Page 72 of The Deal Maker

Never have I been more grateful to be next to Maggie before. Sure, this family means well, but they’re like vultures about telling people what to do.

I’d heard one of the aunts giving her teenage son a pep talk and I was pretty sure I would run away and become a street performer with that kind of “motivation.”

“It’s something to think about.” The words were like Victoria’s last attempt to get her opinion in.

“What about you, Duke?” I didn’t expect her to start interrogating me.

“What about me?” I ask, using the napkin to wipe my mouth while waiting for her next question. My tongue is kind of itchy and I can’t figure out why. This seems to be a basic salad.

“What do you do for a living?”

Blowing out a breath, I prepare myself to see the change in demeanor that usually happens when someone finds out that I still don’t have a definite plan at twenty-seven. Am I taking steps to start up the doggy wash? Yeah, but that won’t be finished for another month when Beck has time to help me transform the space with plumbing and everything. I’ll also be helping out at the card shop part-time, which will give Troy and his wife the chance to get away sometimes. I don’t think I’m ready to take over the shop, but I’m willing to learn from the card master.

“I’m currently between jobs,” I say, not wanting to give Victoria the satisfaction of anything from me.

And there it is, the quick expression of disgust masked with a fake smile. “That’s nice. It looks like Maggie’s track record still stands.”

I stand up, furious at how this woman is talking about and to her daughter. “Are you serious right now?” I say, trying to clearmy throat for a moment. Something is wrong and I can’t figure out what it is. There isn’t any fish in the salad that I can see.

It takes a moment for me to focus back on Victoria. “Your daughter is one of the most incredible people I know. She’s been able to take lemons and make lemonade candy out of her life, which I think is amazing. And to find out that she was able to do it all without the support of her family, that’s something that puts her on an even higher pedestal for me. Magnolia Dean is someone a guy like me can only ever hope to be with.”

I have to stop again, doing my best to breathe in any air possible. I turn to Maggie and say, “Does this have some kind of fish oil in it?”

Maggie looks worried, reaching up to touch my face. “You’re swelling up like a balloon. Are you allergic to fish?”

I can only nod now, my tongue the size of my whole mouth. Of all the places to have an allergic reaction, I wish it hadn’t been Hope’s reception.

“Do you have an EpiPen?” Maggie asks.

I nod, but again can’t answer. I pull the keys to my car out of my pocket and then make a motion that I hope she’ll understand is the glove compartment. Maggie takes the keys and disappears through the door. I’m not sure how long it is before she gets back, but I’m so sleepy and ready for bed at this point.

There’s the shot to my leg and then I can breathe a bit easier, although it will take a bit for the swelling to go down.

“Let’s get you to the hospital,” Maggie says, guiding me out of the room. I try to dig in my heels to stay for her cousin’s reception, but she’s surprisingly strong.

She makes me get into the passenger seat and then gets behind the wheel, having to pull the seat up almost to the shortest it will go.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asks with panic in her eyes.

I nod, and lean back in the seat, closing my eyes. Next thing I know, we’re at the hospital. They take me in and check my vitals before giving me some more medicine that helps release the tightness in my face.

“Thank you,” I say around a slightly less fat tongue.

“Of course,” Maggie says. “I can’t believe I didn’t put it together before about the Rusty Crab and you not wanting sushi. Why didn’t you tell me?”

I shrug. “I didn’t want to end the morning once we got that task. I survived it and here we are.”

Shaking her head, Maggie says, “Why wouldn’t you want to end the morning?”

“Because from the minute I heard you talk about your ice cream theory personality test, I’ve been intrigued by you, Maggie. I feel like you have a perspective on life that not many people understand.Having fun and connecting with you is something I look forward to every day. I really like you.”

There it is. All the emotions out there for her to stomp on or accept.

“You like me?” Maggie says, pointing between us.

I nod, wondering why she sounds like she’s about to break my heart.

“Even though I’ve been spiteful and rude because of your former job?” she asks.

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