Maggie’s eyes widen. The blush in her cheeks travels down the length of her neck. I might feel guilty about encouraging this if I wasn’t enjoying myself so much.
“Come on, Magpie,” I say, using the name I’ve heard Kirsten use. “You and I can write a love story together, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” she manages. I can’t help but smile triumphantly. I expected Maggie to have a better poker face, especially in front of her patrons at an event in her own coffee shop, but despiteher obvious attempt to appear unbothered, Maggie’s nostrils flare.
We make our way to the stage—me from one end of the room, Maggie from another—and meet at the crates I stacked for the stairs. I hold out a hand to assist her, but she snubs it and marches up the steps on her own.
“I have a feeling this one’s going to be good,” the woman with the mic says. “Now, remember to use your own names for the story. Not that you’re the characters in your tale; it’s just easier to keep track of the couples and the stories this way.”
Maggie nods and smears her palms down her pants. A pair of form-fitting slacks that show off her thin but curvy figure.
We each take hold of a mic and turn to the one running the show.
She looks at us in turn. “You’ll start, Maggie. Whenever you hear the beep, stop where you are and let the other pick up, even if it means they finish your?—”
“Sentence?” I blurt, hoping to gain a little favor with the crowd. Heck, most of them probably already know and like Maggie.
The gal hosting laughs along with a few in the crowd. “Exactly,” she says. “Now, let the love story begin.”
8
Maggie
This guy is something else, isn’t he? That’s the only thing running through my mind as I grip the mic with my admittedly sweaty hand. I don’t want to use it to tell some love story to the crowd with Braxton as my partner. I want to clutch the thing tight and bop him upside the head with it.
I want to embarrass him as much as this is embarrassing me, but so far, the handsome guy with his snarky grin seems to be enjoying himself. While I’m at it, I’d like to strangle Kirsten and Beau for doing this to me when I made it very clear I didn’t wantanything to do with Braxton.
“Once upon a time…” JJ, who I’m irrationally angry with as well, starts with a nod in my direction.
My mouth goes dry as I glare in Kirsten’s direction. Why did she and Beau do this to me? Had they given Braxton a heads-up? Was this the plan all along? Maybe it’s the only reason they agreed to come.
Braxton clears his throat loudly in the mic. Giggles sound over the crowd.
“Let her warm up for a minute,” JJ suggests. “Nod to me when you’re ready.”
I pull the mic away from my lips to release a shaky breath. What in the crap am I going to say?
At last, I think of something, a roundabout way to take a jab at him. I nod to JJ.
“Once upon a time,” she says again.
“There was a woman named Maggie who wanted to have a boat built. She already had one boat that she loved very much because her greatest, oldest friend crafted it for her. She was told a boatbuilder named Braxton might do a good job on a second boat, so she had him come out to give her a bid.”
I shoot a look at Braxton and catch the corner of his mouth lifting on one side.
“But instead of focusing on the boat she wanted him to build, Braxton, who’s as humble as a prancing peacock, started picking apart the boat her dear friend had built.”
Ding!
I lower my mic, pleased to see that Braxton is looking a bit flustered.
“What dear little Maggie didn’t realize,”he says, “is that big, strong Braxton was aprofessionalboat maker, meaning he knew better than she did that the boat was in poor form. But that didn’t stop Maggie from pouting up a storm and almost refusing to have Braxton build the new boat even though there was no one better suited for the job.”
The audience chuckles, and I realize how obvious it probably is that this story is personal.
“In fact,” he continues, looping a thumb through a loop in his tool belt. “Maggie made her assistant call to accept his bid, which was not only immature but also discouraging. Braxton was almost positive she didn’t like him, but then…” His brow lifts, and he turns his devilish gaze on me.
But then what?My mind scrambles. I do not want JJ to pass this on to me when I have no idea how to direct where he’s going. But I also want her to stop Braxton before he can take it any further.
