Chapter 11

ELEVEN

ELLIOT

“I’m broke.” Mrs. Clifton puffed her cigarette in my face. “I’m tired. I don’t want to deal with this nonsense any more. That’s why I’m signing.”

I tried not to gag and forced a smile. “All right.”

“And the playground. I like that, too.”

I nodded and tried not to breathe. “Great.”

“Now I still expect you to bring me chocolate covered pretzels, understand.”

“Of course.”

Finally, she signed the paperwork, making me an official investor in Pinecone Heights.

There were plenty of jobs that needed doing—new HVAC, new roof, repair to the cracked bricks on the west side of the building. But the first thing I wanted to do was share my good news with Maeve.

Sure, I would see her after her shift ended at the arcade when we met up for dinner, but I didn’t want to wait that long. As soon as I left Mrs. Clifton’s and climbed back in my Bronco, I searched for the perfect picture of Freddie Mercury to cut out and put alongside a unicorn.

A text came through.

It had to be Maeve. I excitedly flipped to my messages.

The text wasn’t from Maeve.

It was a photo from Armstrong.

Of his mouth on Maeve’s.

Hollowness spread across my chest, as if my soul had been ripped from my body.

They’d kissed.

I tried to rationalize it. There had to be some logical explanation.

They’d dated, so it could be an old photo. It had to be old.

What if it wasn’t?

They had history together. She’d hesitated to seek revenge, never wanting to cause him real harm, because deep down she wasn’t over him.

Armstrong: She loves her gift.

Of course she loved the shoes. But I’d thought…I’d hoped….

I didn’t expect her feelings to be as intense as mine, but I thought she had to know how special our connection was. It couldn’t be all one sided.

Armstrong: She’s always loved me, always will.

He was lying. There wasn’t enough air in the Bronco. I rolled down the window with the hope that the winter air would ease the tightness in my chest and the worries pinging through my brain.

I closed my eyes and filled my lungs with the crisp cold.

Armstrong: We’re getting married.

Married?

The intensity of the word knocked the breath from my chest.

He’d told me he might propose. But there was no way she would have said yes.

What if she did?

Marriage was forever. It meant I’d lost my chance.

A knot twisted painfully in my gut.

I silenced my phone, and dry heaved.

Somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with Maeve.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it. I was stupid. This pain was the price.

I don’t know how long I sat there, sick and paralyzed. Eventually, I forced myself to drive home, where I curled up on the couch and stared at the photo.

I searched the photo for clues, some sort of timestamp that could prove that Armstrong was lying and that the picture was from before I’d met Maeve.

Then I spotted the pufferfish keychain hanging out of her pocket. The keychain I’d given her.

The world collapsed around me, its pieces crushing down until I was completely flattened.

I should have known better. I’d told myself not to get involved, not to put my heart on the line, and then I’d done it anyway, knowing full well that this could happen.

I waited for Maeve to text after her shift ended. I waited for her to show up at my door with an adorable wrinkle of her nose and an explanation that could wash this all away.

Photoshop?

AI?

Magical evil Christmas elves?

But Maeve never showed. She never texted.

Our planned time to meet came and went without a word.

Maeve chose Armstrong. Not me.

It was over. We were over.

I couldn’t regret the time we’d shared together, even if losing that hurt me now. It was too good of a thing to wish never happened.

But I also wouldn’t call her.

I needed a distraction. I opened the college friend group chat.

Me: I need an excuse to get smashed. Anyone want to make it less pathetic by joining?

Tatianna: YES

Rachel: We’re in too

Tatianna: You okay, E?

Me: No. But after a few rounds, I will be

It was a lie. But it was a lie of hope. Something had to help me numb the pain.

On the way out, I crossed paths with Ruby by the mailboxes. I hadn’t seen her since the Revenge Club Meeting.

She nodded in my direction. “Hey.”

“Hey. Crush your work rival yet?”

“Don’t ask.” She slammed her box shut.

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. It’s…fine. It’s complicated. How’s your revenge going? You have the best chance out of all of us since you have a partner in crime.”

I didn’t have a partner anymore. The scheming was fun while it lasted. Everything had worked out with Pinecone Heights. But it was hard to feel positive now that I’d lost Maeve. “Complicated.”

Ruby offered a solemn nod in response. “I hope it works out for you in the end.”

“I hope the same for you.”

After I left, I met T and Rachel at the same bar we used to go to regularly. Amir brought along a friend, Todd. I hadn’t met Todd before, but he was clearly here as a set up for T. That left me as the fifth wheel for the hang out I’d suggested.

I drank. They drank. Rachel and T snapped pictures.

Todd and T flirted hard. The newlyweds regaled us in the joys of being freshly married, and honestly, all the lovey positivity was really clashing with my doom mood.

I told myself I needed to down another beer before calling it a failed night and bailing. I wished I was home right now, curled up in bed with Maeve.

“Want to share why you’re sulking?” T asked.

“Where’s Todd?”

“Bathroom.”

“You like him?”

“Yeah. But let me be your friend for a minute and focus on why you want to get smashed after not wanting to do anything like this in forever. What’s wrong?”

“You like jewelry.”

She frowned. “Yeah….”

“Imagine the shiniest, prettiest gemstone ever.”

“I’m partial to pearls.”

“Okay so you’re going about your dull and boring life.”

She raised a brow. “No offense intended?”

“Bear with me. This isn’t really about you.”

“Obviously.”

“When out of blue, you stumble upon the most stunning pearl.”

“Golden South Sea Pearl earrings.”

“Sure. You want to resist reaching for it, because it’s too good to be true.”

“Uh, no. I’d snatch it up immediately, hide it in my pocket, and clutch it tight as I ran away. Finders keepers, chumps.”

I smiled, because of course she would.

Rachel snapped another picture.

“Okay, pretend you have more self-control.”

T zipped her lips.

“And once you do inevitably try holding the pearl earrings, they’re even more spectacular than you thought. It’s the inner qualities—luster or whatever?—”

She cringed but didn’t correct me.

“—that make you believe that they were so perfect that they were always intended to be with you. But you live in fear that it’s only a matter of time until the person who lost them will catch up with you.”

“All right, that’s enough. This is clearly about a woman, and I don’t like the whole ownership metaphor to describe a woman.”

I didn’t like it, either. Maeve wasn’t a pearl. No one owned her.

There was no metaphor that fit. She wasn’t bottled sunshine or the human equivalent of rainbows. She was fun and filled with spite. She was passionate and she was perfect and she was gone.

I let out a long breath and deflated in my seat.

“Who is she?” T asked.

“Maeve Katz.”

“Oh.” Her brows shot up.

“Yeah.”

“And you think…wait. You don’t believe she’s gone back to Bradford Armstrong, do you?”

“I…yeah.” That’s exactly what I thought, and it was devastating.

T flicked me in the center of my forehead. “Then you’re an idiot.”

“Ow.”

“That didn’t hurt. And you needed it. Maeve loathes Bradford.”

Loathes was the wrong L word. “You’re mistaken.”

“You’re mistaken.”

I wish I was. “She kissed him.”

“I don’t believe it.”

I showed her the picture.

She snatched my phone and narrowed her eyes at it.

“Did I hear someone mention Maeve?” Amir stepped between us and put his hand on each of our chairs. “Like my sister Maeve?”

How much of our conversation had he heard?

“Elliot’s in love with her,” T said.

“I—” I wanted to say she was wrong. But she wasn’t.

“Aww,” Amir said. “How long have you known her?”

“Since your wedding.”

His brows shot up.

“I know. It’s not long enough.” I took a long swig of my beer.

Rachel stepped up next to Amir and leaned her head on his shoulder. “It’s longer than we knew each other before we said our I-love-yous,” Rachel said.

“I didn’t know that.” It wasn’t relevant, either.

“Maeve’s had a tough time of it lately,” Amir said. “First, she ages out of her favorite game tournament. Then T shows up with Maeve’s boyfriend at the wedding.”

T covered her face. “I never would have dated him if I’d known about her.”

“Of course not,” Rachel said.

“Then Maeve finds out that the arcade she loves is going under,” Amir said. “She told Cara all about it. No one should tell Cara anything unless they want the entire family to know.”

Maeve’s arcade was struggling? I had no idea.

“Glitch Arcade is her second home,” Amir said.

I had no idea that Maeve worked at Glitch Arcade. It was one of the businesses in Oldbridge District who’d passed on working with me or with Armstrong.

The owner, Otto, was set on retiring, if I remembered correctly. I still had his contact info. I could reach out.

Maeve might not want to be with me, but I could still help her.

I stopped drinking and started scheming.