“I know the Inn, Maggie,” he snapped, then softened. “I knew about it even before Edward approached me, and part of his pitch was laying out the numbers, so I know high-end dinner fare will sell. Still, I expected something sleepy—I mean, hell, this is Vermont. But it’s been buzzing here lately. I saw you on TV, by the way—at least, I think it was you going into that woman’s house and then, this week, going into court?” He studied my face, and suddenly, in my own home, I felt exposed. “You look different from how you used to.”
I pressed my lips together, then nodded. “Older.”
“That, too.” His phone dinged. He pulled it from his pocket, took a quick look, slid it back.
“Did Mom see?” I asked, trying to be casual about it, like I didn’t care. But I did. I wanted to know whether she thought I was being a good friend to a good friend or was still associating with the wrong people.
“You on TV? I don’t know. I left a month ago.” He lowered his voice, inviting the inside scoop. “So, did the kid do it?”
When I realized no more would be coming about Mom, I said, “I don’t really know.”
“But you know his mother. She seemed shell-shocked. Definitely a looker, though.”
I wondered why men had to go with that first. “She also happens to be a good massage therapist.”
“You work with her.”
“We’re both at the Spa.”
“Does she work Sundays, too?”
I paused. “In what way is that relevant?” I dipped into my fruit. “Actually”—I relented, because the compote was warm, sweet, delicious enough to melt my pique—“she does. The best clients I get are the ones who come straight from her. They’re loose and relaxed. I should be so lucky as to have one of those today. My morning appointment is the guest of honor at a birthday lunch. I’m not sure what the afternoon one is.” I pulled out my phone to check and saw three missed calls. Two, plus a text, were from Edward’s cell.
Talk about the past rushing back? I hadn’t seen that number since the divorce. Funny that he hadn’t changed it, though with his work and all, he wouldn’t. I had definitely changed mine. The old area code would have given me away in two seconds flat. Edward must have gotten my new number from my file at the Inn.
The third call was from Grace, who had been so hard to reach that I returned it there and then, albeit in a low voice. “Hey.”
“Maggie.” She sounded winded. “Can you do my hair this morning?”
“Uh, I think so. I have a ten o’clock—”
“It’s at eleven. They changed it. I’m looking at the schedule right now. If you get here at nine-thirty we’ll have time. I know it’s mean of me to ask this on a Sunday, but I really, really need something done.”
Leaving the table, I turned away from Liam and quietly said, “Your hair looks great. You don’t need—”
“Want. I want something done.”
I might have argued that her current something was less than a month old and that too-frequent processing would hurt her hair. But how could I argue with want? Want involved emotional issues, and Grace, of all people right now, had a right to those.
“Not raven,” I warned by way of concession.
“We’ll discuss. When can you come?”
I took the phone from my ear long enough to see that my phone screen read eight. And that Liam had nonchalantly strolled close. And that Edward was trying me again.
Confront him, Kevin had said, but I wasn’t ready. Last night’s confrontation hadn’t ended well.
Pressing ignore, I turned away from Liam, headed back to my breakfast, and told Grace, “Nine-thirty. See you then.”
“Thankyouthankyou. Bye.”
“Who was that?” Liam asked when I pocketed the phone. His own dinged.
“Someone I work with.” I took another bite of the quiche.
When he typed for a few seconds, I thought he would let it go. But no. As soon as he lowered the phone, he said, “Her?” I wasn’t sure whether he was seriously guessing or simply wanting to revive the discussion. I considered lying. An easy no would have done it. But having to lie in my own home, to my own brother?
“Yes, it was her, but that has nothing to do with anything that concerns you.” I crossed to the small whiteboard by the fridge and scrawled the number of a guy who would tow Liam’s car. “Use my name.” I had a sudden