“Then thank you, Kelsey,” she said with a forced laugh. Then she took the long trek back to her room, her head so full she forgot she was hungry.
“Almost done,” Maybelle said, sliding a pin into the most perfect blonde hair she’d ever worked on. Winter sat in her seat, stretching her short legs out in front of her and wiggling her toes. She’d been a bit wiggly, and Maybelle couldn’t blame her; she’d been pinning and braiding and curling for over an hour now, but it was near perfect.
“I know it’s a long time to sit still,” she said, sliding the last pin into Winter’s long blonde hair. All she had left was the sparkling pink and blue sapphire accents, and she leaned back, contemplating on where to put them.
Winter shifted in her seat. “Something I’m definitely not known for.”
Maybelle silently chuckled, tilting her head at a stubborn strand of hair that kept falling from the loose braid. Maybe if she curled it…
She worked in silence for a few more moments, loving that Winter had given her free reign with the styling. When she was invited up to Winter’s top floor suite, which was beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, she’d nearly let out a classic Maybelle squeal when Winter sat down in front of a dressing mirror and said, “Make me pretty!” That was the only direction she got, other than to match the icy blue dress Winter planned on wearing that night.
Winter let out a long sigh, a frown pulling the corners of her mouth down. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’ve had such a rotten time here.”
Maybelle’s brow furrowed, and she scrambled for a way to excuse her non-social behavior the past couple days. Yesterday she’d used the headache excuse, but this morning she’d tried to be present, enjoy the last full day of the mansion. But watching Michael act his heart out and share longing looks with her didn’t help, and Garreth was awkwardly aloof, avoiding eye contact whenever she dared look his way.
She’d interacted with people, though. She hadn’t been a recluse all day, had she?
Maybe Will opened his big mouth and spilled the beans on her wanting to leave. “Who…” she started, but then backtracked. “I mean, what made you think that?”
Winter turned in her seat, the one section of hair Maybelle hadn’t curled yet still hanging loose, framing her face. Her crystal gray eyes flickered with concern.
“I know a sad face when I see one,” she said. Maybelle instantly felt the need to smile, just to prove her wrong.
“I was just sick yesterday,” she said, waving her hand and spinning Winter back around. It was easier to lie when she was talking to the back of her head. “Must’ve been all the excitement.”
“Oh.” Winter sighed again, and Maybelle hoped that even though she was sure Winter didn’t believe her, she’d let it slide. But Winter seemed to want some reassurance. “Will seemed to think you were ready to leave.”
So he had said something. Maybelle held back a growl of annoyance at her brother and blurted, “Will needs to mind his own.” It was one thing to stay for him, but another for him to go blabbing about her drama to someone she barely knew.
Winter fell quiet, but she nibbled at her lip like it was taking everything in her not to respond. Maybelle took a calming breath and placed a few of the decorative pins between the braids. “Geez, I’m sorry,” she said, her shoulders slumping. “Promise I’m a bright and sunny person on normal days.”
“I know.” Winter grinned, and a wave of relief went through Maybelle. She’d hate her unusually rotten mood to put a damper on this interaction that was basically a job interview. The influence Winter had would be invaluable if Maybelle impressed her.
“That’s why I know something’s wrong.”
Maybelle let out a hollow laugh. “You sure it wasn’t Will and his big mouth?” If her brother was talking to Winter about her, maybe that was good for them, but she wasn’t too thrilled about that idea.
“He didn’t say anything about it,” Winter assured her with faux annoyance. “It’s been painfully irritating.”
A newfound respect for Will settled in Maybelle’s chest, and she grabbed the curling iron with a genuine smile on her face. “Well, rest assured, it isn’t you or the mansion or the murder mystery that has me in this sour mood.”
Winter frowned. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Why not? You barely know me.” Surely she couldn’t care about her mood if she had nothing to do with it, but Winter genuinely looked concerned, like it was her fault she was stuck in a Garreth-Michael pendulum.
“I hate seeing happy people sad.”
Happy people… Yeah, she’d been labeled as happy Maybelle Monroe for as long as she could remember. Happy Maybelle, taking herself on dates. Happy Maybelle, going to block socials solo. Happy Maybelle, always there to console friends with their relationship problems.
Happy Maybelle, who isn’t really happy at all.
“You are good people, Princess,” she said, pulling the strand of hair free from the iron and letting it bounce back perfectly against her face. She swept it to the side, grinning at her masterpiece. It was perfect. “And you’re done.”
She sucked in a breath and held it as she removed the dress she’d hung over the mirror so Winter would be surprised at the reveal. A small gasp slipped through Winter’s teeth, and she rose from her seat to get closer to the mirror.
“Maybelle, look how gorgeous I look!”
Maybelle covered a laugh as Winter inspected every inch of her hairstyle, even jumping up and down to make sure it would stay in place. Pride swelled Maybelle’s chest, and she thought maybe… Well, maybe she was happy sometimes. This was definitely one of them.
“I can’t believe you aren’t doing this for a living already,” Winter said, gently running her hand over the top of her head. “I don’t want to ever take this out.”
Thinking of all the pins in there, Maybelle said, “Well, it won’t be that comfortable to sleep on.”
“Then I’ll stay awake forever,” Winter teased. She bounced on her toes, and Maybelle thought of how perfect she’ll look in her dress, twirling around on the dance floor. Will better appreciate this and give Winter major compliments tonight, or so help her…
“You’ll have to tell me how it goes,” she said, unplugging the iron. She’d resolved to skip the dance earlier that day when Garreth had taken one look at Maybelle, stopped and stuttered, then turned right back around. Watching him dance with someone else would be too hard, and if by some miracle Michael asked to dance, she wasn’t sure she could do that without worrying over what Garreth thought about it, if he would care, if he’d feel second best.
Winter twirled around, her hair staying in place. “You’re not going?”
Maybelle shook her head, and Winter grabbed her wrists.
“No, you have to. The murderer will be revealed tonight. There will be food, dancing, fun. I’ll dance with you.”
Maybelle laughed. “I’m pretty sure your dance card is full,” she said, thinking of her brother.
“Please?” Man, she was not giving up on it, and Maybelle felt her resolve melting just as much as it had the other night when she’d wanted to run back home. “Who am I going to point to when everyone inevitably asks me who did my hair?”
Maybelle rolled her eyes, a blush heating her cheeks at the compliment. Winter squeezed her wrists.
“You can go through my closet.”
She’d love that, if only she wasn’t a size sixteen while Winter was sure to be a size four. “I couldn’t possibly fit into anything you own.”
“You could fit in my mother’s dresses.” Winter had an answer for everything, and she nudged Maybelle with a playful elbow and lilted, “She has some red carpet ones in there.”
“No,” Maybelle said on reflex. A red carpet dress? That wasn’t just a fantasy—that was a dream come true, something she’d never thought would happen to her in her lifetime.
“Yes.” Winter’s gray eyes sparkled with excitement, and Maybelle felt a squeal building in her
throat, and this time, she could not contain it. Winter must’ve taken that as a resounding yes to her offer, because she pulled Maybelle by the arm and dragged her to the elevator. Apparently another floor held this closet full of size sixteen dresses, and for the first time that day, Maybelle looked forward to the dance that night.
A thousand twinkling lights sparkled in the ballroom, creating magic for the last night in the mansion. Guests in formal wear chatted and danced alongside the actors while a string quartet accompanied. Maybelle held back a laugh at poor Ms. Vancouver who’d become the first victim of her brother’s dancing.
“Well, he looks like he’s having fun,” Winter said as she sidled up next to her. Maybelle once again gave herself props when she gave Winter a once over. She looked absolutely stunning, and she was sure the tripping her brother was doing wasn’t entirely due to his lack of coordination.
“Gosh, it’s so pretty,” Maybelle said, looking around the room. “Can’t believe y’all get to live like this every day.”
Winter snorted and waved her off. “It’s not all that glamorous. Most of this stuff is for you guys. When it’s just me, this place gets kinda creepy.”
She could only imagine. Maybelle was often alone, but she made sure she never showed loneliness. It would only ramp up the pitied looks she received on a daily basis. Luckily she had Will, and sometimes Momma, when she wasn’t traveling the world.
“Is that why you decided on this?” she asked, gesturing to the guests. “Murder mysteries, hotel amore?”
“Yes,” Winter replied without an ounce of embarrassment. “Try living in all this alone for more than a month. Bet you anything you’d go crazy.”
“Heavens, I go crazy in just my two bedroom cottage when Momma ain’t around.”
They laughed together, their giggles vibrating the room, and Maybelle couldn’t help but notice how happy her brother looked as he watched them.
“You know…” Winter said with a soft tap to Maybelle’s wrist. “My regular hairstylist is pregnant.”
Maybelle jerked back with a laugh. “That’s outta left field, but okay.”
“I was just thinking, if you’re up for it… I know it’s a heck of a decision, but if you ever feel like living like this for a while…” She playfully tugged at Maybelle’s deep blue dress that she never wanted to take off.
Maybelle’s heart fluttered. “You mean, come work for you?”
“For a bit, while she’s on maternity leave.”
A job offer. Temporary, but a real job offer. Maybelle had gone her whole life living under the care of her momma and her brother, only doing hair on the side, scrounging up money of her own while she could, contributing when she could. This would be a stepping stone, something she could do for herself, and she never thought it would feel this way—fulfilling, exciting, as great as she imagined being proposed to would feel.
Before she could answer a resounding yes, Will had managed to work his way over to them, an awkward smile on his face. Maybelle caught a glance at Winter, who was shining ten times brighter than she had when Will was across the room.
“Hey you,” Winter said in a very poor southern accent. Maybelle pursed her lips, holding back the excitement of watching these two complete opposites flirt with one another.
“Wow,” Will sputtered, and the word jolted through Maybelle like a lightning bolt. Her eyes quickly scanned the room, waiting to land on Garreth, hoping that one day he might offer up that same sentiment to her again.
“…I have Bells to thank,” Winter said, knocking Maybelle back into their conversation with the sound of her name.
“I don’t know about that,” Will joked, and Maybelle gave him a playful punch in the arm that ended up being a little harder than she’d intended. He grimaced and rubbed his arm out. “You wanna dance, Frosty?”
He called her Frosty. Oh… he was gone. Will only nicknamed those important to him, and Maybelle could see it all now—wedding cake and Momma crying during Will’s vows and Winter asking Maybelle to do her hair for her. She saw nieces and nephews, visiting Will and Winter while holding their brand new baby. She could see the life here in Michigan equally as clear as in Alabama, and excitement bubbled up through her.
That could be happy for her. Watching her brother find love and a family? That could be very happy.
Then she thought about Ms. Vancouver and snorted. “You? Dance?” she teased and looked at Winter. “Boy hasn’t danced a day in his life. You shoulda seen him with poor Ms. Vancouver just now.”
“It was bad, huh,” Winter said, joining in on the teasing. She’d make such a fun sister-in-law. Maybelle embraced the fantasy this time, knowing that it was a good one, and more of a possibility than any of her own.
“I think she’s icing her feet as we speak.”
Will’s ears were up in smoke, and he looked about ready to give Maybelle a much deserved noogie. She wrinkled her nose at him, grinning and feeling lighter than she had all day.
“That sounds exactly like my dancing,” Winter said, slapping her hand into Will’s. His eyes grew big, and he shared a stunned glance with Maybelle. “Let’s see who can put who in the hospital first.”
Winter pulled Will away, gesturing to the musicians who then began an up-tempo number. Then they both flailed around like lunatics, but the joy emanating from them was contagious. Soon everyone was in on the dancing, even Maybelle, who was partner-less.
As she spun around on the dance floor, swinging her hips and laughing with random dancing guests, it occurred to her that being alone wasn’t so bad. She wasn’t really alone; she had friends and family, and if she took this job offer, she’d make more. She’d experience so much. And she’d always have herself, and she wasn’t such bad company when she wasn’t obsessing over getting married.
There was a tiny throb of loss that was buried deep within her at the moment, but she didn’t think that would ever go away. But it could get smaller.
A laugh floated from her mouth as Will tripped and nearly took Winter down with him.
“I warned ya!” she gleefully called out, and next thing she knew, a strong hand had wrapped around her wrist and spun her into a wall of muscle. Her breath steeled away, the echoes of her laughter still surrounding them.
“You…” he said in his baritone, his bright teeth sparkling behind his pink lips, “are gorgeous.”
She found her breath, taking in a deep inhale before meeting Michael’s eyes. Her palms felt warm and sticky in his grasp. “Thank you.”
His mouth turned up into a grin, and he looped her under his arm before pulling her back. The music fell into a slower rhythm, but her heart was still pounding to the faster beat.
“It’s been a slow torture, you know,” he said, holding her close. His suit was warm and tailored to his perfect form. She wondered how her eyes hadn’t been glued to him all night.
“What has?”
“These past couple of days without you around.” He swayed her to the music, and she was only half paying attention to the steps. “The entire group has felt it.”
She let out a laugh. “I doubt that.”
“I swear it. People like being around you.”
She wasn’t so sure of that. Her eyes fell, and she begged them not to seek out Garreth. She could only take so many avoided glances.
Michael must’ve sensed her doubt, because he tapped her chin, coaxing her gaze back to his. His deep eyes were burning, sending flames up and down the sides of her neck.
“I like being around you.”
She gulped, laughing awkwardly at his forward words. They’d spent a day and a half hardly speaking to one another, and that time felt so much longer given how little they’d known each other. Her grip tightened on his arm, and she prayed to Cupid for some of that time back. It was good to feel adored, addicting to see the passion behind a man’s gaze for her. For her. It was so new, so unfamiliar, and she couldn’t get enough.
But was that the only reason why she felt so much arou
nd Michael? She craved to be desired?
He chuckled, quiet vibrations ricocheting up her arms from the sound. “It’s weird to only have one sided conversations with you.”
She cut out of her confused trance and playfully tapped his massive bicep. “I didn’t wanna be overheard, is all.” It was the truth. Her loud voice carried so well over so many things, and Garreth was sure to be in the room somewhere. The memory of the hurt in his eyes was still fresh in her memory, but if she saw it again, she was sure she wouldn’t be able to erase it.
Yet, selfishly, she wanted to see him ache for her, miss her, look at her the way Michael was.
She shook her head free of her horrid thoughts.
Michael grinned and spun her under his arm again, and when he pulled her in, he held her even closer, even tighter. His hand was firm and sure on the small of her back, and his eyes couldn’t stay in one place. They skated over her hair, drifted over her shoulders, paused at her lips… She didn’t think she could ever feel more desirable than she did in that moment.
“I know who did it!”
The voice jolted everyone from their dancing, and Maybelle slowly slipped from Michael’s grasp, only just catching Will and Winter in a tight embrace before they too stepped away from each other.
Alexis marched right into the crowd, a wide grin on her face and trusty notepad in hand. The actress playing the detective was at her side, going along with the obvious improvisation.
“I’ve solved it,” Alexis announced, beaming. Winter frowned, and Maybelle glanced around the room again, searching, hoping to lock eyes with those deep chocolate ones who had solved the mystery days ago. She couldn’t see over some of the taller guests, so she crept around, poking her head up like a meerkat.
The act continued to play out, Michael now even saying some lines in his deep baritone. Maybelle’s dress caught on the bassist’s bow, and she whispered hushed apologies, trying not to disturb anyone paying attention to the reveal. When she finally untangled herself, she spotted her target.