He doesn’t say anything. Just raises his hand to get the attention of a passing bus boy and asks for him to call him a cab.
There are tears burning behind my eyes, but I manage to keep them at bay. I get my purse and fish out my wallet. I know whatever money I have in there is for groceries for the week, but I won’t let him pay, not now. I’ll show him.
Suddenly his hand reaches out and grabs my wrist, holding me in place. “Keep it,” he says gruffly. “I know how much you need it.”
Then he brings a wad of cash out and throws it down on the table. “Come on,” he says to me as he gets up, pulling on his jacket. “Cab will be here soon.”
“I can get Pike to pick me up,” I tell him feebly, staring at his money on the table, wishing I had enough pride that I would still pay. But I’m not that proud. I have no pride, not anymore.
“You’re getting a cab.” He jerks his head toward the front doors. “Come on.”
I take in a shaking breath and get to my feet, walking behind him with my head down, afraid to look at the other tables. Though I’m sure our argument wasn’t heard or witnessed by anyone, I still feel like everyone is looking at me and pitying me.
There goes Maggie McPherson, they’d whisper to each other.
Poor thing.
White trash.
Such a shame what happened to her parents.
Now she’s in charge of all of them.
She can’t do it on her own.
That man is way too good for her.
Sugar daddy.
I think she’s a prostitute now.
How desperate she must be.
I follow Viktor out of the restaurant and into the night, the stars above us like tiny lanterns but I find no beauty in it. If only I could turn back time, we could have avoided all of that. We could have stepped out of here drunk and full and happy and maybe he’d say something romantic about the stars, or maybe he’d say something about sex and then we’d still get a cab but instead of standing apart like two strangers, maybe we’d be falling into each other. Smiling, laughing, touching, excited for the night to come.
If only I could turn back time, the two of us may have embarked on a very different future, maybe one that involved us together.
But I can’t turn back time. I wished with all my might that I could the night my parents died, and I wish it now, but it hasn’t worked, and it will never work.
I am stuck with this new reality.
I am stuck, period.
The cab pulls up and to my relief it’s not Earl White again, just some old guy.
Viktor strides over to the driver and hands him a wad of cash through the window and then, then he somehow still has his manners, and he opens the back door to me, gesturing for me to get inside.
“Get in. He’s taking you home. Or wherever thirty dollars will get you.”
Now this, this feels like a walk of shame. Deep shame. “I’m so sorry,” I tell him as I get in the backseat.
“Goodbye Maggie,” he says without even looking at me and then slams the door in my face.
That door slamming was like the closing of a prison door on every dream and hope and what ifs I had blooming inside me tonight.
Now that bloom has wilted, dead.
The cab drives off, the driver asking where he’s to take me.
But all I can do is just sit there.
Sit there and think about how royally things got fucked up.
I burst into tears and cry all the way home.
Chapter Ten
Viktor
Fuck.
It’s past midnight.
I’ve not been able to sleep for a second.
I’ve been tossing and turning in bed, then watching TV, then pacing up and down the room. I have a nest of hornets in my heart, buzzing around viciously, their barbs stinging the same wound over and over again.
She knows who I am.
Maggie, this girl of sweetness and light, was hiding a secret just as big as mine.
I was such an idiot to think she couldn’t see the truth. Of course, she knew the truth, had ulterior motives. Why else would she have come to my rescue like that at the bar? Did I really think it was from the goodness of her heart?
I feel like an idiot. I am an idiot.
I was so blinded by her beauty, her body, the way she looked at me, the way I wanted nothing more than to bury my head between her soft legs and make her cheeks go that rosy pink, that I didn’t even consider she could have had another motive.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I know I shouldn’t be so upset about this, that I should have seen it coming. But for a moment there…I wanted to talk about Alex. About how he died. I wanted to share with her parts of me I don’t share with anyone, not even Dr. Bonakov. I wanted to unload on her all the vile, bitter things that have been dragging me under into the raging darkness, this darkness that I know I can never escape.
Lilies.
And to think she knew exactly what I was talking about.
But that wasn’t for show.
That was the truth, her truth.
Her parents were murdered and the moment I found that out in the cab was the moment that I vowed to myself I would do everything I could to make her life better. If I was drawn to her before, after that I was affixed.
Bewitched.
All of that is gone now. That vow shattered like the scant bit of trust I had in her.
But perhaps I had more trust in this girl, this stranger, than I thought I did.
Maybe it’s why this hurts so much.
This betrayal feels bigger than it is because she was starting to mean more to me than she should. Like she had never been a stranger to begin with.
And maybe that’s why I can’t help but cringe when I think about the way her face fell, the open remorse and embarrassment and shame in her eyes when I found that recording. I’d never seen someone crumble like that right in front of me. Her hope and joy disintegrated in a second.
I was angry. Disappointed. I still am.
But I could have acted like more of a gentleman. I didn’t have to slam that cab door on her. I could have handled all of this with more grace and understanding. Always more, never less.
I’m nothing close to being the prince I need to be.
I sigh and sit down on the bed, head in my hands. I need to talk to someone, but I don’t have many people to talk to. I felt Maggie could have been–or was–that someone, but I was wrong. There’s always Freddie but he’s so clinical with the way he handles me. And my parents–forget it.
I pick up my phone and check the time. It’s past midnight here so it’s morning in Europe. Though I haven’t talked to him other than a few texts here and there since I left on this trip, I call Magnus.
Magnus is the Crown Prince of Norway. Heir to the throne, oldest brother of four wild sisters. Doesn’t help that he’s quite wild himself, showing up in the tabloids practically every day. No wonder everyone in that royal family drinks too much.
It takes a few rings before he answers.
“Hello?” he mumbles, sounding half asleep.
“Magnus. Did I wake you up?”
He groans, switching to Swedish. “No. I mean yes. But I suppose I should get up.”
“Are you alone?”
I can practically hear him grin over the phone. “I am now. She left in the night.”
“Doesn’t that get a bit awkward?” Magnus is a bit of a playboy, to put it mildly.
“They understand,” he says through a yawn. “Less paparazzi waiting outside when it’s the night. My driver takes them right home. No harm, no foul.” He clears his throat. “How is your trip? When do you come home?”
“My flight out of Los Angeles is in a week.”
“And your trip is going…?”
“Honestly, it’s been life-changing. The best experience I’ve ever had. I never once wanted to come home. Until now.”
“Uh oh. What happened? Wait, don’t tell me. It??
?s about a woman.”
I hesitate. I hate that he’s right. “It could be.”
“Viktor,” he says, sounding delighted. “The fucking moose comes out to play.”
Moose. I haven’t heard that nickname in a while.
“It’s not what you think. At all.”
“Okay then tell me. What did this woman do that made you want to come home? Suck you off the wrong way?”
“I think you’re mistaking me for you.”
He laughs. “Okay, then what?”
I explain the situation as best I can, starting with me getting stuck in this town, then going to the bar, all the way to me sitting here in this hotel room, the very hotel she works at, on a long-distance call.
When I’m done, he lets out a long, low whistle. “That’s complicated,” he says. “Far too complicated for a vacation.”
“Right, well it’s what happened.”
“So now you’re going to what, just get your car fixed and go to LA and forget all of this ever happened?”
“That’s the plan.”
“That’s the plan?”
“I guess.”
“You guess.”
“Stop that.”
“You’re just going to leave this girl and not talk to her again.”
I really don’t like the sound of that but…“Yes.”
“You’re lying.”
“How am I lying?”
“I know you. You may pretend to not give a fuck, but you always give a fuck. You’re noble, you big moose, far more noble than I will ever be. This girl sounds like she’s been handed the shittiest hand in life and you’re just going to up and leave her?” He laughs. “Tell me, don’t you think there’s a chance she might be telling the truth?”
“About what?”
“That she didn’t know who you were before that evening.”
“How would I be able to tell if she’s telling the truth or not? I don’t even know her. That much was made apparent.”
“Hey, I know you don’t always think with your dick the way that I do, but if you’re hung up on her because you just wanted a quick fuck, then obviously you should just give up on that and head to LA where I’m sure plenty of women will be willing to suck you off, just like they are clamoring to do back in Sweden.” He pauses. “Which, by the way, I don’t understand how your name isn’t always in the papers like mine is.”
“Because I’m discreet about who I fuck. A little discretion can go a long way, Magnus.”
“Yeah, yeah. You sound like…well, everyone. But okay, so this girl, if you want something more than just a fuck, if you feel something else toward her like you seem to do, well then I don’t think you’re about to up and leave.”
“I barely know her,” I remind him. “What can I feel toward someone I’ve known for twenty-four hours?”
“I wouldn’t know,” he says. “But I imagine it’s possible. And I’ve never had you actually pick up your phone and call me over a woman before.”
He’s right about that. But it does nothing to extinguish the flames in my chest.
“Look,” he says. “I think you know whether she’s telling the truth or not.”
“Then what if she is? She still recorded me, without my knowledge, for an article or a gossip magazine or whatever. She still did that.”
“But she told you she wasn’t going to use it in the end and you have to decide whether you believe that or not. The girl sounds like she was desperate and desperate people do things they normally wouldn’t do. Shit, if I had a kroner for every time a girl I slept with sold me out for the tabloids, well, I’d have a lot more money than I have now.”
“I think you have enough money, Magnus,” I say dryly.
“Not the point, moose. Besides, you never told her who you were. She had to find out for herself. So she put up with you and your fake name and your fake background, spewing your lies. What if she hadn’t found out you were Viktor? What if she never knew and you ended up sleeping with her and ended up falling for her? Then what? She’d have to then eventually find out the truth about you, find out she fell in love with a lie, and then your relationship would crash and burn. Jeez, come to think of it, I think what happened to you now was the better option.”
Fuck. I hadn’t thought about it that way. The fact that if anything had grown between us, it would have been based on the lies I was telling. That one day I would have had to tell her I wasn’t who she thought I was.
“Well this is just all shit then, isn’t it?” I sigh.
“Sounds like it. Well, if you don’t mind, I have to get up and start my day.”
“Do you have an important engagement or are you base-jumping off a cliff or something?” Magnus is also a bit of an adrenaline junkie, much to the worry of his parents, and, well, the country.
“Car racing,” he says, and I know he’s smiling. “Going down to Monaco tomorrow for a race, then maybe some gambling.”
“Pretending to be James Bond?”
“Something like that. Hey, good luck, Viktor.”
He hangs up and just like that I feel thrust into the silence and loneliness that comes with the middle of the night.
I stare at the phone in my hands, wishing that I had gotten Maggie’s number at some point. I honestly have no contact information for her, I just know her address.
I could write her a letter.
But what would I say?
I’m sorry that you lied to me.
No.
I’m sorry I lied to you.
Your lies don’t matter, you never owed me the truth.
I just want you to know I don’t harbor any bad feelings, just a simmering sadness that I missed a different path to what could have been.
But that path would have been based on lies anyway.
I’m sorry that it had to be this way.
Good luck with everything.
Fuck.
Good luck. I hate that term. I know that Magnus just said it to me but what it really implies is that you will need luck. And you only need it if you can’t make it on your own.
I can make it on my own.
I don’t have to tell Maggie, good luck, and then be done with her. I have control here, over my future and hers.
I step out of my pajama pants and into a pair of jeans, throwing on a sweater, then grab my wallet and phone and head downstairs to the lobby.
The night clerk has that glazed zombie look that most shift workers have.
“Is it too late to get a cab?” I ask.
The clerk shrugs. “We’ll see,” he says, monotone, as he picks up his phone and dials.
Turns out it’s not and ten minutes later a cab pulls up outside the hotel.
It’s that damn Earl White guy from earlier, the one who knew Maggie.
“You again,” the guy says as I get in. “How was your dinner?”
“It was fine. I, uh, forgot something at her house. Do you mind taking me there?”
“It’s pretty late, pal.”
“Yes, well, you know jet lag.”
He frowns at me and shrugs, starts driving. “Sure. Just tell me that you’re looking out for that girl.”
“Maggie?”
“Yeah, Maggie. I can tell you’re not from around here so I’m not sure you know the details but what happened to her parents is the worst thing this town has ever seen. Now you’d think that being a prison town we’d be used to it, but frankly, that was above and beyond what’s normal.”
“And what happened, exactly?”
“She hasn’t told you?” he eyes me in the mirror.
“No,” I tell him. “I don’t blame her.”
“I guess that’s not exactly conversation for a date, is it?”
I just give him a tight smile, hoping he’ll continue.
He does. “Well, shit, it was about a year ago. You know, I knew her father because he’d often go to the bar after his shift, he was a prison guard and they’re heavy drinkers. Can’t blame them, handling all th
e shit that they do,” he says, wiping his nose with one fat, hairy hand. “So I used to drive him home a lot. He was a good guy though, didn’t drink and drive as you can see, worked hard to put food on the table. Wasn’t the smartest with his money, had a bit of a gambling problem but we all have our vices. I mean, I’m no angel.”
“No one is,” I offer politely.
“Anyhoo, I guess there was this punk at the prison, a real troublemaker, violent, messed up, and he had it out for her father or maybe her father had it out for him. Either way, they were always at odds. Then one day this guy gets out on parole. Comes over to their house. Shoots both her father and mother in the head while they were watching TV. Shot the dog too. Thank god that she wasn’t home, that none of the kids were. They would have been killed too, I know it.”
I have no words for that. Alex’s death traumatized me and yet here was Maggie and her brothers and sisters having to lose both parents in such a way. I just can’t fathom it.
Suddenly I’m more confident in what I have to do.
“So are you dating her or what? You her boyfriend?” he asks me.
I shake my head. “No. Just a friend. Just passing through.”
“Ah, that’s too bad,” he says. “She’s such a pretty girl. Funny with a smart mouth on her. I like her. It would be nice to see her get some support. I know her brother helps out from what I hear but even so, you know, how tough that’s gotta be.”
I nod, and we lapse into a silence for the rest of the ride until we’re pulling up the street of her house.
“Hey, do you mind parking here and waiting? I’ll pay for your time.”
“How much time?” he asks, the light from the streetlamp glinting off his balding head.
I hand him fifty bucks. “As much time as this buys me.”
He looks at it, his eyes narrowing. “Ten minutes?”
I glare at him. Give me a break.
My look changes his mind. “Okay, however long you need.”
I get out and walk over to her house. The lights are all out and the way the moonlight is hitting it, accentuating the peeling paint and missing boards, makes it look like a haunted house. In fact, now that I know her parents were actually murdered in the house, it only adds to the feeling.