Page 43 of Raise The Bar
I want to wake up by your side
After sleeping with you
On the last night in July
The song lyrics have been going through my head all day. My mom was a huge Carole King fan and her music was played frequently around the house and in the car. I asked her once why she loved her so much and she said that her songs felt real to her. When she listened to them she didn’t picture sound engineers and studio executives; she saw a woman at a piano with a cup of coffee, writing songs about her life and the people in it.
“The First Day In August” was one of my mom’s favorites. Every time I check my phone and see today’s date, I hear the words and melody. And I think of Maggie.
Don’t lead her on.
These four words have become my mantra this last week. My code. My scripture.
I’ve refrained from texting her, except to respond to her texts about dinner with quick, nonchalant replies. It doesn’t feel great, and I get an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach when I think about it, like a knife sticking into my gut. As a distraction I’ve thrown myself into work, scheduling meetings and doing research on some of the more promising ventures that have approached me. There still really isn’t anything that I’m ready to commit to, but at least I’m considering some.
The only thing I’ve really been interested in is Maggie’s soap business. Her subscription box idea was brilliant and I’ve had several more ideas since she brought it up. I haven’t shared these ideas with her yet, because I don’t want her to know how much I’m thinking about her.
Don’t lead her on.
I was surprised when she accepted my offer to take her to the wedding. Part of me was thrilled, until I realized it’s going to be hard to hold her at arms length when I’m slow dancing to John Legend songs with her. And now I’m on my way to have dinner with her family, which feels like giving mixed signals at best.
Barcelona is busy, as is customary for a Saturday evening. It’s a nice night and the outdoor patio section is completely full, but I spot Josh’s head in the back above the rest. Weaving through crowded tables, I make my way over to them. Josh raises his hand in greeting to me before resting it on the back of Betty’s chair. His sister, Rilla, sits on the other side of him. There are two people at the end of the table that I assume are Maggie’s sister and her fiancé. And then there’s Maggie. Her back is to me, but I would recognize that pile of dark curls anywhere. Her head spins around at my approach. She smiles and I can’t help but return it. I’ve missed that smile.
“Evening,” I smile at the crowd. “Nice to see you again, Rilla.” Josh’s sister looks the same as she did when I met her years ago.
“Same!” She grins up at me, still looking like she lives for trouble.
I turn to the two people I don’t know. “I’m Callum. You must be the soon-to-be newlyweds.” I hold out my hand to the woman who doesn’t look as much like Maggie as I expected.
“It’s nice to meet you, Callum,” she says, shaking my hand. Her features might be different, but they have similar smiles. “I’m June and this is Colin.” She gestures to the man to her left and I shake his hand too.
Introductions complete, I take the only seat still available which just happens to be the one next to Maggie. A waitress arrives and everyone orders drinks. Betty orders a ginger ale, much to the amusement of the rest of the table.
“Did you overindulge last night, Betty?” I tease her and she blushes.
“Maybe a little,” she admits with a laugh. “My surroundings have stopped spinning, so I’m better than I was this morning.”
The drinks arrive and the conversation is lively. Rilla holds the entire table’s attention as she tells us bachelorette party stories from the bar she works at. June follows that up with nightmare weddings she’s photographed and the entire group is in hysterics.
When the food arrives, everyone breaks into smaller pockets of conversation.
“How was your week?” Maggie asks me in between bites.
“Busy, but good. You?”
“Same. I found my dress for the wedding yesterday.”
“Yeah?” For the first time since I got here, I really look at her. She’s dressed casually in a white tank top and a matching skirt that’s short enough that I can see part of her thighs at the table. “Do you like it?”
“I really do,” she smiles brightly. “I think it looks really nice.”
“You always look nice,” I say, honestly. More than nice.
“Thank you.” She turns her attention back to her meal again. I go back to my dinner as well and before I know it, it’s time to pay the bill. When Maggie excuses herself to go to the restroom her arm brushes lightly against mine. Our eyes meet and it’s clear that the brief contact has set us both on edge. She hurries off and I sigh watching her go. Is this how things are going to be between us from now on? Strained conversation and awkward silences?
“I hear you’re coming to the wedding,” June says casually to me as she slides into Maggie’s empty chair.
“I am. I hope that’s okay?”
