Maybelle was a zombie, trudging back to her suite with dead limbs. She couldn’t even feel her heart anymore—she’d left it somewhere, with someone, but she didn’t know who.
The click of the doorknob muffled through her brain, and she let herself inside, slowly locking away the parts of her she’d left behind.
“Hey,” her brother’s deep southern voice greeted, shocking her back to life. Her hand flew to her chest as she caught her breath.
“Gosh, don’t do that.”
Will strode across the room, flicking on the light. As she blinked away from the brightness, concern etched his features. Oh, she must be a real looker tonight.
“What happened tonight, Bells?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.
She couldn’t possibly answer that, even if she tried. Somehow things had gotten scrambled, pain and embarrassment mixing together in a concoction that left a sour taste on her tongue. The thought of facing either man in the morning had her itching to run straight into the damp night.
“I…” she started, her breath hitching. “I think I wanna go home.”
Will’s brows shot upward, and Maybelle slammed her eyes shut and took a breath. Home sounded so safe; it was a place where she was the one left in pain, not the one inflicting it. She could handle that. She could handle being the person on the side of rejection.
Her back straightened, and her jaw clicked into place. “Yes. I think it’s time to go home.”
She made a beeline for her room, not hesitating to hoist one of her many suitcases up on the bed and flipping open the lid. Monday, Tuesday, and her backup outfit was already stuffed into place by the time her brother made his way into the room after her.
“Wait, Bells—”
“If you want, I’ll say it,” she said, grabbing a pair of stockings from the dresser drawer. “I’ll say it, even though it’ll kill me. You were right.” She felt a sniffle coming on, and she shoved it in her suitcase alongside her clothes. “This place? It’s a joke. And I’m a silly woman who actually thought that Eros or Cupid or whatever his name is was gonna shoot me in the butt and change my life.”
Oh, he’d shot her all right, but with what? With the arrow of indecision? With the arrow of deception or cruelty or was this somehow a messed up multiple choice quiz she was supposed to pass?
She cursed under her breath and glared at the jeans she’d worn the night Garreth kissed her as they sat next to the swimsuit she’d worn just hours before when Michael’s lips had met hers.
Will shuffled through the door, confusion wrinkling his forehead. “Weren’t things going well with Garreth?”
She gave her brother a nasty look he didn’t deserve, chucking a towel on top of the clothes she wanted to hide from. “It don’t matter anyhow,” she said. “You wanted to leave, and now I’m sayin’ let’s go.” If anything, she could make Will happy by getting him outta there and back in Alabama where he felt so at ease. “So… let’s go.”
There was a twitch near the corner of his mouth she’d never have seen if he hadn’t trimmed down his beard earlier. “Don’t you wanna see who the murderer is?”
A snort rumbled her nose. The murder mystery was about as far away from her focus of thought as possible, and with Garreth so in tune with how things work around here, she guaranteed he was right about who dun it.
And just the reminder, the image of his face when he enthusiastically told her who he thought it was, dug at her chest and made her resolve to run that much clearer.
Will cleared his throat, his voice rushed. “What about the ball?” he asked, and she furrowed her brow at his frantic behavior, how he looked at her packing like she was taking away his favorite pizza cutter. “There’s a ball or somethin’, right?” He offered up a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You wanna go to that; I know ya do.”
She eyed him, trying to read his expression. “Not anymore,” she admitted. Yes, the dance that ended the murder mystery week had been one of the many highlights of the schedule, especially when she imagined dancing in Garreth’s arms, watching his nervous smile and wondering if he’d trip over his toes or if he’d have moves like Swayze. Then there was Michael, who had most likely been to a million of these dances, and he could dip and twirl her around like she weighed no more than a flower.
Oh, did she want to experience what it’d be like to dance with either of them… or both of them… geez, why couldn’t she make up her mind?
“That’ll just make things messier,” she muttered, tossing a heel into her second suitcase.
Will’s brows pulled the slightest bit together, but there was still that look of anxious panic in his eyes. “But… didn’t you promise Winter you’d do her hair?”
Maybelle paused mid-throw, her other heel suddenly weighing a thousand pounds in her hand. A light clicked in her mind, and she tried not to look at her brother in complete shock.
Yes, she had promised that the other night when Winter had asked Maybelle what she did for a living. She’d jumped at the chance to style that gorgeous head of platinum blonde hair, but she was sure that if she ran tonight that Winter would be just fine without her.
It wasn’t the promise that held her in place, that took Maybelle aback so much that she could hardly stand straight. No, it was the way Winter’s name had fallen off her brother’s tongue—a way she’d never heard him say a woman’s name in his life.
“She’s been excited,” he continued, his smile growing on his face. He must know Maybelle’s resolve was temporarily diluted. “And it’d be good for you, yeah? Maybe she could recommend you to some of those famous people you want to style for.”
Oh, he was reaching, and Maybelle’s heart brightened just the slightest degree for him. Her eyes welled up for the first time that night with happy tears. She knew better than to call him out on his infatuation; he’d only deny it and run off, much like she was doing. Monroe’s were loud and fun, but they didn’t know how to handle the deep waters of emotion. Maybelle gazed down at the open suitcase, clothes overflowing and bundled in her haste to leave, to avoid seeing Garreth and Michael ever again, to avoid having to make a choice between them, or worse, having either choice taken away.
She shut her eyes and tried to imagine if she heard a knock at the door right then, which man would she want it to be. But both men flickered, like a deck of cards, Michael Garreth Michael Garreth, back and forth without landing on an answer.
She sniffed and opened her eyes, Will waiting for her with baited breath. He’d done so much already, coming along with her, forcing himself out of his comfort zone just so she could entertain the idea of Cupid and finding a man to marry. It all sounded ridiculous now, and she loved her brother even more for never questioning her sanity.
“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “I did promise her…”
The corner of his mouth twitched up, and that alone was enough to have Maybelle ready to dump her clothes back in the drawers.
“Maybe sleep on it,” he said, still not realizing her resolve to now stay. “You may change your mind after you’ve slept.”
She shook her head and slumped down on the mattress. “I won’t.” The morning would only be scarier, and even though she’d still want to go home, that didn’t mean she was going to.
Will sighed. “What happened?” he pressed again. Maybelle shook her head harder, burying her face into her hands. He’d think her a terrible person, too, she knew it. She wasn’t the person to toy with emotions, especially after having been toyed with so many times before. But there she was, playing away and unwilling to let either of them go.
The mattress dipped with Will’s weight, and she felt him nudge her into his shoulder. She went easily, resting against his soft shirt, his unusually smooth chin.
“A’right,” he said, running a hand up and down her arm. She breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to push her into talking. It was the best thing about her brother, but also the worst. She probably needed to be pushed.
She watched his free hand play with the frayed fabric around the tiny hole in his jeans. Did he wear those to dinner? Oh, brother… She hoped Winter was really attracted to the rugged type.
A small smile teased her lips, and it felt good to be thinking of someone else’s love life for a change.
“I’ll stay,” she said, lifting her head from his shoulder. A light flickered on behind his eyes that he could not hide.
“Yeah?”
“I promised.” She gulped. “But I want to leave first thing on Saturday.” The mystery would be over by then, and even though check out was at noon, she didn’t think she could survive so much downtime without the mystery there to distract her.
Will nodded once. “You got it.”
She slipped out from under the comfort of his arm and grabbed her heels, placing them neatly back in the closet. Will leaned back on his elbows, unable to erase the tiniest glimpse of satisfaction from his face.
“It was only pizza,” he said.
“Huh?”
“Winter wanted me to make pizza for dinner, so you only missed the stuff you get all the time.”
She snorted. “Every darn day, it’s another pizza.” She tucked her bathing suit into the dirty laundry bag. “Glad I didn’t miss much.”
“Yeah…”
She paused in her unpacking and watched her brother go off into la la land, gazing at the ceiling and reliving whatever night he’d had with their gorgeous host. Maybelle grinned. She supposed if Cupid was going to mess with her, at least he’d been sweet to her brother.