MAGGIE

The room tilts.

I’m standing still, but somehow, everything is spinning around me, spiraling, and the room begins to lose focus.

“Maggie,” Claire’s saying, when I finally pull myself out of the haze a few seconds later. “Maggie, are you feeling okay? Do you need to sit down?”

“No, I’m fine.” I set my first, and only, unfinished glass of champagne onto the silent auction table and rest my hand there to steady myself. “I’m just—sorry, I was surprised.”

“I’m so sorry—I do hope I haven’t gotten Tyler in trouble. He seems like such a nice man.” Claire frowns. “He did say he wanted to break the news to you personally, and I can’t believe I’ve ruined it.”

“No, no, you didn’t ruin anything,” I say, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder and giving a squeeze. “It’s nothing you did. I’m just wondering how long it’s been since the, uh, deal went through?”

Claire’s lipsticked mouth pinches in thought. “Let’s see. He first called me a few weeks back. I seem to remember we signed the paperwork not a week later, which would mean...oh, at least two weeks now? Hence the reason I figured he’d have told you already. His ownership is effective at the beginning of next year—I assumed he’d want to begin getting things in order as quickly as possible.”

I nod, force a swallow, and fall silent as Tyler pulls closer. He’s been dodging and ducking his way across the room at top speed, and judging by the stern set to his jaw, he knows exactly what’s happening between me and Claire.

“Ladies,” he says, once he reaches us. “Thank you for the party, Claire—I was just about to take my leave with—”

“You can save it,” I say, my voice hushed. “I know.”

Claire’s face crumples in apology. “I’m truly sorry—I thought this was cause for celebration, and...”

In a burst of emotion, I pull Claire to my chest and squeeze her tight. “You’ve been nothing but a wonderful employer to me, and a kind friend. Mila and I both love you. You’ve done nothing wrong—thanks, for everything.”

“Maggie!” Claire squeezes my arm, holding me tight for a long moment until she catches the look in my eye, and then, without further ado, she lets me go.

“Maggie!” This time it’s Tyler calling my name as I dip away from him, weaving through the guests.

I spin out of control past a goblin and a scantily dressed bunny, running head first into Emily as I reach the front door.

“I’m going home,” I say. “Sorry. I’ll catch a cab—have fun.”

“Is everything okay?” Her eyes widen. “I’ll go with you. Let me find my shoe, and grab Luca, and—”

“Really, it’s okay.” I glance over my shoulder to find Tyler charging at us, breaking through the crowd, and I free my arm from Emily. “Trust me. I’ll find my own way home. Enjoy the party and tell Claire I’m sorry.”

“What?” she exclaims, but I’m already gone. As I press out the front door, I hear her spin on Tyler and confront him. “What did you say to her?!”

Tyler mumbles some response, enough of a response to get Emily to back off, I imagine, since he charges out after me into the night. I’m storming past the graveyard when he catches up, and I’m already flagging down a waiting taxi. Claire thinks of everything at her parties, including complimentary rides home.

“Wait, please,” I say, ducking my head into the taxi as I feel a hand encircle my wrist.

“Maggie.” Tyler pulls me from the cab, but I’m expecting it, so I brace myself. “Where are you going?”

“What the hell were you thinking?” I whirl on him. “Was everyone in on the secret except me?”

“What are you talking about? Anastasia—”

“Oh, don’t play stupid.” I cross my arms, backing away from the gorgeous cop before me. I’m aware how ironic this must look to anyone arriving at the party. “This has nothing to do with Anastasia.”

Judging by the note of understanding in his eyes, clicking into place with the scene in the party, Tyler’s jaw clicks back and forth. “The inn.”

“Yeah, the inn,” I practically spit. “When were you going to tell me you bought it?”

“Why are you so upset? I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy about being the last person to know?!” I shake my head. “We’ve been spending every spare minute we have together for the last few weeks. I told you I loved you, Tyler. Why are you keeping things like this from me?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Apparently Anastasia knew,” I say, and suddenly it makes sense. I jab an accusatory finger at his nametag. “No wonder she thought I was your date. The reason you had a nametag is because Claire invited you, and you just let me think I was taking you as my date.”

“You were taking me as your date, Maggie—I wouldn’t have come here without you.”

“Why’d you buy it, huh?”

My question takes him aback. “The inn?”

“No, your shirt. Of course the inn.”

“Because...” he stumbles for an answer. “It’s a good investment opportunity.”

“Bullshit. I know Claire wasn’t looking to sell it—she was looking to sell the bookstore. Did you buy that, too?”

At his noncommittal response, I simply shake my head.

“Oh, no wonder. That’s how Julia seemed to know you. I thought she just liked you because you bought a few books there, but no.” I shake my head more firmly. “You bought the entire damn shop.”

“It’s my money,” he says, his temper flaring. “What does it matter to you?”

“Matter to me?” I screech back. “It’s only my place of employment, my place of residence—the place Mila’s spent every moment of her childhood. No, Tyler, I know you’re not stupid enough to think that this means nothing to me.”

A moment of utter silence follows and then, in a pained voice, he says, “I had to do it.”

I wait for him to explain, forcing myself to bite my tongue instead of lashing out like I normally would.

“Fletcher, the man upstairs with Anastasia, brought the bookstore and its plot of land to the board of directors for my company as a possible location to build a hotel. They would’ve gone for it, and I would’ve had my hands tied. I couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

“Isn’t it your company?”

“It’s business. In business there are politics,” he explains, tight-lipped. “Things don’t work like that.”

“I told you to go ahead and try,” I say, my voice a low murmur. “If you think you can compete with our inn, go ahead.”

He takes the challenge gracefully. “We have more funds, more resources, more of everything. By buying the inn, we can grow together instead of competing for guests—”

“You think you have more of everything,” I correct quietly. “I might be some country bumpkin, as your daughter would say, but I’ve run a successful, flourishing inn for nearly a decade with Emily. Believe it or not, I’m a businesswoman—you don’t have to explain these things to me. I understand competition.”

“Then you’ll understand why I chose to buy the already successful, flourishing inn, instead of building my own next to it and running you out of business.”

“I would’ve preferred to see you run me out of business. Admit it, Tyler, you would’ve made a different business decision if I hadn’t been involved. You wouldn’t have bought the inn if you weren’t trying to win me over, would you?”

His silence is enough.

“No. You would’ve tried to squash us to the ground. Is that why Fletcher’s here? To try and convince you not to be an idiot? Am I in the right ballpark, or do I just not understand?”

“Maggie—”

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” he says, and it’s a quiet roar. “Yes, okay? I felt bad. I see how much you love the inn, how Mila loves it. I couldn’t let them take that away from you no matter what.”

“That’s a nice sentiment,” I say, my voice fading to nothing but a bitter remnant. “But I’d prefer you had confidence in me. You see, Tyler, Mila and I would be fine—we’re survivors. When things don’t go our way, we figure out a new way. We don’t just throw money at the problem.”

“Maggie—don’t be unreasonable!”

“I’m not being unreasonable!” I yank open the door to the cab. “I loved you because I thought you respected me, Tyler. My mind, my independence, my life. Mila and I don’t need you swooping in to save the day. I appreciate the thought, but we wanted a family. Partners in crime.” I cringe as I glance down at my jumpsuit. “I’m sorry, Tyler, but this isn’t going to work for me.”

“Maggie, don’t go.”

I shut the door behind me, but the window is rolled down, and I can hear Tyler calling after me, even as I instruct the taxi to take off toward the inn.

“This happened before,” I tell Tyler, as he leans in the window. “You took care of me, and then you left. And I was helpless.”

The taxi begins to roll forward, and Tyler walks with it.

Tears prick my eyes and my bottom lip trembles. “I won’t be helpless again.”