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Authors: Debbie Macomber

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BOOK: White Lace and Promises
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The statement was open-ended, but Maggie refused to comment. Glenn’s insight surprised her. He was right. All Great-aunt Margaret’s money hadn’t brought Maggie or her brother happiness. Oh, at first she had been filled with wonderful illusions about her inheritance. But these days she struggled to shroud her restlessness. To anyone else her lifestyle was a dream come true. Only Maggie knew differently.

“Money is supposed to make everything right. Only it creates more problems than it solves,” she mumbled, and pulled into the flow of traffic leaving the airport. Glenn didn’t respond, and Maggie wasn’t sure he heard her, which was just as well, because the subject was one she preferred to avoid.

“It’s hard to imagine Steve and Janelle getting married after all these years.” A lazy grin swept across his tanned face.

Maggie smiled, longing to keep things light. “I’d say it was about time, wouldn’t you?”

“I’ve never known two people more right for each other. The surprising part is that everyone saw it but them.”

“I’m happy for those two.”

“Me, too,” he added, but Maggie noted that Glenn’s tone held a hint of melancholy, as if the wedding was going to be as difficult for him as it was for her. Maggie couldn’t imagine why.

“Steve’s divorce devastated him,” Maggie continued, “and he started dating Janelle again. The next thing I knew they decided to march up the aisle.” Maggie paused and gestured expressively with her right hand.

Glenn’s eyes fell on Maggie’s artistically long fingers. It surprised him that she had such beautiful hands. They looked capable of kneading the stiffest clay and at the same time gentle enough to soothe a crying child. She wore no rings, nor were her well-shaped nails painted, yet her hands were striking. He couldn’t take his eyes from them. He had known Maggie most of her life and had never appreciated her hands.

“Are you going to invite me out to your beach house?” he asked finally.

“I thought I might. There’s a basketball hoop in the gym and I figured I’d challenge you to a game.”

“I’m not worried. As I recall, the only slam dunk you ever made was with a doughnut into a cup of coffee.”

Hiding her laugh, Maggie answered threateningly, “I’ll make you pay for that remark.”

Their families had shared a wide common driveway, and Maggie had passed many an hour after school playing ball with Glenn. Hadn’t seen him since his parents had moved. Janelle and Steve and the rest of the gang from the neighborhood had hung around together. Most of the childhood friendships remained in place. Admittedly, Maggie wasn’t as trusting of people nowadays. Not since she had inherited the money. The creeps had come crawling out of the woodwork the minute the news of her good fortune was out. Some were obvious gold diggers and others weren’t so transparent. Maggie had gleaned valuable lessons from Dirk Wagner and had nearly made the mistake of marrying a man who loved her money far more than he cared for her.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got a pool in that mansion of yours?”

“Yup.”

“Is there anything you haven’t got?” Glenn asked, suddenly serious.

Maggie didn’t know where to start, the list was so long. She had lost her purpose, her ambition, her drive to succeed professionally with her art. Her roster of friends was meager and consisted mainly of people she had known most of her life. “Some things,” she muttered, wanting to change the subject.

“Money can’t buy everything, can it?” Glenn asked so gently that Maggie felt her throat tighten.

She’d thought it would at first, but had learned the hard way that it couldn’t buy the things that mattered most: love, loyalty, respect, or friendship.

“No.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I suppose out of respect for your millions, I should call you Margaret,” Glenn suggested next. “But try as I might, you’ll always be Muffie to me.”

“Try Maggie. I’m not Muffie anymore.” She smiled to take any sting from her voice. With his returning nod, her hand relaxed against the steering wheel.

She exited from the freeway and drove into the basement parking lot of Steve’s high-rise building. “Here we are,” she announced, turning off the engine. “With a good three hours to spare.”

While Glenn removed his suitcase from the car trunk, Maggie dug in the bottom of her purse for the apartment key Steve had given her. “I have strict instructions to personally escort you upstairs and give you a stiff drink. You’re going to need it when you hear what’s scheduled.”

With his suitcase in tow, Glenn followed her to the elevator. “Where’s Steve?”

“Working.”

“The day before his wedding?” Glenn looked astonished.

“He’s been through this wedding business before,” she reminded him offhandedly.

The heavy doors swished closed and Maggie leaned against the back wall and pulled the pins from her hair. It was futile to keep putting it up when it came tumbling down every time she moved her head. Stuffing the pins in her pocket, she felt Glenn’s gaze studying her. Their eyes met.

“I can’t believe you,” he said softly.

“What?”

“You haven’t changed. Time hasn’t marked you in the least. You’re exactly as I remember.”

“You’ve changed.” They both had.

“Don’t I know it.” Glenn sighed, leaned against the side of the moving elevator, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Some days I feel a hundred years old.”

Maggie was mesmerized by him. He was different. The carefree, easygoing teen had been replaced by an introspective man with intense, dark eyes that revealed a weary pain. The urge to ask him what had happened burned on her lips, but she knew that if she inquired into his life, he could ask about her own. Instead, she led the way out of the elevator to the apartment.

The key turned, and Maggie swung open the door to the high-rise apartment that gave a spectacular view of San Francisco Bay.

“Go ahead and plant your suitcase in the spare bedroom and I’ll fix us a drink. What’s your pleasure?”

“Juice, if there’s any.”

Maggie placed both hands on the top of the bar. “I’ll see what I can do.” Turning, she investigated the contents of the refrigerator and brought out a small can of tomato juice. “Will this do?”

“Give it to me straight,” he tossed over his shoulder as he left the living room.

By the time he returned, Maggie was standing at the window, holding a martini. She watched him take the glass of juice from the bar and join her.

“Are you on the wagon?” she asked impulsively.

“Not really. It’s a little too early in the afternoon for me.”

Maggie nodded as a tiny smile quirked at the corners of her mouth. The first time she had ever tasted vodka had been with Glenn.

“What’s so amusing?”

“Do you remember New Year’s Eve the year I was sixteen?”

Glenn’s brow furrowed. “No.”

“Glenn!” She laughed with disbelief. “After all the trouble we got into over that, I’d think you’d never forget it.”

“Was that the year we threw our own private party?”

“Remember Cindy and Earl, Janelle and Steve, you and me, and … who else?”

“Brenda and Bob?”

“No … Barb and Bob.”

“Right.” He chuckled. “I never could keep the twins straight.”

“Who could? It surprises me he didn’t marry both of them.”

“Whatever happened to Bob?”

Maggie took a sip of her martini before answering. “He’s living in Oregon, going bald, and has four kids.”

“Bob? I don’t believe it.”

“You weren’t here for the ten-year reunion.” Maggie hadn’t bothered to attend, either, but Janelle had filled in the details of what she’d missed.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” Glenn said. He lifted his drink and finished it off in two enormous swallows.

Mildly surprised at the abrupt action, Maggie took another sip of hers, moved to a deep-seated leather chair, sat, and tucked her long legs under her.

Glenn took a seat across from her. “So what’s been going on in your life, Maggie? Are you happy?”

She shrugged indolently. “I suppose.” From anyone else she would have resented the
question, but she’d always been able to talk to Glenn. A half-hour after being separated for years, and it was as if they’d never been apart. “I’m a wealthy woman, Glenn, and I’ve learned the hard way about human nature.”

“What happened?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Didn’t you just get done telling me that we had three hours before the rehearsal?”

For a moment, Maggie was tempted to spill her frustrations out. To tell Glenn about the desperate pleas for money she got from people who sensed her soft heart. The ones who were looking for someone to invest in a sure thing. And the users, who pretended friendship or love in the hopes of a lucrative relationship. “You must be exhausted. I’ll cry on your shoulder another time.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” He leaned forward and reached for her hand. “We had some good times, didn’t we?”

“Great times.”

“Ah, the good old days.” Glenn relaxed with a bittersweet sigh. “Who was it that said youth was wasted on the young?”

“Mark Twain,” Maggie offered.

“No, I think it was Madonna.”

They both laughed and Maggie stood, reaching for her purse. “Well, I suppose I should think about heading home and changing my clothes. Steve will be here in an hour. That’ll give you time to relax.” She fanned her fingers through her hair in a careless gesture. “I’ll see you tonight at the rehearsal.”

“Thanks for meeting me,” Glenn said, coming to his feet.

“I was glad to do it.” Her hand was on the doorknob.

“It’s great to see you again.”

The door made a clicking sound as it closed, and Glenn turned to wipe a hand over his tired eyes. It was good to be with Maggie again, but frankly, he was glad she’d decided to leave. He needed a few minutes to compose his thoughts before facing Steve. The first thing his friend was bound to ask him about was Angie.

Glenn stiffened as her name sent an instant flash of pain through him. She had married Simon two months earlier, and Glenn had thought that acceptance would become easier with
time. It had, but it was far more difficult than he’d expected. He had loved Angie with a reverence; eventually, he had loved her enough to step aside when she wanted to marry Simon. He’d been a fool, Glenn realized. If he had acted on his instincts, he’d have had a new bride on his arm for this trip. Now he was alone, more alone than he could ever remember. The last place he wanted to be was at a wedding. Every part of it would only be a reminder of what could have been his and what he’d allowed to slip through his fingers. He didn’t begrudge Steve any happiness; he just didn’t want to have to stand by and smile serenely when part of him was riddled with regrets.

Maggie shifted into a higher gear as she rounded the curve in the highway at twenty miles above the speed limit. Deliberately, she slowed down, hating the urgency that forced her to rush home. The beach house had become her gilded cage. The world outside its door had taken on a steel edge that she avoided.

Although she had joked with Glenn about not being married, the tense muscles of her stomach reminded her of how much she envied Janelle. She would smile for the wedding pictures and be awed at all the right moments, but she was going to hate every minute of it. The worst part was she was genuinely happy for Janelle and Steve. Oh, Janelle had promised that they’d continue to get together as they always had. They’d been best friends since childhood, and for a time they probably would see each other regularly. But Janelle wanted to start a family right away, and once she had a baby, Maggie thought, everything would change. It had to.

Automatically, Maggie took the road that veered from the highway, and a few minutes later turned onto the long circular driveway that led to her waterfront house. The huge structure loomed before her, impressive, elegant, and imposing. Maggie had bought it for none of those reasons. She wasn’t even sure she liked it. The two-story single-family dwelling on Eastwood Drive where she had grown up was far more appealing. Sometimes during the darkest hour of a sleepless night, Maggie would mull over the idea of donating her money to charity. If possible, she would gladly return to the years when she had sat blissfully at her bedroom window, her chin resting on her crossed arms as she gazed at the stars and dreamed of the future. Childhood dreams that were never meant to come true.

Shaking herself from her reverie, Maggie parked the fancy sports car in front of the house. For this night she would put on her brightest smile. No one would ever know what she was feeling on the inside.

BOOK: White Lace and Promises
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