LITMIR.BIZ

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both say polite things about not losing touch. She doubted that friends could work. It had been a slippery slope. Once she’d allowed Alex to steal like warm sunshine through the chinks in her emotional mask there’d been no way of going back. Re-finding her friend, finishing their long-overdue fling and going back to square one of their friendship had turned out to be more difficult than she’d thought.

      She’d enjoyed the ride. But the longer she stuck around the more likely she was to end up saying something she’d regret. Like I love you. The worst thing she could possibly do would be to ask for something she couldn’t have. Something he wasn’t able to give her. He would never love her back.

      She slicked on a layer of confidence-boosting lip gloss, gave herself a squirt of her new zingy perfume, grabbed her handbag and the keys to her apartment and set off for the theater. She needed to lose Alex again. And she planned to tell him soon. Would the Hamlet after-party be too soon? He’d probably be relieved. He’d be off the hook. No more scares and no more talking her down from the ceiling. Not that she’d be freaking out again. She’d got her act together.

      Alex was fantastic as Hamlet. After the performance she almost got cold feet. She was tempted to slink off home and send him a polite excuse and congrats by text. He was a magnet. She couldn’t just skulk away and de-friend him. She needed to be strong and tell him face to face.

      The first-night party was a far cry from the New York movie premiere and Cassandra’s gala dinner. It was a chilled-out do in the understated theater bar. Most people hadn’t even bothered to dress up, least of all the actors, and the director was wearing a moth-eaten old sweater and faded jeans with rips that definitely hadn’t been put there by a designer.

      Maggie strutted in to the after-party wearing her brand-new green-suede boots, circulated, made small talk with complete strangers, and held her head high until Nick spotted her.

      “Maggie. Looking good, darling.” They air-kissed. “You’ve had something done. Did you get a boob job?”

      “I changed my hair.” She shrugged. “Highlights.”

      “You’re different, though.” He put a hand to his chin and gave her his undivided consideration. “I know what it is. You got color.”

      “I’m not Monochrome Magenta anymore.”

      “Monochrome Magenta? Really?” He gave her a hug. “I’ve no idea who she is, but you were never that to me.”

      Maggie smiled. “London’s so grey. I had to do something,” she joked. She was doing a good job of covering up the jittery feeling she had waiting to see Alex. “I took it upon myself to brighten the place up.”

      “Go Maggie!”

      Nick drained the contents of his champagne flute and plucked another from a passing tray. “What are you drinking?”

      Maggie pulled a face. “Organic elderflower and melon cocktail.”

      “Yum. Get you a refill?” Maggie shook her head. Nick lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You and Alex caused quite a stir in New York. What’s the story? Are you and he …?”

      Maggie blushed. “We’re friends.”

      “What’s with you two and this ‘friends’ thing? You’re single. He’s single. You’ve obviously still got the hots for each other. ”

      Maggie couldn’t believe her ears. “Nick? Are you matchmaking?”

      He laughed. “You’ve sussed me. That’s why I persuaded the people at the magazine to book you for the Boston shoot. Not that they needed persuading. They were happy to oblige.”

      “What are you talking about?” She’d had masses of compliments on the photos they’d done, but she felt like the rug had been pulled out from under her. “What am I not getting?”

      Nick forked a hand into his blonde hair. His brown eyes pinned her with intensity. “Alex missed his moment with you once before. I thought I’d give you guys a helping hand – a shot at another chance.” He knocked back his champagne. “You two are avoiding each other like the plague. That’s the thanks I get!”

      Her heart felt too big for her chest cavity. She knew the way she got that job at the last minute was odd. “Hang on a minute. Let’s rewind this conversation. Are you telling me that I didn’t get hired for those shoots by accident? You arranged it?”

      The horror in her rising tone wasn’t lost on Nick. “If I was wide of the mark, I apologize,” he said solemnly. “I promise you. It was well meant.”

      Maggie shook her head and sighed. “What were you thinking?” Clearly he wouldn’t have done it if he’d had a crystal ball. “How could you? I mean, I get that you wanted to do something nice for Alex, but having me turn up like the Ghost of Christmas Past is a bit of risk compared to a basket of muffins.” Nick looked repentant. She should be furious. Quite apart from anything else, her pregnancy hadn’t been factored into his scheming. Thanks to his meddling, her heart was in a mess. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to be angry. “Your timing’s awful!” Her jokey tone masked sadness that sluiced through her veins. “I’m having twins.”

      “Twins?” Nick gawped. He lowered his eyes to her belly. “Are you sure?”

      She nodded.

      “Who’s having twins?” Cassandra’s interjection made Maggie jump.

      “Maggie is.”

      “With donor sperm, I hear. Congratulations, dear. I can’t recommend donor insemination highly enough. And twins! Look at the two dreamboats I got.” She clinked glasses with Nick and winked at Maggie.

      Confusion swirled in the air and tied her tongue in a knot. Alex’s family was too much. They’d hit her with a double whammy. As if Nick’s admission that he’d plotted to throw her and Alex together wasn’t bad enough, she was struggling to decipher what their mother had just come out with.

      “By the way, I’m sorry I was rude to you in New York,” Cassandra gushed. “That grandma business was quite a shock.”

      “My fault, I’m afraid.” Although, strictly speaking, Nick was to blame for turning them all into press fodder, Maggie graciously accepted culpability. “Sorry.” She was still trying to get her head around Cassandra’s revelation. Was Alex donor-conceived?

      “Don’t apologize. Actually, I’d gotten to quite like the idea when Alex told me he’s not the dad. Go figure.”

      Nick, contrition still stamped on his face, spotted someone he wanted to speak to and darted off, leaving her stranded with Cassandra. She’d been at the party for the best part of an hour and she hadn’t even said hello to Alex yet. Desperation set in. The minute she got a chance, she’d say hi and congratulations, then she’d leave. After everything she’d just heard she was ready to put her plan to distance herself straight into action.

      Cassandra unnerved Maggie. “One word of warning.” She held up a ruby-taloned index finger. “Advice, really.” Her tone softened and she tapped the nail against her glass. “Make sure you tell your kids the truth. Right from the start. Don’t keep anything from them. I made that mistake. I kept my boys in the dark, used the fact that Drake wasn’t their real dad to get at him. I …” She corrected herself. “We hurt them.” There was real remorse beneath her air of superficiality. “Now they’re hung up on not knowing who they really are.”

      Maggie’s heart thudded. Misery seeped through the cracks in her outwardly cheerful appearance. Alex knew exactly who he was – a no-commitment, no-strings guy.

      Cassandra twiddled her champagne flute distractedly. “Wasn’t Alex a marvel? It’s like Shakespeare could have written the Hamlet role especially for him.” Maggie stifled a hysterical guffaw. She didn’t want to snort organic elderflower and melon. “He always wanted to be just like Drake, despite his genes. I think he can safely say that tonight he’s proved himself.”

      Maggie

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