Accidental Fiancé (Unintentionally Yours #5)

3. Maggie

Chapter 3

Maggie

“ E mma, Harmony. Hi.” I knew the walls weren’t actually closing in on me, but that did nothing to stop the feeling.

Emma Gonzalez was still one of the prettiest people I’d ever met in person. Jet black curly hair that sat perfectly at her shoulders the way I wished my curls would. Whenever my hair was cut short like hers, it just frizzed out instead of laying tame. A long time ago, I might have asked her for the secret to well-managed curls, but those days were long gone.

When she first came to Rosewood, we were friends for about two weeks. But then she figured out I was not on the top tier of the social hierarchy when Chloe came around to make fun of my discount store notebook. Emma and I drifted apart after that, but she was always kinder to me than any of the so-called cool kids. Not kind enough to stand up for me, but she never piled on like the others did.

Her smile was genuine when she spoke. “Hey, Maggie.”

“Maggie, hi,” Harmony said, brown eyes glowing with malice. “Heard about your little bakery. That’s too bad, honey. I’m sure it would have been a big success.”

All thoughts dried up in my head. My voice went hoarse. “What?”

She shrugged, smirking at Chloe. “No secrets among friends.”

Chloe smiled. “That’s right, Maggie. No secrets. So, was it for the insurance money? You can tell us.”

My head swirled. I wasn’t even sure what she was asking. “I don’t… huh?”

“Well, I mean, come on. Fires don’t start by accident.”

Emma said nothing. She just sipped her champagne and looked uncomfortable.

The fire had been one of the worst days of my life. All that work. All that hope. The freedom my bakery had offered was gone. Every drop of my sweat and tears couldn’t put out that raging fire, no matter how hard I tried to stop it. I stood there, crying with a garden hose, hoping that somehow it would be enough after the extinguishers had been exhausted.

The firefighters said they were lucky to put it out before it spread to the buildings next door. Even now, I could still smell the smoke. Flour had a distinct smell when burning. Kind of flat and sour. Not quite like bread, but almost. These days, burnt toast smells like cremated dreams.

It had only been a few months since I’d lost my bakery, and I had been struggling financially ever since. But I couldn’t tell them that. Why give them more ammunition? I was already the butt of their jokes.

Still, I tried to find my voice again. “Flour is… it’s flammable. And combustible. When you see flour puffing around a bakery at three in the morning during deliveries, that’s the most vulnerable time. When the bags are being dragged in it’s almost impossible to keep the flour from leaking out. It’s too fine. So, it ends up hanging in the air. And when it’s suspended in the air like that, all it takes is the wrong spark at the wrong moment, and there goes your dreams.”

Chloe’s wild stare darted over my face. “And I’m sure the fat insurance payment made up for that, right?”

“No,” I rasped. “It didn’t.”

She clicked her tongue at me. “You were always so dramatic, Maggie.”

“I need a drink,” I said, starting for the bar.

But she draped her arm around my shoulders, stopping me. “You don’t need any more wrinkles. Stay here. You’ll thank me later. Anyway, I’ve already told you about my selfless volunteering. Emma is also giving back, in her own little way.”

Maybe talking to Emma would take some of the attention off of me. “What are you doing?”

“Teaching English. At RHS, actually.”

“Oh. Um, congratulations.” Great. Just what the school needs. Mean girl teachers.

“I love it. Seeing kids improving their critical thinking skills through literary analysis…” A dreamy look appeared in her eyes, and suddenly the ache in my chest doubled.

I remembered the way professional pride felt, and I missed it so badly that I could have bawled right then and there.

“It’s the best feeling,” she went on. “Shaping young minds, knowing I’m making my mark on the next generation of thinkers?—"

“I’d hardly say you’re shaping minds,” Chloe cut in, chuckling. “You’re a high school English teacher, Emma. Calm down. You’re not curing cancer.”

Emma gave a tight smile to Chloe, and I wondered whether she thought sitting at the popular kids’ table in high school was worth this. As much as I had envied her back in the day, I was grateful for my outcast status. I couldn’t imagine putting up with Chloe by choice as an adult.

Wait. Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing right now? Screw this. What would Nora do? Think. I was done being steamrolled by Chloe, and I hated seeing her do it to anyone else, even if we weren’t friends. “Emma, you look like you could use another glass of champagne.”

“I just got this one?—"

I snatched it from her hand and downed the thing in one shot, before handing it back. “Nope, you need another. Let’s go to the bar.”

She laughed. “Oh. Okay.”

Once I took the lead, Harmony and Chloe followed, Chloe whining about calories and wrinkles the whole time. How had she made it this far in life without someone teaching her to be better? I could never understand that. Maybe her parents tried, or maybe they were worse.

From the urge to demonstrate good manners for Chloe, I asked Harmony, “What are you doing these days?”

“I’m working in pharmaceuticals.”

Chloe laughed. “You’re an office manager, Harm.”

“And a part-time pharma rep,” she insisted. “It counts.”

We ordered drinks, and even Chloe got a white wine spritzer, much to my surprise. The four of us strolled back to where we’d been standing before—a table against the middle of the far wall. I asked Emma and Harmony, “So, are you two seeing any?—"

“Enough about them,” Chloe interrupted me. “Who wants to dance?”

I hated dancing. “Yeah, no, I think I’m gonna go?—"

“You can’t go yet,” Emma cut me off. “You just got here.”

“Sunk-cost fallacy,” I countered. “Leaving a situation is always valid, no matter how much time you’ve spent in it.”

“Come on, stay. They haven’t even done trivia yet and I know you’ll be great at it. Did you check out the memory wall?” She pointed to a display I hadn’t even noticed.

“No, Chloe pretty much wrangled me the minute I arrived.”

“Speaking of wrangled,” Chloe cackled. “Do you remember when we left a cowbell in your locker?”

Harmony joined her. “Oh my God, I forgot all about that! It was right after the farm field trip, right?”

I gritted my teeth, leaving my tone flat and unamused. “You mean the field trip when Robbie Pachinko said they should have strapped me to one of the milking machines because, according to him, with boobs like mine, I must have plenty of milk? Yeah. I remember. So funny.”

Emma winced while the other two laughed harder. “Let’s go look at the memory wall.”

“Sounds good.” I followed her, but to my dismay Chloe and Harmony joined us. There was enough noise that I was certain they couldn’t hear me. “What are you doing with them, Emma? You obviously don’t like their brand of humor. I don’t think you ever have.”

She sighed, and we stopped in front of the wall. “You know how it is. You make friends and you just kind of stick with them. Thick and thin.”

“Out of habit?”

“Something like that.”

“Like I said before, sunk-cost fallacy. You could leave them anytime you?—"

Chloe thrusted her arm between us and over our shoulders to point at a picture. “There I am! Top of the pyramid. I can still do the splits, you know.”

Sure enough, there she was, on top of everyone else. A visual metaphor if there ever was one. And Harmony was right beneath her. Shocker.

If Nora was here, she would be vicious, talking about how many guys had seen Chloe do the splits in private or something equally harsh. Hell, she would have already gotten me out of here by now. Sadly, I was not Nora, being mean was not my thing, and I had no idea how to get out of uncomfortable situations.

It was my curse, thanks to a midwestern mom who didn’t have a mean bone in her body and a Southern father who raised me to believe good manners were more important than life itself. One time, at a church picnic, a bee stung his nose during the prayer, and he didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to interrupt the preacher. Dad was allergic to bees. He nearly died from good manners.

Assertiveness was a sin in our household.

“Where are you, Maggie?” Harmony asked, scanning the pictures on the wall. “I don’t see you… oh wait. There you are. Eating.”

I was in the background of a cafeteria picture, devouring lunch and sitting with Nora. The central focus of the picture was the football team and all their friends, but we were just inside the frame.

Chloe continued to hunt for anything that was about herself. “Oh, look. There I am at the pep rally.”

Harmony, ever the breath of stale air, asked, “Was anyone hurt in the fire?”

Slowly, I twisted to face her. I had no desire to continue speaking to her after that question, but my upbringing yanked an answer out of me. “No.”

“Too bad, right? I bet the payout would have been huge if you had gotten hurt.”

“What kind of a ghoul are you?” I’m sorry, Mom, the question just popped out before I could stop it.

She folded her arms over her chest and scowled. “What’s the big deal? You weren’t even hurt.”

Chloe laid her hand on Harmony’s shoulder as she looked at me. “No, she’s right, Harm. We should be supportive. I mean, she’s single. She worked hard to put herself through culinary school, and then her cute little shop went up in flames. She has nothing. Isn’t that right? You’re probably destitute at this point. That would explain the dress. I’m shocked you came at all.”

Emma quietly said, “Chloe, that’s enough.”

But she continued, “You’re so courageous for showing your face among your much more successful classmates. It’s inspiring, Maggie. Like one of those sad human-interest stories on the news. Brave, despite reality. Cheers to you.” She lifted her glass in a mock toast and drank.

High school was over, but somehow, Chloe Foster still came out on top.

Except something in me steeled. I was not going to let her ruin my night. Not if I could help it. My high school reunion was not going to be another time she made me feel bad with no repercussions.

I passed a business card to Emma. “If you ever want to get a cup of coffee with someone who will listen to you, someone who is a decent human being, I’d be happy to meet up.”

Her smile lit up. “I’d like that.”

“No card for me?” Chloe snapped.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t spend time with petty, selfish women who haven’t changed since high school. Excuse me.”

Before I could even turn heel and leave, she stepped in my way. “Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done talking to you.”

I sidestepped, but she moved to block me again. “Chloe, that’s enough.”

“I think you owe me an apology for?—"

Instead of answering, I spun in the other direction to flee. Just my luck, I smacked face first into some guy’s hard chest. It was like headbutting a wall. I blinked in shock. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. Jules? Is that you?”

“Yes, I’ve been looking for you.”

I threw my arms around him, nearly squeezing him to death. Julian Black had been one of my dearest friends in school, and I had never been so relieved to see anyone in my whole life. I quietly squeaked, “I’m so happy to see you!”

He murmured into my hair, “Same here.”

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