Page 60 of Playing for Keeps in Starr's Fall
“Thanks,” he said after a moment, unsure what else to say. “Seems like we’re all having a new start.”
“Yes.” She took a deep breath, laid her hands flat on the counter. “In all kinds of ways.” She paused before continuing, “Actually… I’m going out on a date this weekend.” She lifted her gaze to meet his with a resolute defiance.
Zach went completely still, saying nothing. He felt like he’d been sucker-punched; he was breathless from the pain of it. Sothatwas where this had all been going. Stupid him, for hoping otherwise. For thinking Maggie might feel about him the way he still felt about her. Maggie stared at him for another second, her expression still defiant, and then she turned away.
“Wow,” he finally said, and his voice was toneless. He was amazed at how hurt he felt—not just because she was going out on a date, but also because she’d told him this way, like she was flinging it in his face, like she’d moved on a long time ago, and maybe she had. “Did you sign up to Tinder, after all?” he asked, his lips curving into a small, cool smile. “Good for you.”
“Not Tinder,” she replied stiffly as she turned back to face him. “He’s a friend of a friend.”
“Even better.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and Zach had the urge to grab her by the shoulders, shake her and then kiss her. Or maybe just beg her to reconsider, the way he was, because he really didn’t like the thought of her dating someone else at all, even as he recognized he had no right to object. A month ago he’d more or less told her he wasn’t interested. Did he really want her pining for him now?
And yet… adate?
He opened his mouth to say—what? Don’t go? But no. She had every right to find happiness—and he was done with trying to make people like him. He wasn’t about to convince Maggie how she should take a chance on him. Onthem. If she wanted to go out on a date, fine. He wouldn’t stop her. He dug his hands into the pockets of his coat, and his fingers closed around a small wooden figure he’d been keeping in there for months now. He’d never found the right time to give it to her, but maybe now he never would.
“Here,” he said abruptly as he thrust it at her. “A memento.”
“What…” She took the figurine, stared down at it in surprise.
“A shadar-kai,” he said tonelessly. “In case you didn’t know.”
“I know,” she said softly. She ran her thumb over the burnished wood of the tiny figurine—elven ears poked out of her long flowing hair, her slender body swathed in a robe, the expression on her face a mixture of defiance and fear. She looked up at him, her eyes luminous. “You said I was like a shadar-kai.”
“Yeah.” He felt exposed, then, for having made the figurine and then given it to her, especially since she was going on a date. “I should probably go,” he said abruptly, and for a millisecond, her face crumpled. It was so quick Zach wondered if he’d imagined it, hoped for it, even. Then she nodded.
“All right. And—thank you.” She nodded toward the figurine. “I’ll… I’ll treasure it, Zach.”
He found he had to swallow past the lump in his throat. For a second, they simply stared at each other.
“Well…” Maggie cleared her throat. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
What a vague non-promise that was, he thought. Zach nodded back. “See you around,” he echoed, and then he walked out of the café, feeling like he was walking out of her life. As the door slammed behind him, Zach thought that maybe he was.
21
“So what doyoudo?”
The question, Maggie reflected, would have meant more if it had come an hour, or even half an hour, earlier. As it was, she’d listened to Eric Roberts drone on about himself and his oh-so-important job as a corporate lawyer for most of the evening without him asking a single thing about her. It had been more than a little dull, and that was without taking into consideration the fact that she hadn’t wanted to be here in the first place.
Eric Roberts had worked with Lynn before moving to Hartford a couple of months ago. He was mid-forties, divorced, okay looking, and probably an all-around good guy. Lynn had tried to talk him up, but Maggie had zero interest in him.
“I run a boardgame café,” she told him as she took a sip of her wine. They’d met midway between Starr’s Fall and Hartford, at a bistro on Route 4, air-kissing each other’s cheeks before descending into awkward chitchat. And then Eric had started talking about himself and Maggie had more or less tuned out.
“A boardgame café,” he repeated. He looked like he had no idea what to make of that. “What kinds of games?”
“All kinds,” Maggie told him. “We’re holding a gaming conference next weekend, actually, where people can play RainQuest for twenty-four hours straight.” That had been, of course, Ben’s idea. He and his new friends had arranged it all, and they had an incredible sixteen sign-ups so far. Slice of Heaven and The Rolling Pin were going to provide food, and Ben was livestreaming the event to other gamers. He had lots of other ideas, too—a Scrabble tournament, Saturday afternoon tutorials in new games, an evening trivia quiz.
“RainQuest? Is that, like, some kind of fantasy game? Like Dungeons & Dragons?” The disdain in Eric’s voice was more than evident.
“Yes,” Maggie replied coolly. “My son loves it.” She lifted her eyebrows slightly, daring him to make some remark.
“Oh, well… I mean, boys like those kinds of games, don’t they?” he stammered. “I was more into sports, myself, but I guess it’s a phase some boys go through, especially if they’re not athletic…”
“Actually,” Maggie told him evenly, “RainQuest is an incredibly complex game with a lot of involved strategy. I’m not sure the average jock could get the hang of it.” She paused while he goggled at her. “I play it myself now.” Ben had helped her set up her own profile a few days ago. She was Maggie-kai, elven devotee of the Raven Queen.
“Oh, well…” Eric shrugged helplessly, and a long, tense silence ensued. The evening, Maggie feared, was going to go even more downhill, and that wasn’t even about Eric. It was aboutherand the fact that there was only one guy she wanted to be with. Zach.
