Page 38 of Raise The Bar
“Well, this is a surprise,” she smiles tightly at Maggie. “When were you going to share him with the rest of us?” I try not to make snap judgments about people, but I don’t like this woman. She gives off the same energy as Veruca Salt inCharlie And The Chocolate Factory. Entitled and unpleasant.
“I was saving him for the wedding,” Maggie replies, looking up to me for confirmation. “Right?”
“I’m looking forward to it.” I wink at her and squeeze her hand again, trying not to notice how soft it is, or how perfectly it fits in mine. This is all pretend, we’re both playing our respective parts. Her hand relaxes in mine and she squeezes back. “We’d better get inside before our ice cream melts.”
“Of course. I’ll talk to you soon, April.”
“Yes, you will, Magpie.” Her smile is like aspartame: fakely sweet. “I’ll see you at the wedding,” she says to me. “Be sure to save me a dance.”
The fuck I will.
“Take care, August.” I give her my most charming smile as I lead Maggie up the stairs to her building.
“Her name is April,” Maggie whispers as I open the door for her.
“I know what her name is.”
Once we’re safely inside, Maggie doesn’t head for the stairwell. Instead she walks in the opposite direction and sits on an iron bench located next to the elevator. She drops her purse next to her on the bench. Leaning forward, she puts her elbows on her knees and rests her chin on her hands as she stares up at me.
“What was that, Clark?” she asks slowly and evenly.
“Hear me out.” I lean against the adjacent wall, facing her. One beautiful eyebrow arches and I make my pitch. “You don’t want to go to the wedding alone, so take a trusted friend who happens to look fantastic in a suit.”
“You want me to lie to my entire family?” Her face looks doubtful.
“Who’s lying? I said I was your date, your cousin made her own assumptions.” I sigh and run a hand over my face. “Do you want to go to the wedding alone?”
“No,” she admits begrudgingly. She’s chewing on her bottom lip. “But I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”
“I understand. So tell them I’m your friend.” I watch her as she thinks it over. “We are friends, right Maggie?” Her mouth quirks up at this and I know I’ve got her.
“Can you dance?”
“Can I–” I huff out an indignant scoff. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” She’s grinning now and I grab her hands, pulling her off the bench towards me. I place her hands on my shoulders and move my hands down until my fingertips are resting lightly on her hips. There is enough room between us to fit two other people. “Do you want the middle school dance experience?”
“This will definitely confirm that we’re just friends.” She laughs as we move stiffly from side to side. I move closer to her, my hands encircling her waist.
“Do you prefer this?” We move together to a song that only exists in our heads. Two friends slow dancing in a lobby should be awkward, but it’s not. It feels surprisingly right.
“Can you dance to fast songs too?” She looks up at me through those thick eyelashes and I find myself wondering how long it would take me to count how many she has.
“Fast…slow…” I say, my voice low. “However you want it. I’ve got you.” We stop moving, but neither of us moves away. I feel her heart beating along with mine. I want to kiss her again. I want it more than I want oxygen. I search her eyes, trying to silently ask her if she wants me to.
Sudden movement from the left breaks our trace and I look up to find my slack-jawed friend frozen by the stairwell.
“Hey, Josh,” Maggie drops her hands and takes a step back from me.
“Hey, guys. Nice day out there?” He’s looking everywhere but us.
“Beautiful,” I say looking at Maggie and she reddens as she walks past Josh to the stairway.
“Thank you for listening to my ideas,” she says to me. “I’ll get to work on those right away.” She glances at Josh and then back to me. “And I’ll let you know about your latest…proposal.”
“Please do.” I watch as she disappears through the doorway. Looking back, I find Josh seemingly engrossed in reading the building safety regulations posted next to the elevator. “It’s not what–”
“I don’t need to know,” he says, holding both hands up. “You’re my friends and I love you both, but I’m not getting involved.”
“Really, there’s nothing going–”
