it still Marshall? Or are you married, now?”
“Do you two know each other?” Shonda asks, raising a beautifully manicured fingernail as she sweeps it around the room.
“Extensively,” he s
ays.
“I can step out if you need a minute,” she says, glancing between us.
“I have no problem with you staying,” Tyler says. “There’s no hard feelings from me.”
“Really?” I step forward, all of the stress from my mother, the inn, the news of Mila fighting at school bubbling up, and suddenly, I’m ready for my own fight. “Because it didn’t look that way when you stormed out of the inn this morning.”
“I didn’t storm anywhere. I walked quickly; I had places to be.”
“Where, school? Aren’t you a little old to be sitting in the principal’s office?”
“I could say the same for you, Margaret.”
“Margaret?” Shonda raises her eyebrows. “I always thought of you as a Maggie.”
“I am a Maggie,” I tell her. “It’s just this...this man seems to be stuck in the past. He’s a little slow on the uptake.”
“A little slow?” Tyler rises to his feet. “No, I don’t think so. I know exactly who you seem to think you’ve become, Maggie, and I don’t like it. What happened to the Margaret I used to love?”
“Yep.” Shonda stands, hikes a super-fashionable purse up her shoulder, and trots out on a pair of heels that send her height skyrocketing to the moon. “That’s my cue to leave. Have fun, y’all, and please don’t throw things. Principal McNeal hates when the children throw things.”
“We’re not children!” Both Tyler and I say this at the same time, causing the three of us to all freeze and look at one another.
“Well, this is awkward.” Shonda gives us one last look as she closes the door behind her. “Bye.”
“I’m not a child, anymore, Tyler,” I tell him, my voice thin icicles. I can see them pricking at his cool exterior, but I don’t care. Better to clear the air now so we know where we stand. “Please don’t treat me like I am one.”
“I can see you’re not a child.” Tyler pauses, gives a glance toward my chest, my hips, and if I’m not mistaken, it seems to halt his breath for a minute. Finally, he returns his focus to my face. “But you haven’t let go of our childhood mistakes.”
“You weren’t a child when you left.”
“I was in college! It’s not exactly the time men are known to make their best life choices.”
