Never Tell Your Dreams (7 page)

“First she has to get started on helping me plan the
New Year’s Eve bash,” Maggie’s Aunt Jenna chimed in. “Liz and I are co-host
this year.”

Jenna Greenlee took pride in being president of the
local MADD, Mothers Against Drunk Driving, chapter. Her husband was killed by a
drunk driver and she’s made it her life’s mission to help fight anyone who
drank a drop before getting behind the wheel. And when Liz blew into town,
Jenna embraced her and now she’s just like a Greenlee.

Mitch had them to thank for getting elected. They
walked and talked him right into the Mayor’s chair. Liz busted her butt making
some really cool signs for the newly designed downtown offices and remodeled
historic homes.

“Yes. I do have a lot to get done.” Liz brought
Mitch back in from his thoughts. “Does the Mayor want to donate a prize for the
raffle?”

Mitch noticed Liz was looking at Wendy for conformation,
just like she had a final say in his decisions.

“We’ve got to go.” Mitch’s hand was numb from lack
of blood. “I’ll see ya’ll later this afternoon. Maggie, have a safe trip back.”

It took everything he had to muster up another
goodbye to her. He secretly vowed this one to be the last.

He had to move on and it had to be with Wendy.
Maggie had moved on. It was now time for him.

Chapter 8

It is sad when two people turn from the
paths they’re traveling, and their paths go on to cross without them. ~ Robert
Brault

They rode in silence back to his farm. He thought
about Maggie the entire way home and how the pink sweat suit showed off her
perfect body. The harder she burned in his mind, the faster he drove. Being
Mayor did have some perks. If the police saw him, they wouldn’t pull him over.
It wasn’t long before they got to Mitch’s house.

He pulled into the long gravel driveway with his
head still in the clouds. He could still picture Maggie’s black lacy bra and
panties, her smell and her olive skin. He loved how she arched when her body
conformed to his and the small moans coming out of her mouth.

“Slow down.” Wendy reached over, caressing the nape
of his hair. “

The gravel was flying from under the tires, pinging
the side of the old truck. The only neighbor was Hazel Greenlee and he knew she
was at the Fatted Pig.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. It was like a
ripple effect. He had to have Wendy, right here, right now. He was going to get
Maggie Greenlee out of his head once and for all. He jerked the wheel and the
truck went off the gravel into the field.

“What’s wrong with you?” Wendy held onto the door
jam.

Mitch threw it into park and grabbed her. Placing
his mouth on hers, he closed his eyes and imagined Maggie. Never once did he
open his eyes. Deep down he knew it wasn’t Maggie, deep down he was saying
goodbye—forever.

“Marry me.” Mitch pulled back. He didn’t plan for
these words to happen, but this would help him move forward with his life.
“Marry me today.”

Wendy smiled at him. Her blonde hair lay around her
face making her so angelic. She was going to make him forget Maggie and he knew
it.

“Don’t be going around asking me to marry you
because you can’t have Maggie Greenlee.” Wendy ran her fingers through his hair
and down his back. “Is this about Maggie?”

Mitch knew she was too smart and he could never fool
her. To spare Wendy’s feelings, and to move on with his life, he was willing to
break any superstition to get Maggie Greenlee out of his head.

“Wendy Owens, I would’ve married you in high school
if you had noticed me.” He kissed her lips and pulled away. “I need you, Wendy.
Please marry me.”

Chapter 9

Superstition: Sleep with your feet away
from the door to keep away bad luck.

Normally Maggie wouldn’t be so ready to get back to
the crowded streets of Manhattan, but today when the Empire State Building came
into view, she beeped the horn for joy.

Even in the middle of the night, NYC was hopping and
thank God she had taken off work the next day, because she needed to move her
bed—first thing.

“Good evening, Ms. Greenlee.” The garage operator
lifted the gate. “I’ll call Stan to get your bags.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Maggie threw her hands in
the air. “I only have a duffle bag.”

He signaled her to go and the gate shut behind her.
Grady made sure it was a safe place to live. She loved how he looked after her.

She’d lived with Grady a few months already, and she
still wasn’t use to living in such a luxurious home.

The elevator key took her straight up to the
Penthouse. The mail was on the table just to the left of the door. Maggie
wasn’t going to waste her time thumbing through it because she wanted to get
her bed situated and fast.

The duffle bag echoed when she dropped it on the
marble floor. She’d be sure to remember to get it in the morning before Grady
came over. He couldn’t stand a messy house.

Their loft overlooked the open floor plan and the
family room was just below. The three white couches, arranged in a semi-circle,
looked heavenly with the black pillow accents and the back lighting. She looked
up at the loft, and then stared out of the floor to ceiling windows, taking in
the New York City skyline. It looked like it was out of a magazine.

She galloped down the circular stairs that led down
to the kitchen where she was sure she’d find a bunch of roses. Grady always
left her a welcome back gift every time she came home from Grandberry Falls. He
knew exactly how to relieve the stress that visiting Hazel and Belle put on
her.

Her nails slid across the granite countertop making
a screeching noise. She peered around the counter into the family room, but
there was no sign of flowers, card, or candy.

“Oh, well,” Maggie said, dismissing Grady’s
oversight. He had been busy lately and there was a lot to do before they took
off on their honeymoon. She didn’t have time to obsess about silly flowers. She
needed to get the four poster bed moved away from the door and fast.

Maggie couldn’t stop thinking about Wendy and her
friends from the Fatted Pig. Those words rang over and over in her ears, “I had
a dream she was left at the altar.”

“Ugh!” Maggie screamed trying to push the bed
remembering why she paid Bova to install it for her. She and Grady would’ve
never been able to put this thing together. She stood back, brushed her bangs
out of her eyes and with one more push, muttered, “Stupid superstition.”

She might want to erase her past, but she couldn’t
erase something so ingrained in her and Hazel beat that one into her head.

If she couldn’t change what was said, she sure could
live superstitious-free for the next three weeks. Once she and Grady were
married, she’d give up superstition all together, just like she’d given up
Grandberry Falls.

The more she pushed, the more she realized the bed
wasn’t budging. She’d have to wait until the morning to have the handyman help
her or maybe Grady could lend a hand.

Chapter 10

Things are never quite as scary when you
have a best friend. ~ Bill Watterson

“What are you doing?”

The automatic shades parted, letting a few rays of
sun into Maggie’s bedroom. She laid the crook of her arm over her eyes.

“Get off the floor.”

Maggie squinted and then opened her eyes when the
shadow shaded the light for her.

“I had to sleep on the floor.” Maggie sat up,
pleased to see her feet were still pointed toward the wall.

“And what is wrong with your bed?” Lillian looked
confused. She handed Maggie a cup.

Maggie was never so happy to see the green Goddess
from Starbucks and her long time New York friend, Lillian Alexander. Lillian
was a pro-bono lawyer, and was going to South Africa to offer her services
after Maggie’s wedding.

“What is it about Grandberry Falls that makes you so
crazy?” Lillian leaned to the left with her right hand planted on her hip and
coffee in the other. With her hair down, she did resemble the iconic figure on
the cup, only her hair was red not green. “Get up. You have that big meeting
this afternoon.”

Maggie checked the time. 10 am? The big secretive
meeting was taking place at two and she had plenty of time to call Grady and
see why he hadn’t called. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t talked to Grady all
weekend. He hadn’t even called to see what they got from the shower.

Lillian would make herself at home while Maggie
called Grady.

When he went with the guys to Cabo and didn’t call
her the entire weekend, she threw a fit. Her anger was short-lived when the
Tiffany diamond tennis bracelet fit perfectly on her wrist.

“Please leave a message.” Grady’s answering machine
picked up on the first ring.

Maggie immediately dialed his office.

“Hi, Maureen. It’s Maggie. Is Grady there?” Maggie
could hear his assistant clicking on the computer. She was great at fielding
his calls and that’s the one thing he liked about her, but Maggie didn’t.

“Hi, Ms. Greenlee. Mr. Cohen is in a very important
meeting. I know he’d love to talk to you, so can he call you back?” Maureen
wasn’t making it very easy for Maggie to forgive Grady. Maggie thought Grady
should always take her calls.  

Still, Maggie didn’t like another women being a
gatekeeper between her and her fiancé.

“That’s fine. Tell him I’m home and can’t wait to
see him.” Maggie didn’t wait for Maureen to respond, she hung up and went to
find Lillian in the office on the computer.

“I need your help.” Maggie looked over Lillian’s
shoulder. “How do you have so many friends?” Her Facebook friends seemed
endless where Maggie only had a few.

Maggie flicked the overhead lights on. Anything to
make the dark wood-panel room lighter. Grady said it was elegant, a business
man’s dream. And if he was going to work at home a few times a week, he needed
the dark panel muse. Maggie found it odd he believed in muses, but not
superstitions.

“I have to move my bed around. I can’t sleep with my
feet facing the door until after the wedding.” Maggie was hoping Lillian would
help her maneuver the bed around to the other side of the wall. Grady would
hate it, but she’d use the great view of the city from the bed to entice his
pleasures.

Lillian twirled the leather chair around with her
toes clicking on the hard-wood floor. “Why?”

Maggie plopped down on the leather chaise. With a
weary look, she spoke, “I know Grady doesn’t believe in superstition, but I
overheard a girl in Grandberry Falls say she had a dream that Grady left me at
the altar.”

Lillian snorted, and put her hand to her mouth. “And
what does rearranging your bedroom have to do with this?”

Maggie inhaled. If anyone would understand in NYC,
it’d be Lillian. “I’m going to try to debunk that girl’s dream. To help break a
superstition, you must sleep with your feet pointed away from the door. And if
moving my bed around will help me feel better—then I’m moving my bed around.
With or without your help. ”

Maggie got up and went into the foyer to get her
duffle bag. She had to get this done before work and before Grady got home. If
she did it herself or with the help of someone other than Grady, she wouldn’t
have to explain why she wanted to move the bed, it would already be done and
he’d have to accept it.

The mail was still on the round table in the middle
of the foyer from the weekend. The maid had left it for them so they’d get it
when they walked in.

“Strange.” Maggie picked up the mail. Didn’t Grady
come by the Penthouse at all this weekend? He goes through the mail before he
kisses her, so for it still to be there struck a chord in her.

“What’s strange?” Lillian walked in and picked up an
envelope off the floor. Her eyebrows lowered. “What’s this?”

Maggie took it, but didn’t seem to hear Lillian. She
was too focused on opening the envelope where her name was simply printed in
Grady’s handwriting.

Nervously, she began to read the letter out loud, “Dearest
Maggie, I’m sorry. I love you. I do. But I’m not
in
love with you. I
don’t expect you to understand. One day you will look back at this and thank me
for not bringing you into a life that you could never live in. All my love, Grady.”

Everything went black.

Chapter 11

Superstition: If you have a dream that
you are running, your life is going to dramatically change.

There was no sense in lying in bed with the rain
beating down on the old farmhouse tin roof. Normally, Mitch would welcome the
tinging sound, but waking up to a nightmare was weighing heavily on his mind.
Especially one where he was running.

From what, he didn’t remember. Only his heart was
racing and his forehead was beaded with sweat. The more he tried to remember
the dream, the more Hazel Greenlee’s words rang in his head.